An Awful Disclosure
I waited and waited for Topps to come back. It was awful. I listened to music, I pretended to watch TV with Dad, I flicked through an Empire movie magazine. All the time I was waiting for the doorbell to ring. Fifteen minutes, twenty minutes, half an hour went by. Nothing.
Topps is so stupid. Why did he want to go after Crass? What was the point? Already my instinct was to just forget about the whole thing and go back to my very boring life – that’s my normal reaction. It happened, deal with it and move on. It served me well with Mum. That’s why I handle it better than Dad has. He has never forgotten. Still dwelling in the misty world of some past life, when we were a happy family on holidays in Lakes Entrance or sitting around playing The Game of Life or eating tuna casserole as we laughed about some of the ratbag kids Mum taught.
If it was up to me I’d be back at school Monday and never bother with the Video Saloon again. In a few years all that would remain would be the muddied memories of a few months of stupid decisions and a really bad ending. I just hoped I’d be okay being alone in dark buildings again. I don’t think I’d take the night shift in a morgue, that’s for sure.
Over an hour later and with visions of a bloodied Topps lying in the gutter somewhere with his neck broken (I was sure Crass had caught him), the doorbell rang.
My dad answered and Topps walked in, giving me the “eyebrow”. It meant he had some important news for my ears only. The last time it happened was when Courtney Jarratt had boasted about her top marks for her Foundation Mathematics test. Up went Topps’ eyebrow over the top of his glasses. I bent over and he whispered Courtney had the answers and formulas written on a piece of paper stuck up her jumper sleeve. He’d seen her cheat.
We walked to my room as casually as we could. Dad watched us go. I still don’t think he thought it normal one of my best friends was a guy and it was all purely platonic. At least from my end. I think he had images of Topps trying to get his hand up my top as we lay on my bed.
‘So?’ I asked as I turned on the radio.
‘Well, I followed him.’
‘And you were gone for half an hour. What happened?’
Topps picked up a tattered Dolly magazine. He read from a random article: ‘”Relationship boundaries – are your friend’s ex-boyfriends really off limits?”.’ Hmm, I say no.’
‘Stop being a bugger and spill it, Topps, where was Crass going?’ I said, hitting him on the arm.
He pointed the magazine at me and putting on the voice of a prosecuting lawyer said: ‘My dear Stacey, I can definitely confirm our friend Crass was not going to the gym for a vigorous workout, I can confidently say he has never been to the gym and I can selfassuredly say he is a profiteer of pirated DVD discs.’
‘Alright Judge Judy, just tell me what happened.’
Crass threw the magazine on the ground and grasped me with his arms. His eyes shone behind his glasses and his grin was like a little birthday boy. He was loving it. ‘OK, I followed Crass parallel to the park. I knew where he was going, down past the park and primary school towards the ghetto flats.’
The ghetto flats were a block of thirty or forty grey, depressing flats inhabited by lonely men and single mothers. Dad called it “The Incubator” because the single mothers who lived there seemed to pop babies out of nowhere. There were always kids riding old bikes or kicking a footy on the street out the front. It was as far away from Melrose Hill and Topps’ house as you could get. There’s a stripped Holden Commodore sitting by the footpath like a beached whale. It’d been there years. It seemed to sum up the place. I often had a feeling of dread Dad and I would end up living there soon enough. We didn’t live far from the flats.
‘So I see Crass go into the Ghetto Flats. I hightail it behind some of the cars parked out the front. I see him walking up the stairs to the flats on the first floor. He walks along the landing to flat five. Knocks on the door and goes in. But I didn’t get a good look at who answered the door. So I thought I’d hang around until he came out.’ ‘Didn’t anyone notice you?’
‘A couple of kids sharing a skateboard and a guy in work overalls. He gave me a greasy. But he drove off and the kids ignored me. Fifteen minutes later the door of the flat opened and Crass walked out with that green gym bag. And it was full. I noticed when I followed him it was empty; when he came out it looked pretty heavy.’ ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yep. It was definitely empty when he went in to the flat. When he walked out he was struggling with it. He steps out of the doorway and I get a good look at who he has gone to see.’
