Finders Keepers Edie Baylis (phonics readers .TXT) 📖

It was another box...

Reaching in, Robert pulled out the box. Whatever was in it was fairly heavy.

Gingerly opening the box, he frowned at the contents wrapped in a towel. Lying the towel on the floor, he unwrapped it, blinking several times before hesitatingly picking up the gun. By the looks of it, it was old. Not that he was by any means an expert.

Checking the safety catch, he flipped open the barrel and checked the chamber. Shit. It was loaded. But there was one bullet missing.

Feeling fear ripple, Robert stared at the gun more closely. As said, he was no expert, but by the traces of residue on the barrel, he’d warrant this gun had been fired. And recently.

Gingerly, he lifted the gun to his nose and smelt the very faint scent of sulphur and oil. Yes, the gun had been fired relatively recently.

Carefully putting it back on the towel, he leant back against the side of the bed and closed his eyes, his breath ragged. He didn’t have a clue who the man present that night Helen died was, but he was fairly certain it wasn’t the person who had fired the gun.

Sweat poured off Robert’s brow. That man hadn’t killed Helen, his mother had.

Thirty

KEITH LET HIMSELF INTO THE FLAT with the key Saul had given him. He wandered into the kitchen and plonked himself down at the small table, eagerly pulling the packet of sandwiches from his pocket.

It was almost 3pm and he hadn’t even had any lunch. No wonder he was fucking starving.

He picked at the heat-sealed cellophane, the fact that sandwich packets always required a degree to get inside them never failing to irritate him. Why did they feel the need to seal them so a blow torch was required to get in the bloody things?

Scowling, he slammed the packet down and stretched his bulky frame over to the tiny work surface, just able to reach one of the knives from the small knife block. Impatiently puncturing the cellophane with a satisfying ‘pop’, Keith dug his finger into the newly made slit and ripped the top off the packet, gratefully pulling out one of the sandwiches.

Taking a large bite, his face screwed up at the half-stale bread, wondering how something more preserved than Michael Jackson could possibly be so rank.

His mouth worked at the chewy bread and whatever it was allegedly supposed to contain, coming to the conclusion that seed bread with its revolting doughy consistency, along with bits of gravel should be banned. Couldn’t places use normal fucking bread, rather than weird shit?

What was it even supposed to be? He glanced at the packet. Turkey salad? Yeah, right.

Pulling apart the sandwich in his large hand, he scowled at the single anorexic strip of turkey, three limp shreds of lettuce and a slice of tomato that not only looked like it had been cut by one of those machines used for making wafer-thin cross-sections for microscope slides, it also had a distinctly green tinge to it. Or was it cucumber?

Shrugging, Keith shoved the remains into his mouth. However pointless and revolting it was, he was so famished, his stomach was convinced his throat had been cut so he had no choice but to eat it.

He looked at the clock on the wall. Still another half an hour before Saul was due. He could have waited in the car, but what was the point of that when there was a perfectly good flat to sit in? Well, it would be perfectly good if it wasn’t for the chick locked in the bedroom.

Personally, he couldn’t see the point of hanging on to her. If she hadn’t got the gear, then at least put her to good use by taking her back to that Footlights place. The haul must still be within those four walls and being as she’d lived there, she more than anyone should have a good idea of where to look.

Jonah would be the first to admit he’d barely had chance to look anywhere before having to scarper. The police were no longer digging around and the old bag wasn’t there, so it was the perfect opportunity, but Saul was adamant that wasn’t happening.

Keith’s forehead furrowed. Doubts as to the validity of Saul’s handling of this crept up on him and he couldn’t say he liked himself very much for that. Above all others, he was loyal to Saul, but to question why the man was doing the things he was doing didn’t make him feel loyal.

He also felt bad for not including Jonah. After Saul had got banged up Jonah had taken him on, no questions asked. He could have easily been passed over, but that hadn’t happened. He’d even been given a shed load more responsibility, but now Saul was back on the scene, he’d all but jumped ship. And in all fairness, that wasn’t making him feel great, especially since Saul had now gone down this road.

Finishing the second sandwich, Keith wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and stood up. He’d just have a quick piss and check on the girl before Saul arrived.

That was another thing. Saul expected him to do all the shit like emptying slop buckets and that didn’t make him happy. He was an enforcer not a carer in some old folks’ place. He didn’t agree with the girl being held anyway, but maybe that was why Saul had asked him here? Perhaps he’d taken what had been said on board and was letting the girl go?

Hearing noise within the locked bedroom, Keith paused. What was the stupid woman up to? She had no chance of escaping. Even Houdini would struggle to get out of those manacles. Besides, the way Saul had been lacing her up with the brown, he was amazed the poor girl hadn’t OD’d, let alone had the energy to move.

He didn’t agree with that either, but who