بخش 02 - فصل 15

15

He has no intention of taking the bus. The next one won’t be along for half an hour, and he can be on Sycamore Street in fifteen minutes if he runs, and he will, because this Thursday afternoon is all he has. His mother and father are at work and won’t be home until at least four. Tina won’t be home at all. She says she has been invited to spend a couple of nights with her old friend Barbara Robinson on Teaberry Lane, but Pete thinks she might actually have invited herself. If so, it probably means his sister hasn’t given up her hopes of attending Chapel Ridge. Pete thinks he might still be able to help her with that, but only if this afternoon goes perfectly. That’s a very big if, but he has to do something. If he doesn’t, he’ll go crazy.

He’s lost weight since foolishly making the acquaintance of Andrew Halliday, the acne of his early teens is enjoying a return engagement, and of course there are those dark circles under his eyes. He’s been sleeping badly, and what sleep he’s managed has been haunted by bad dreams. After awakening from these – often curled in a fetal position, pajamas damp with sweat – Pete has lain awake, trying to think his way out of the trap he’s in.

He genuinely forgot the class officers’ retreat, and when Mrs Gibson, the chaperone, reminded him of it yesterday, it shocked his brain into a higher gear. That was after period five French, and before he got to his calculus class, only two doors down, he had the rough outline of a plan in his head. It partly depends on an old red wagon, and even more on a certain set of keys.

Once out of sight of the school, Pete calls Andrew Halliday Rare Editions, a number he wishes he did not have on speed dial. He gets the answering machine, which at least saves him another arkie-barkie. The message he leaves is a long one, and the machine cuts him off as he’s finishing, but that’s okay.

If he can get those notebooks out of the house, the police will find nothing, search warrant or no search warrant. He’s confident his parents will keep quiet about the mystery money, as they have all along. As Pete slips his cell back into the pocket of his chinos, a phrase from freshman Latin pops into his head. It’s a scary one in any language, but it fits this situation perfectly.

Alea iacta est.

The die is cast.