Gone in the Night. Mary-Jane Riley

skull, and his whole face was covered in what Alex thought were Maori-type tattoos. His bottom lip, eyebrow and cheek were pierced, and one of his earlobes had been stretched so it hung fleshily down.

      ‘Cora.’ Boney had a high-pitched voice but with a cultured accent. Alex wondered what his story was and whether he might tell her sometime. Could make a good article. He smiled and held out his arms. His incisors had been filed to sharp points. ‘Long time no see.’

      Behind Boney Alex saw a disparate group of men and women, girls and boys, all thin and grubby and all dressed in what looked like cast-offs. Many of them didn’t look more than teenagers. She was reminded of the Lost Boys from Peter Pan and her heart bled for them. She thought of her own son, Gus, and how easily he could have ended up as a lost boy, but thankfully he had weathered the crises that had beset him as a teenager and as a young man trying to find his way in the world. Now he was safely at university with his girlfriend. He’d be back soon for a weekend of rest and relaxation and she couldn’t wait to see him.

      Cora ignored the open arms and folded her own. ‘Boney.’

      ‘Still looking for that wastrel brother of yours?’

      ‘Yes. Please, Boney, have you any idea where he might be?’

      Alex stepped forward, she needed to be at the front of this. ‘And Martin. Apparently he’s gone missing too, together with Nobby and a woman called Lindy. That’s four people.’ She lifted her chin.

      ‘Who might you be?’ Boney’s tongue flicked out of his mouth and played with his lip ring. His eyes gleamed.

      ‘I’m Alex.’ She wished he wouldn’t do that with his tongue and the ring, it was really disconcerting.

      ‘And what have you got to do with our delicious Cora?’

      ‘I’m a friend. I’m helping her look for Rick.’

      ‘First I’ve heard about Cora having a little friend. Usually too busy with work and looking after Rick, isn’t that right, Cora? Always helping the fucking cripples.’

      ‘Shut up, Boney.’ Cora brushed his words aside. ‘And Rick isn’t a cripple. I’ve helped you and now it’s payback time. That was the deal if you remember. One good turn and all that. You know everything that happens on the streets. You must have heard something about Rick. About Martin.’

      ‘And Lindy. And Nobby,’ said Alex, wondering how exactly Cora had helped Boney in the past.

      Boney’s eyes narrowed. Now his smile was dangerous, his teeth vicious. His followers shuffled impatiently behind him. As yet, none of them had said a word. ‘If you take my advice,’ he said, enunciating every word and sounding like a school teacher, ‘you will forget about Lindy and Martin and Nobby and, yes, even Ricky-boy, and get on with your lives. Nice shiner you’ve got there, Cora. I’d’ve thought you got that message last night.’ He turned his head sharply and his eyes bored into Alex. ‘You too, Alex Devlin. Don’t think I don’t know who you are. Journalist.’ He spat out the word.

      Alex was shaken but was determined not to show it. ‘If you know who I am then you know I like to write about social issues.’ She was pleased to hear her voice came out evenly.

      He pulled at his earlobe. ‘Really? Social issues.’ He laughed. ‘What bollocks. Social fucking issues. Want to write my life story?’

      ‘I might,’ said Alex, determined to stand her ground and not be intimidated. ‘Can’t promise anything though.’

      Boney did nothing for a moment, then a smile curled his lips. ‘Fuck me. Ballsy. I like that. As for you, Cora, no can do, I’m afraid. I guess your old bro has just buggered off. Like the rest.’ He shrugged. ‘It happens.’

      ‘I don’t believe you, Boney,’ said Cora, hotly. ‘You know everything that goes on. And you owe me.’

      ‘I owe you nothing. Now, get out of here. Before I make you go.’

      ‘What’ll you do?’ said Alex, emboldened. ‘Call the police?’

      ‘Come on, Alex.’ Cora tugged at her sleeve. ‘He’s not going to help us. I should have known his word’s not to be trusted.’

      Boney’s mocking laughter followed them out of the cemetery.

      ‘So, what was the favour you did for the charming Boney?’

      They were sitting in a coffee shop back in the city trying to get warm and dry, two sausage rolls and two cups of coffee in front of them. Alex couldn’t feel her toes.

      ‘I stitched up one of his gang members after a knife fight,’ said Cora, her hands shredding a paper serviette. She looked down at what she was doing and gave a hollow laugh. ‘See, I don’t know what to do with my hands when I can’t smoke.’ She shaped the pieces of serviette into a pile.

      ‘Drink some coffee.’ Alex pushed the cup towards her. Cora curled her hands around the china mug. ‘Had Rick been involved? Is that why you did it?’

      ‘Got it in one,’ said Cora. ‘A fight between the homeless guys and some youths from the city. Boney and his boys waded in. I didn’t want the coppers coming along, shutting Rick away. He wouldn’t be able to stand that, you see. But Boney. I thought he’d be as good as his word. That’ll teach me. I won’t make that mistake again,’ said Cora. ‘At the time he said he owed me one. Would repay me. Shows there’s no honour among thieves.’ She shook her head. ‘But you know, I can’t believe he doesn’t know something.’

      ‘You’re right.’ Alex took a sip of her coffee. ‘I’ve been doing this job for so long now that you develop a sixth sense for when people are lying. And he was lying.’ Alex put her cup down carefully. ‘What happened last night, Cora?’

      Cora’s head snapped up. ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘Boney said that you had a message last night. What did he mean? It’s something to do with that nasty bruise on your cheek, isn’t it? And you’ve been moving as if you hurt in other places too.’

      ‘Oh, that.’

      ‘Yes, that, Cora.’

      Cora drank some coffee. ‘Couple of thugs tied me up and threw me into a wheelie bin.’ Alex gasped. ‘Told me to stop poking my nose in where it wasn’t wanted.’

      ‘Cora – anything could have happened. The bin lorry could have come and—’

      ‘It very nearly did. But whoever was behind it didn’t want me to die. Not yet anyway. They paid someone to let me out just in time.’

      Alex looked at her steadily. ‘Who do you think’s involved?’

      ‘Dunno.’ Cora avoided her eyes.

      Alex didn’t believe her.

      ‘You asked me about the Riders.’

      ‘So?’ Still Cora didn’t – or wouldn’t – look at her.

      ‘You don’t like them.’

      ‘No shit, Sherlock. Look, leave it, Alex.’

      Alex put down her coffee cup. ‘You think it’s one of them.’

      ‘I said, leave it.’

      But Alex didn’t want to ‘leave it’. She decided to try another avenue. ‘So Boney knew about it. The wheelie bin thing, I mean.’

      ‘It would seem so.’

      ‘Do you know his real name?’

      Cora smiled, a real smile that lit up her face and chased away the pasty edges. ‘Someone on the street told me once. Nigel.’

      Alex raised an eyebrow. ‘Nigel?’

      ‘Nigel Bennet.’

      Alex grinned. ‘He doesn’t look much like any Nigels I know.’ She fished