Drug Smugglers

The room was quiet and warm, light streaming in through the windows, two cups of hot cocoa on the table – one for Robin and the other for his mother. He looked up from the book he was reading as he heard the key turning in the lock of the front door.

‘Hi mum.’

‘Hi Robin. Made my coffee?’

‘No, cocoa instead.’

‘Thanks son.’

She sat down at the table and lifted the mug to her lips. Robin noticed that she looked paler than usual and her hand shook as she rhythmically lifted and put down the mug.

‘You alright?’

‘Fine.’

Her voice grated against his ears mist unpleasantly. He opened his mouth to ask her if she really meant that, but something in her eyes warned him not to. So he went back to staring at his book.

The silence was unusually awkward, only broken by the occasional sipping of cocoa. Robin decided to change the topic.

‘D’you know that there’s a new policeman settled into the flat next door?’

‘Yes,’ said his mother curtly. Then after thinking for a split second she added, ‘I’ve just set up a shelf for him. He’s a chatty fellow. Posted ‘ere to check on some suspected drug smugglers.’

Robin’s eyes opened wide with innocent astonishment.

‘Maybe,’ he thought, ‘maybe Jack and I can help him find the drug smugglers! It might even be someone we know!’

He scrambled up from his chair, nearly knocking over his cup of coca, which by now was rather cold.

‘I’m going to tell Jack ‘bout the police…’

‘No,’ interrupted his mother. ‘You may not. Go do your homework instead.’

Robin almost wailed in despair but obeyed his mother. He shuffled slowly to his room, dragging in the carpet as much as he possibly could.

‘Robin,’ snapped his mother, sounding as if she would like to bite his head off.

With a start, Robin raced to his room and slammed the door behind him, ‘Mum doesn’t lash out like that normally,’ he thought.

After hurling his books down on his desk, he sat down and flipped through them, reading the words but not understanding them. His mind was not where his body was, but away.

Far away where he was the police superintendent, commanding huge squads. And there was his mother, gazing at him proudly, delicately dabbing her eyes with a lace handkerchief.

Now, with a wave of his hand he would order his troops to march to the army base. They began to march, but wait, why so hard? And why so irregular?

Robin snapped out of his trance. But the hammering went on. He checked his digital watch. It was 10: 52 am!

‘I slept through the night,’ thought Robin in astonishment. He figured that the hammering was his mother knocking on his door, attempting to wake him up.

‘Coming!’ he yelled heaving himself out of his chair.

He opened the door to his bedroom a expecting to find his mother there, fist still in the air, ready to land another blow upon his door.

But to his astonishment, his mother was nowhere in sight. And the banging went on.

‘Maybe mum managed to lock herself outside all night!’ he thought in great alarm.

Robin rushed to the front door and opened it. And there stood Jackson, red in the face from knocking for so long.

‘Jackson!’ exclaimed Robin. ‘What are you doing, trying to break my door down?’

‘Urgent,’ panted Jackson. ‘Policeman…’

‘Whoa whoa whoa,’ interrupted Robin.  ‘Catch your breath. You’d better come in.’

Robin nodded, still puffing away. He followed Robin into his flat and after giving Jack five minutes to catch his breath, Robin asked, ‘Right Jack. What’s up?’

‘The policeman,’ began saying each word slowly as to make Robin understand. ‘He’s dead. He was found in his room today, lying on the floor in a pool of blood. A knife was sticking out of his chest but no fingerprints were found on it. He paused for breath.

Robin was left wide-eyed and utterly speechless. He was frozen in shock and his mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. He felt slightly nauseous.

Then he found his voice, ‘WHAT?!’ he screamed. ‘You’re kidding right?’

‘No!’ barked Jackson impatiently.

‘Let me tell mum,’ cried Robin, feeling excited but still rather petrified at the same time.

He flounced to the kitchen expecting to find his mum there, bustling about, and preparing breakfast. But no, she wasn’t there.

So Robin went to her bedroom. The door was wide open and so was the window. The room was unusually untidy, the bedclothes tied up in knots and half entangled with the metal leg of the bed.

And there on the dressing mirror were the keys to the house.

Robin gasped rather loudly, feeling suddenly weak at the knees.

Jack who was coming up to see what his pal was doing, immediately knew something was wrong where he heard the gasp and saw his usually happy-go-lucky friend clutching the door post with quivering hands and looking rather queasy.

‘Mum never leaves home without her keys,’ whispered Jack, his eyes shiny with tears.

You mean…’ gasped jack.

‘She’s been kidnapped,’ concluded Robin, the words catching in his throat so that he had to virtually spit them out.

Both of them were silent for a while, thinking the same thing then shaking their heads not accepting that it could be true. But the same bitter, hard truth kept coming back, creeping in through the back of their minds.

‘It couldn’t be connected to the murder could it?’

Jack shrugged mutely. He glanced at his watch and in attempt to break the tense atmosphere exclaimed, ‘It’s lunch time. You can come over to my house if you want.’

Robin smiled and nodded graciously and the two boys walked towards the hall, Robin taking the keys along, and out of the door.

By the time he came home from Jack’s house it was late in the evening and Robin decided that a hot bath was what he needed to calm his, still jumpy, nerves.

It was nearly 11:30 pm when he got into bed and Robin fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Immediately he was sucked into a spiral of blood with policemen, his mum, knives, Jackson, keys, doors, knotty bedclothes and an open window leading to freedom.

‘An open window!’ gasped Robin, waking up with a jump. ‘I haven’t closed it yet.’

He leapt out of bed and, for no apparent reason, tiptoed to his mother’s bedroom. The silence was so eerie without the sound of his mother’s breathing. But wait, what was that scuffling? It came from his mother’s room. There must be a robber in there!

Robin was now at the door of the room. He pushed the door open a chink and peered through.

There was a man there and he was pulling a packet of white powder out of a drawer.

‘This is the limit,’ thought Robin. He scurried silently to the hall and picked up the phone. Then he dialled 999. The phone rang for a few moments and suddenly a loud, mechanical voice came from it, ‘Would you like to leave a voice message?’

Robin nearly jumped out of his skin and a hollow felling of dread and fear filled his tummy as the intruder came running in. He was wearing an oversized black jumper, tight black jeans and, as far as Robin could see, only black socks.

‘You’ve gotta come alonga me,’ he said in a fierce whisper. Then for no evident cause he added, ‘Boss’ commands.’

Then, as quick as a flash, he picked up a vase and the last thing Robin saw was shattering china all around him. The pain was unbearable and slowly but surely Robin began to come round. He stood up unsteadily and spotted the intruder pointing at the back of a chair.

He glanced around him and noticed weird looking rusty machinery sticking out of every corner. He was in some kind of old science lab. Then his gaze met the intruder’s again, who bowed to the chair and said, ‘Behold, the Boss.’

The chair swung around and the next thing came to Robin as a shock. He looked at the person in the chair and said, ‘Mum?’

–END–