Heatwave by Oliver Davies (the red fox clan txt) 📗
- Author: Oliver Davies
Book online «Heatwave by Oliver Davies (the red fox clan txt) 📗». Author Oliver Davies
“Heads up, we’ve got another one,” Stephen said. While I’d been thinking, the radios on our belts had chirped, and he’d picked it up.
“Another what?”
“Another group of teenagers causing mayhem.” Stephen got up to his feet, and I followed him. “Didn’t you hear the radio?”
“Sorry, I was away with the fairies. What did they say?”
“There’s a whole gang of teens hounding some homeless folks near the city centre. They’re calling for at least a couple of units to help deal with it.”
“Got it.”
We jogged down the stairs and headed out to the car, climbing inside even though it was hot enough to make me start sweating within seconds. Stephen took the wheel, flicking on the sirens and getting us over to where we were needed in record time. The volume of traffic was high this time of year, with both locals moving around and the tourists coming into the city to see the sights. But Stephen expertly weaved around the cars when they didn’t move out of the way quick enough, and we rolled up no more than ten minutes later, Stephen having turned off the sirens once we got close.
Still, it seemed like we’d been too late to catch the majority of the action, as the police officers already there were standing around, talking to each other or the homeless people, and there weren’t any teenagers in sight.
“What happened?” I asked the first officer we came across. He gave Stephen and me a quick look up and down before he replied.
“There were ten of them, I’d say. They all bolted before we could get out of the cars.”
“Dammit,” I muttered. “Was anyone hurt?”
“Scrapes and bruises,” he said, nodding over to the group of homeless, who looked distinctly unhappy to have the police hanging around. “We’ll head off in a minute. Not much else we can do, is there?”
“Alright, mate, thanks for the update.” I gave him a nod, and he walked away.
“You want to go and have a chat with them?” Stephen guessed.
“Aye, it won’t hurt. They were the only ones who actually saw the troublemakers, weren’t they?”
“Do you think it’s the same who got up in your face yesterday?”
I hesitated. “Could be, but I have no particular reason to think so. The group that bothered me weren’t as many as ten.”
The police officers were beginning to get back in their cars and move away, and the homeless looked keen to move location, too. And no wonder, since our lot and theirs didn’t have the best track record. But I only wanted to help, and Stephen and I stepped over to a petite woman who looked about middle-aged and had a careworn face.
“Hi, I’m Darren, this is Stephen. Could we ask you about the teenagers that were bothering you?”
She gave me a long look as if trying to figure out whether I had some underlying motive.
“You can ask,” she said after a moment, her hands busy as she wrapped up her sleeping bag.
“Thanks. Did you notice which one seemed to be the ringleader? And what they looked like?”
“The leader?” she repeated. “I dunno really, didn’t seem to be one.”
“What sort of ages would you say they were?”
She’d finished up packing her sleeping bag into her rucksack and was looking side to side, clearly wanting to be off.
“I dunno. Fifteen? Sixteen, I guess?”
“Was there a tall, very blonde boy? With a lip ring?” I asked, speaking faster as she hefted her rucksack on.
“Nah.”
“A short boy, dark-haired, about fourteen?”
“I dunno.”
“Were any of them wearing patches or badges,” I tried, knowing that it was a long shot, “with the symbol of a flame on? In bright red?”
“I dunno.”
“Did any of them say their names?”
“Look, mister, I’ve gotta go.”
“Alright,” I sighed, stepping back out of her way. “Thanks.”
She jerked a sharp nod and walked quickly away, glancing back over her shoulder once before she disappeared around the corner. The rest of the homeless had all headed off while we were speaking to her, taking advantage of our distraction, no doubt, except for one bloke who was passed out on the floor and hadn’t moved at all. Concerned for him, I went over to see if he was alright, but he was breathing fine and smelled strongly of alcohol, so I left him alone.
“What now, boss?”
I glanced around the area, which, only a couple of minutes ago, had been bustling with people but was now all but deserted. Looking up at the walls of the buildings nearby, I walked backwards, searching.
“There.” I pointed up to a CCTV camera on the side of a nearby wall. It looked to be a public one, and I was optimistic that there’d be something on there we could use. “Now we go and watch more footage and hope we strike lucky.”
Eight
“Bingo.”
“You’ve found them?” Stephen asked as he came over with fresh drinks for us and sat down.
“I sure have.”
He and I watched the footage play out as the teenagers walked by the camera, passing almost directly underneath it on their way to torment the homeless folks up out of the camera’s view. It was frustrating that we couldn’t get the teens’ harassment on video, but pictures of their faces would be a big help.
I manipulated the pictures to the best of my limited abilities and sent various close-ups to the printer, hoping that they’d be easier to look at on paper. Staring at the computer screen had been beginning to make my eyes cross, and I rubbed them tiredly as I stood by the printer and waited for the machine to spit the images out.
As kept happening whenever I had a moment of downtime, my mind went back to Sam. I turned over questions in my head about the future,
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