Joe Craig - Jimmy Coates - Killer

He couldn’t stop it, though. Now that he knew he hadn’t been hurt by the fall, Jimmy wanted to spring up and run as fast as he could. But he didn’t move. His body stayed exactly where it was until the two heads moved from the window. They were coming down for him. Run now, please, he thought, but still he didn’t get up from the drive. Instead, he tucked his elbows into his chest and rolled over twice until he was under the car. The ground was cold, and bits of glass stuck into him as he spun over them. He felt around the undercarriage of the car and found a place for his fingers to grip. Then, with just the strength of his forearms, he pulled his whole body off the concrete. He hooked his toes under a fold of metal and waited.

There was dust and grime all over him. He could feel grease crawling down his arms and dripping on to his face. Slowly, he paid attention to his thoughts again: if he had run, the men would have jumped into a car and chased him down. But what instinct had told him to stay put and to roll under the car when the men weren’t looking? Then he noticed the ridiculous position he was in, clutching the underside of the car. Where had this strength come from?

Now the two men came running out of the open front door. Again, Jimmy could only see their shoes.

“No visual,” shouted the shorter man, looking up and down the road.

“You were meant to stop him getting out of the living room.”

“He used his strength against me.”

“That’s rubbish. He doesn’t know yet.”

“Then how did he break your finger and jump out of the window?”

“Put it in the report.”

Jimmy was getting more confused by the second. What didn’t he know yet? Then he heard the crackle of a walkie-talkie.

“The boy’s out. Establish a perimeter. We have no visual,” one of the men said. Jimmy saw one pair of feet run over to the back of a van that was parked in the street outside the house.

“What are you doing?”

“You don’t expect me to sniff him out do you?”

“The dogs won’t do any good, you fool,” was the response, but the van was already open. Jimmy heard barking and saw two sets of paws padding around the driveway. Then the dogs dipped their noses to the ground and Jimmy saw their faces, their mouths drooling in the lamplight.

“I brought down a sock,” said one of the men. Then he pulled both the dogs towards him on the long leashes. “There you go, boy. Good boy. Go fetch.”

The animals circled the car, creeping like thieves, every now and again lifting their faces for a second, then snorting back to the ground. Jimmy watched one of them getting closer, walking right along the side of the car. It stopped at the level of Jimmy’s face and sniffed around. He had read that dogs could pick up a scent better when it was wet, and the ground was definitely damp. Jimmy held his breath.

“Get those dogs back in the van. They’ll only cut their paws on the glass.”

Both dogs were pulled quickly away. Jimmy was relieved for the moment, but even more confused. Why hadn’t they picked up his scent? Jimmy sniffed, trying to recognise his own smell, then realised that was silly.

Then came more footsteps and a voice Jimmy knew. “Are the handcuffs really necessary?” It was Jimmy’s father coming out of the house.

“I’m afraid they are, Ian,” said one of the men. Jimmy held on tight to the car, his knuckles going white. He watched the feet of his family marching out to the street. First he watched his father’s, then saw that his mother had been allowed to put on some shoes instead of the slippers she had been wearing. Then came Georgie. She had also changed out of slippers and into trainers. But then there was one more pair of shoes. There must have been another suit that he hadn’t seen, who came in after Jimmy ran upstairs.

These shoes were an anonymous black, and shiny just like the shoes of the other two men, but something about them made Jimmy look twice. There was a pattern on the toe that he recognised from somewhere; he just couldn’t work out where. He watched them walk slowly away from the house. He was sure he had seen those shoes before. Then again, maybe the fall had given him strange ideas instead of bruises and broken bones.

Jimmy watched everyone stepping through the puddles. One of the pieces of glass on the ground offered him a strange, distorted reflection of the people walking about. Everything was upside down and he couldn’t make out their faces, but he could see their outlines. He wondered if any minute somebody could catch a glimpse of him reflected in the same glass, or even see his whole face if there was a puddle that caught the light.

Then Georgie unknowingly provided the perfect distraction. She picked up her foot and kicked out at one of the men, nearly hitting him. “You’re not taking me,” she shouted. Jimmy felt a jolt of excitement. “Help! Police!”

If anybody can fight, Georgie can, he thought, remembering all the times he’d been pinned on the bed with his head under her arm. He willed her to keep screaming; surely someone would hear and get help.

But then his father’s voice cut in. “It’s OK Georgie, we don’t want to cause trouble. Quiet now.”

“No, I’m not letting them take me!” She was shouting louder, and then she kicked out again, this time landing a sharp blow in the middle of the man’s shin.

“Hey,” said the man, grabbing his leg and rubbing.

“I’m not going with you!” And she ran. Jimmy watched her feet disappear from view and thought he could hear her shouting something. It sounded like, “I’m going to help Jimmy”.

They had a chance now. Maybe someone had heard Georgie shouting and would call the police. Maybe even Mr Higgins would decide not to be so deaf just when it was important, and get them some help.

“Let her go. We don’t need her,” said the man who had been kicked.

“Your leg OK?”

“Stupid kid. You take these two in the van, I’ll follow in the car.”

“And how’s your finger?”

“Shut up and put them in the van. The boy won’t get far.”

Jimmy wondered why the men didn’t seem to want Georgie. And why were they taking his parents? This was clearly no ordinary kidnapping. One suspicion had taken hold and wouldn’t let go: that something about Jimmy made him the target of men in suits with guns, and that this something was connected to his sudden ability to jump out of windows without getting hurt.

Two engines started up. He had to get a look at the van. It was his only way of finding out who was taking his parents away.

He eased himself on to the ground and rolled out, just in time to see the back of a car pulling away. There was no number plate. It was a long black car with blacked out windows. A large black van was in front of it. They prowled like cats, agonisingly slow.

As they turned at the bottom of the street, he saw the driver of the van in silhouette, with one front-seat passenger. That must be the third man, he thought. The one I didn’t meet.

The light of the street lamps glinted off the windows and something caught Jimmy’s eye. It was the only thing about the vehicles that wasn’t completely black. On the side of the van, towards the back, was a fine, vertical, green stripe. It was just thick enough for Jimmy to make out and no more than ten centimetres long. In the same place on the car was an identical green stripe. He saw it for just a snatch of time, so short that as soon as he had seen it he doubted himself. The van and the car turned the corner, disappearing as if they had never been there.

Jimmy walked back to his house and for the first time noticed that he wasn’t wearing any shoes. He picked his way through the broken glass, which wasn’t easy in the dark. The front door was locked. Of course it was. They all thought Jimmy was on the run somewhere, loose in the suburbs of London.