Campion's Choice

The local police interviewed Jack in the Principal’s study, peppering him with questions that he did his best to answer honestly.

Had he noticed anything suspicious? Yes, an elephant. Did he recognise it? No. It was an unfamiliar elephant. Could he be sure that Gidean wasn’t involved? Yes, pretty sure, because if there’s one thing that makes a noticeable bulge in your pocket it’s an excited elephant.

Finally, at two-thirty, they let him go.

When he came out of the Sixth Form block he wandered in the direction of the school’s main site. It was eerie. The whole place was empty because health and safety had a thing about wild animals.

Jack decided to take a short cut behind the kitchens and from there he could see, in the distance, police cars, a JCB digger, a fire engine and a large van marked ‘ZOO’. Two officers were patrolling that area in front of the school. The only other person around was a young man furtively chaining a moped to a tennis court fence.

Jack’s ancient, cracked mobile phone was held together by rubber bands and sellotape. He took it out and tapped ‘I need a lift home’ into the message box but the words ‘No Service’ came up on his screen. In desperation he waved an arm around to try and get a signal.

No bars. He held it high. No bars. He held it low. No bars.

Searching for a signal and concentrating upon the phone screen, he wandered past the kitchen doors and over towards the rubbish bins. When he got there he walked up a ramp that led to the food delivery doors and then, in desperation, he climbed onto the top of a one of the huge waste bins.

Five bars. Great. Perfect reception.

Because he was wobbling he crouched down and knelt on the bin lid to get his balance. He must be at least eight feet above the ground. It was obvious that falling off one of these things could do you serious damage. After tapping in a message to his grandfather he waited and seconds later a reply beeped back.

‘I heard about the elephant fuss. I’m on my way. Grampus.’

Jack sat back. From up on top of the bin he could see that the moped rider was behaving strangely, ducking behind the bus stop whenever the police looked his way. When he wasn’t being watched ran over to the cricket pavilion and disappeared. It was a surprise when he reappeared right beneath Jack.

Great, he thought, what do I do now? I can’t exactly say, excuse me Mister Shifty, mind if I climb down? If I do, I’m the one who will look suspicious and Moped Man might go to the police and they will start asking me more elephant questions.

Laying down flat, on the bin’s tin lid, he decided to wait. Maybe Moped Man would move along?

‘Oi! Bogbrush!’ someone shouted close by.

At first it was hard to see where the new voice was coming from until Carl, the school’s junior caretaker, walked in front of the bins. He was wearing ragged blue overalls and he was carrying what looked like a dead rat. Jack could see Carl and Moped Man, which meant, if they glanced up, they could see him. Think invisible, he told himself and tried to stay perfectly still.

‘Elvis Carter? What you doin’ ‘ere?’ Carl said, casually swinging the dead rat’s body by its tail.

‘I’m undercover. I do special secret investigation work for the cops. I was just called in.’

The police must be desperate if they were recruiting eight stone weaklings, Jack thought. Although, maybe that was Elvis’ cover?

‘You got an ID card?’ Carl asked eagerly.

‘Oh yeah.’

Elvis opened his wallet and briefly waved a piece of plastic under the caretaker’s nose.

‘Cool. You remember the old gang? They said you worked in an electric shop.’

‘That’s my cover.’

At the front of the school a black police car, with a flashing blue light, edged onto the premises and stopped. A thin woman, in a shiny blue suit, got out. She said a few words to the two officers by the entrance before briskly walking into the main building. That seemed to make Elvis twitchy.

‘Look, Carl, you could save me a lot of time. You could bring me up to speed.’ Elvis said quickly.

‘Wot?’

‘I’ve got a murder waiting for me. So, if you could quickly tell me about the elephant …’

The assistant caretaker looked around anxiously before speaking. He finally gabbled out an answer.

‘One minnit it woz quiet, the next minnit, Fire bells were going, an’ everyone’s yellin’ an’ kids are cryin’ … an’ all the time the flippin’ elephant was making a right row.’

Carl shook his head, his face a picture of surprise and disbelief.

Elvis took out a phone and began tapping on the screen.

‘You don’t mind if I take notes do you?’

‘Wot? I ain’t no grass …’

‘Off the record then.’

Elvis put his phone away. The junior caretaker shuffled close.

‘Three kids found the elephant. Then the police came and zoo people, an’ it all went mental. How did it get in? Maybe it got in through a window? I mean, if it can get it’s trunk through the window, does that mean it can get its ‘ole body through? You know? Like with cats and their whiskers?’

Jack just managed to stifle a snort of laughter. Carl carried on.

‘They can’t get the elephant out. It’s too big an’ they can’t knock it out coz it’ll die.’

‘Who were the kids that found the elephant?’

’One of their dads came and took ’is son away in a big flash car. ‘e turned up wiv a lawyer an’ everythin’. ’E said that ’no son of ’is was ’being ‘eld on suspicion of doing things with animals’. The digger belongs to ’im. ’e said it was ’is ‘civil dooty’ or something to help out in a ‘mergency. The other kids, an’ a teacher, they’re still inside.’

‘That’s brilliant. Now I need to put the place under surveillance. Is this a good place to hide?’

‘Nah. You’re better off over there.’

Carl looked at Elvis. He grinned and pointed at him with the dead rat.

’Remember when the gang stuck you’re ‘ead down the toilet! I wet myself laughin’. You took it really well, Bogbrush.’

‘Old times, eh? Can’t beat them,’ Elvis smiled and smacked Carl’s shoulder playfully with a clenched fist. Carl winced.

‘Just gotta send a quick text.’ Elvis took out his phone.

Jack couldn’t resist stretching to peer over the edge of the bin. It meant he could see the message.

‘I call The Orden to Cambridge.’

Elvis pocketed his mobile just as Carl reached out and pulled a lever at the side of the bin. The lid Jack was lying on began to rise.

‘I forgot to dump the rat,’ Carl laughed and added, ‘Bye, ratty.’

With the lid still rising Jack dug in his fingertips. He heard the echo of a rat’s corpse thumping beneath him into one of the sides of the metal container.

‘I’ll show you where you can watch the fuzz,’ Carl said.

One part of Jack’s brain knew the two young men were moving away but another part was trying to work out how much longer he could possibly hold on to the juddering, still rising, bin lid.

He twisted in desperation and scrabbled with his fingernails. If he fell off he would break his neck. His fingers slipped. It was no good. He dropped head first onto the concrete.