The Billy Can Bomb

Chapter Four


My Dad tapped gently, but rapidly, on my bedroom door. Dad always made it a point never to burst in on anybody unannounced, and I would have felt hurt and undermined if he didn’t respect my privacy.

“Yes dad?”, I answered, detecting a sense of urgency in his normally calm voice.
“Billy, Mr. Knight’s on the phone, sounds as if Kev, after he left, got involved in some trouble and now the police are questioning him in Lower Breck Road station”.
“OK Dad”, I replied, “I'll chat to him”.

Mr. Knight explained he was going immediately to the station, asking if I would join him, “you might be able to explain to them what you and Kevin were doing before this alleged trouble”.
“Yeah, that’s OK Mr. Knight, I’ll do that”.
“I’ll pop over to your place and pick you up”.

“Dad”, I said, “Mr. Knight wants me to go with him to find out what’s happened to Kev. Is that OK with you?”

“No problem. You know me and the police, best to keep a clear distance from them, but if you’ve got to talk to them there’s no choice is there? But look after yourself and don’t say anything you’ll regret."
“Should I?”, I asked quizzically.
“That’s for you to decide Billy”.

Within twenty minutes I was sitting in a back room of the station, Kev opposite a CID Inspector and me next to Mr. Knight.

The Inspector explained what had happened and how he realised Kevin wasn’t involved in wrongdoing.
“Well, that’s what I expect of my son, officer”, said Mr. Knight, “he’s been brought up correctly”.
“But we need to ask why he was there. Where he was before and what he hoped to gain from his own, how shall I put it, private investigations”.

I explained Kev had helped me with my maths and why he’d taken a short cut.
“Yes, yes, we believe you son”, the Inspector said to me, and then continued, “but why did you stop Kevin?”

Before Kevin could reply his Dad said, “Inspector, I’ve always taught my son, all my children, to help others. I was raised that way myself and see no harm in it”.

“No neither do I Mr. Knight”, replied the Inspector, “but we need to know more clearly what was going on”.

“I’ve told you sir”, said Kev, looking at Inspector Rollins, “you’ve got my statement. Dad, I can’t answer any more. I can’t tell him any more than I know”.
“OK Kevin”, the Inspector said softly, “our problem is that we received a phone call some ten minutes before we arrived. An anonymous tip off that some men were attempting to sell drugs in the underground car park, so we need to know if it was you, or even Billy, and if it was, how did you know what was going on”.
“Looks like to me”, butted in Mr Knight, “that my son, just by chance, happened to get involved like the Good Samaritan, and now finds himself in deeper that he expected”.

“That’s right Dad”, Kev exclaimed, “the man who grabbed me knows my face now. What’ll he do to me?”
“He doesn’t know where you live, does he?”
“But Dave Williams’, the boy I saw, who used to go to my school, does!”
“Yes son”, the Inspector replied, “we’re tracing that up. We didn’t get a clear description of him nor of his companion. Did you recognise his friend Kevin?”, asked the Inspector.
“No. Never seen him before”.
“Would you recognise him again if you saw him?”
“No, I don’t think so. Well, not to be 100% sure I couldn’t. I only recognised Dave in the dark because of his strange hunched shoulders and lanky walk”.

“Is there anything else you want to know Inspector?”, asked Mr. Knight.
“No, not at the moment. If you do see this Dave Williams’ character with anybody else you might recognise, tell us immediately. Don’t go getting yourself involved again”.
“No sir”.
“Oh yes, your bike. It’s in the station yard”.
“C’mon young people”, said Mr. Knight, let’s be taking you back. Thank you Inspector”.
“Good night sir. Goodnight boys”.

I couldn’t sleep that night. My mind was a whirligig of thoughts and emotions. What had Kev stumbled upon? What’ll happen if he’s recognised? Will Kev’s life be in danger? Will the men in the car park keep trying to push drugs? Was this just a small part of a bigger operation or a one off? And, more importantly to me, what was Kev feeling?

Kev didn’t tell everything to the police. Though not accused of any wrong doing he felt he had, especially when the police told him he’d been nicked without any proof and was manhandled into the car. He didn’t tell his father that, though he was ready to tell me. His temper, his anger, had been fired and he knew he wouldn’t take police advice nor keep clear: he would ask questions. There was also one other thing that began to nag him. One of the men in the car seemed vaguely, strangely familiar, something that gnawed at the back of Kevin’s mind. Something most definitely for my ears only. It wasn’t until the early hours, as the birds began to sing and warble into life did he find sleep. “Good job”, he finally said to himself, “it’s Saturday tomorrow”.