A Home Like Ours by Fiona Lowe (inspirational books for students .txt) 📗
- Author: Fiona Lowe
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‘And what happened?’ Jon said.
‘I threw up.’
‘And?’
‘And …’ The rattan was now wound tightly around his finger. ‘They went to the silos. I watched them spray their tags over the Aussies’ tags, but the whole time I was scared. I kept thinking, Om will kill me. She will cry and I hate it when she cries. So I left and ran home. But the policeman with all the stripes on his shirt stopped me on Serenity Street.’
‘Sergeant North?’ Tara asked.
‘Maybe. He wanted to know where I’d been. I couldn’t tell him or he’d find the boys. If I lied and said I was somewhere, he’d go there and ask. I said I had the right to remain silent.’ Amal shuddered. ‘He didn’t like that. He made me empty my pockets and my backpack. He used his torch to look for paint on my hands. When he only found my school stuff, he ripped my chemistry homework and sprinkled it over my head. He said, “Being smart won’t save you. One day I’ll get you.”’
Fiza said something in rapid Arabic and Amal hung his head.
‘He should not have been drinking, but it is not a crime to walk at night,’ she said to Jon and Tara. Her face twisted. ‘When we arrived in Australia they told us we can trust the police. Hah!’
‘Amal, do you know if this gang’s responsible for breaking into our store?’ Jon asked.
‘It’s not what you think.’
‘Then tell us.’
Agony creased his face. ‘I can’t.’
‘Because the black gang’s threatened you?’
He shook his head. ‘No. I don’t spend time with them any more.’
‘If someone’s asking you to keep their crime a secret, they’re not a friend.’
‘You don’t understand. They’re not my friends.’ Amal’s shoulders drooped and he blew out a long breath imbued with resignation. ‘There are three boys. White boys. They sell stuff at school and in the park.’
‘Stuff they’ve stolen?’
‘Sometimes. Mostly they ask the black kids to steal it for them.’
‘Those boys should say no,’ Fiza said hotly. ‘Why don’t they say no?’
Amal’s expression was pure teenager—long-suffering forbearance. ‘Because they get the spray cans for free, Om. They hate the way the Aussie boys make their graffiti look like they did it. It’s why they paint over it.’
Jon rubbed his temples. ‘Let me get this straight. There are three teenagers masterminding a stolen goods racket in town and making it look like the Af—black kids did it all?’
‘Not sports equipment,’ Amal said. ‘Things like alcohol and spray paint. Knives. Anything they can sell. Drugs too.’
‘I need you to tell the police who these boys are.’
Amal stiffened. ‘No. They won’t believe me. They will say I’m making it all up because these boys are well respected.’
‘Jon, he might have a point,’ Tara said. ‘You know what Denny North said to us about smart boys. It matches what Amal just told us.’
He ignored her and kept his gaze on Amal. ‘If you don’t tell the police about these boys then you’re still a sus—’
‘Oh my God!’ Tara grabbed Jon’s arm and stood up. ‘Please excuse us for a few minutes.’
‘Tell me if you are calling the police,’ Fiza said.
‘I’m not. I just need to talk to Jon privately.’
Jon followed her into the study and closed the door. ‘The first break-in was April, right?’
He nodded. ‘During the big DIY push before Easter.’
‘When did Morgan Llewelyn ask Ian about a job for Darcy?’
‘Hang on, Tara. That’s a leap.’
‘It’s as much a leap as us thinking it’s black teenagers. Was there a break-in before Darcy started?’
‘I’d have to check the date on his employment form.’
‘Was he working when we didn’t have any break-ins?’
‘He had footy finals and a holiday with his family and then I said we didn’t need him until last week—shit!’ He ran his hand through his hair. ‘You realise you’re accusing the magistrate’s grandson of breaking and entering?’
‘Morgan’s job is nothing to do with whether or not Darcy’s stealing from us.’
‘Yeah, but what’s his motive?’
‘People steal for a hundred reasons, but think about it. He’s our worst casual. He’s lazy, entitled and self-serving. The only reason we haven’t sacked him is because Morgan’s a mate of Ian’s.’
Jon paced in the small room. ‘It still doesn’t absolve Amal. He asked to work in the garden section.’
‘I know it doesn’t look good, but it’s only bad in retrospect. It made sense at the time, because I’d rostered Darcy to plants but he’s useless. What if it was Darcy’s idea to swap?’
‘It would put him inside the store and give him access to what he wanted to stash ready to steal,’ Jon said.
‘And we were frantic on Saturday. No one would have noticed him moving between the sections, hiding things.’
‘But if Amal knew that was Darcy’s intention, it still makes him an accessory to the crime. North will be all over him.’
Tara’s head pounded. She desperately wanted to believe Amal, but he’d confessed to trying to please two groups to fit in. If Darcy had set up the theft, not only did it take down Amal, but also the black teenagers who’d risked being caught breaking and entering. It played right into Denny North’s and the town’s prejudices. She readjusted her opinion of Darcy Llewelyn. He wasn’t lazy—he was conniving and evil.
She gasped, struck by a thought. ‘You know when you installed the CCTV, a lot of the loyal customers got stroppy?’
‘Yeah. And I told them we were only using it at night to catch the thieves.’
‘Exactly. Except when I arrived on Saturday, my head was so full of balloons and displays, I forgot to turn it off. It ran until Monday morning.’
Jon frowned. ‘It will show us if Darcy was lifting stuff, but it won’t show him stashing it in the garden section. It’s not enough to clear Amal.’
‘It will be if it shows Darcy carrying the stuff into the garden section after three o’clock.’
‘Why three?’
‘Because Fiza worked an afternoon shift and Amal finished early to mind the twins.’
CHAPTER
40
Milo had woken up early and as Helen was
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