DAY 21: Friday
My skims: 25
Wriggler’s skims: 0
Tearley’s skims: 9
25 skims! Bring on the record.
Money made for tinnie or Tearley: $0 ($825 to go. As if.)
Tearley and Wrigs came over to my place really early.
I was still angry with Wrigs.
‘Why didn’t you warn us Mr Black was coming down to the house?’ I asked him.
‘I didn’t see him,’ said Wrigs.
‘You have one simple job and you stuff it up,’ Tearley said.
‘I was, kind of, indiposted.’
‘Indiposted?’ said Tearley. ‘Do you mean “indisposed”, idiot?’
‘Don’t call me an idiot,’ said Wrigs. ‘I wasn’t there. Well I was there … but I wasn’t looking.’
‘What were you doing then?’ I said.
Wrigs’ face went bright red. ‘It’s just that I was busting, so I went into the bushes. He must have walked past me then.’
‘Wrigs, you’re an idiot,’ said Tearley. ‘Lookouts can’t leave their posts because they want to pee.’
‘I’m not an idiot,’ said Wrigs. He was glaring at Tearley. He looked like he was heading for a Wrig-out. If there is one thing Wrigs hates, it’s being called an idiot.
I changed the subject. ‘We’ve got to show the photos of Mr Black to the police.’
‘But they don’t prove anything,’ said Tearley. ‘What do we say to the police? “Officer, we don’t know who this man is but we think he is up to something bad. And he’s got a hessian sack.”’
‘I’ll go to the police on my own then,’ I said.
‘I’ll come, too,’ said Wrigs. He was trying to make up for being such a bad lookout.
‘Well, okay then. So will I,’ said Tearley. ‘But I bet they don’t believe anything we say.’
As we walked through town to the police station Tearley said, ‘Why do you reckon Mr Black came and talked to us yesterday? That was freaky.’
Wrigs said, ‘I thought you said he seemed all right.’
‘Well, he did when he spoke to us,’ said Tearley. ‘But now I reckon he was trying to find something out from us.’
‘Maybe he wanted to know why we’re always hanging around down by the river,’ I said.
‘Or maybe he wanted to find out if we were suspicious of him,’ said Tearley.
‘Do you still think he’s a ghost?’ I asked Wrigs.
‘Well, I don’t know how he got past me.’
‘’Cause you’re an idiot,’ said Tearley.
We arrived at the police station just before 9.00 am. We had to wait for an hour before a cop even turned up.
Then he made us sit on a bench near the counter for another twenty minutes while he made himself coffee, checked his emails and had a long conversation on the phone with someone about how much it had cost to get his car serviced.
Finally the policeman called us into his office. He said his name was Sergeant Tranh. He looked like the kind of policeman that they put on TV ads. He was tall and looked like he could run a hundred metres in under twelve seconds. You could imagine him jumping fences and chasing down bad guys. His uniform was perfect. When he sat down he pulled the bottom of his jacket down so that it wouldn’t crumple up.
We showed Sergeant Tranh the photos of Mr Black in the deserted house.
‘Whose camera is it?’ he asked.
‘Ours,’ I said.
‘What were you doing putting a camera in someone’s house? That’s an invasion of privacy.’
‘Nobody owns that house. It’s the deserted one down by the river,’ Tearley said.
We could hear the front door of the police station swinging open.
‘Stevens?’ Tranh yelled out.
A female constable came in looking out of breath and carrying an enormous handbag.
‘Sorry I’m late, sir,’ she said and gave Tranh a crooked smile.
Stevens was short and freckly and a bit nervy. She looked like she was just out of police school.
Tranh whispered something to her and she disappeared into the back of the station.
‘So what were you doing at this house in the first place?’ Tranh asked us.
‘We skim,’ I said.
‘What, credit cards?’
‘No, rocks,’ I said.
‘And why did you set up a camera?’
‘Because this guy was hanging around that house and acting all weird,’ I said. ‘We thought he was up to something, so we set up the camera.’
‘And do you always set up cameras to watch people?’
Stevens walked back in and gave Tranh a piece of paper.
‘Told you,’ Tearley whispered to me. ‘They don’t believe us.’
‘Constable Stevens just looked up the Land Titles Office records for the derelict house in question,’ said Tranh. ‘It says the land is owned by a Mr Bayoumi.’
‘Then why is the house falling down?’ asked Wrigs.
‘I don’t know. You’ll have to ask Mr Bayoumi,’ said Sergeant Tranh, holding up the piece of paper. ‘Constable Stevens is an expert on the Google-web and she has found this proof of land ownership. So, kids, I’m afraid to say, it’s you who are trespassing.’
‘What about the guy in the photos?’ said Wrigs, pointing at Tearley’s laptop.
‘How do you know he’s not Mr Bayoumi?’ said Tranh.
‘Why would he slink around the place like a gangster if he owned it?’ I said.
‘People are complicated, kid,’ said Sergeant Tranh. ‘Maybe that man doesn’t want anyone to know he owns the house.’
Then he looked at Constable Stevens and said, ‘Or maybe he’s just getting away from his kids.’
Stevens laughed.
I looked at Tearley and she flicked her eyeballs towards me without turning her head, which was her way of saying she was very, very annoyed.
Tranh turned to us again. ‘Look, we’re busy. We have important stuff to do.’
‘Yeah, there’s a lot happening in Pensdale,’ said Tearley. ‘Like speeding tickets, lost cats. You must be run off your feet.’
Constable Stevens let out a sharp giggle. Tranh shot a glance at her and she blushed.
Tranh turned to Tearley. ‘Well, young lady,’ he said, ‘we’re not too busy to investigate reports of some minors trespassing near the river.’
He sat back in his chair and didn’t say anything more. The silence said, ‘This-conversation-is-over-now-it’s-time-to-go-away.’
So we did.
As we left, I took some more rocks from the garden at the front of the cop station.
When we were back on Queen Street I said, ‘Hey, Tearley, I thought you were about to have a Wrig-out in there.’
‘I hate it that they don’t take us seriously just’ cause we’re kids,’ she said.
‘Do you reckon we’ll really get in trouble for trespassing at the house?’ said Wrigs.
‘No, they just wanted us to stop hassling them,’ I said.
‘Or maybe they’re involved,’ said Wrigs. ‘Maybe Mr Black is paying them off so they don’t arrest him.’
‘Yeah, as if,’ said Tearley. ‘Maybe the cops are right and we should just forget about Mr Black.’
‘What, and waste a hundred bucks?’ I said. ‘No way. We have to go down to the house and put the memory card back in the camera.’
‘Why bother?’ said Tearley. ‘Even if we can prove something, it’s not like the cops will listen to us.’
‘But if we don’t do anything, there’s no way we’ll be able to get any reward money,’ I told her. ‘And then there’s no way we’ll be able to pay you back the seventy-five dollars we owe you.’
It was true. The only chance we had of getting our money back for the camera, or to buy the tinnie, was to find out what Mr Black was up to, and hope for a reward.
Tearley thought about it for a moment then said, ‘Okay, let’s go.’
We went back to the river and put the card back in the camera. Wrigs acted as lookout like usual. But now he was looking out for the police as well as for Mr Black. We made him swear not to go for a pee, even if he had to wet himself.
I thought we should at least try one of the rocks from the police station. I got the most skims ever … twenty-five. The first bounce wasn’t that big but then it bounced again, and again, and again—twenty-four more times to be exact. At least something good came out of the day.