‘Who?’
‘The one and only Mr Horror Movie Connoisseur and the Video Saloon’s number one customer himself.’
‘No way. Robert Keppler.’
‘Yep. Positive.’
Topps had seen Robert a couple of times in the store before. Once, when Robert was going on about the differences between Japanese and American horror remakes to me, Topps walked in and started pulling faces behind his back. I almost died. After he’d left, I told Topps who it was. Topps was chuffed to actually see the legendary Robert in the flesh after I’d whinged about him so much at school.
‘Robert? Man, this is freaky,’ I said. ‘Crass must have taken off to Robert’s house when we ran out at lunchtimes. But why?’
‘Robert must have something to do with the pirated DVDs,’ said Topps. ‘Maybe he stores the copies in his flat. Or he copies them for Crass. Crass then picks them up at lunch time.’
‘Crass went out almost every day I was at work,’ I said. ‘He’d come back with the bag full. Then he’d always bring the bag out to the back – or perhaps down into the basement. From there he must put them into envelopes – the envelopes I gave to his customers. I mean, he must have been getting them from somewhere!’
‘It makes sense,’ said Topps. ‘He gets copies from his own supplier or originals from the store and he then burns a load himself – or more likely gets Robert to do it for him. He can offer his customers new stuff or quality copies of original movies and games. But then why does Robert come to the Video Saloon so often?’
‘He has to come in to pick up the original discs that he burns copies from – then he drops them off again the next day.’
I remembered the blank disc in the cover of the horror movie Robert accidentally brought it. What was it? Night Falls? He’d told Crass he was copying them for his own collection. Crass had teased him about it. The disc must have been one of the pirated discs they were going to sell. The way Crass had treated him, I never would have guessed. Crass must have been covering it up. More likely it was arrogance. Robert had stuffed up by accidentally bringing in a copy, so Crass played up to it, giving Robert a good run down in front of totally naïve Stacey. What could Robert do about it? Nothing. He had to play along. And he got those rentals for free, too. That must have been why there were so many credits on his rental history. It was just bizarre that Crass rented them out instead of just giving them to him on the sly. Although that meant Robert could return some of the discs each day without arousing suspicion. Crass would then only need to go to his house once, to pick them up.
‘Or perhaps Robert comes to the store because he has a sort of wannabe romantic, slash, psychotic relationship with the staff,’ said Topps, interrupting my train of thought. ‘What do you mean by that?’
‘I mean, that’s not all. Robert comes out onto the landing for a second and I see a mega-sized bruise on his head, right on his forehead, as big and purple as an eggplant.’ ‘Oh, man.’
The intruder had fallen down the stairs, twisted around as he fell, and hit his head on the steps. It would have given him a huge bruise, if not concussion. It couldn’t have been a coincidence. It made too much sense. ‘Robert must have been the intruder,’ I gasped. ‘He was the one inside the Video Saloon. He chased me down into the basement. He’s the psycho!’
‘Are you sure it’s him though? Why would he do it? Does he want to be a real life stalker or what?’
‘I dunno. But I reckon Crass must have had something to do with it, though. There has to be some connection between Crass leaving early that night and Robert stalking me. How else would Robert have known I was alone? I’m never in the store at ten o’clock.’ Topps shook his head. ‘Why would Crass want Robert to scare you half to death? What’d be the point?’
I knew exactly why. ‘To make me quit!’ I said. ‘To get me out of the way. If both of them work together on the pirating, why couldn’t they be working together on the staff harassment thing? I knew about the pirating and I wasn’t too polite when I found those bikini discs– I half threatened Crass when I said I didn’t want anything more to do with his business. Now, if he had wanted me gone, it’s worked, that’s for sure.’ This was all too weird. Crass and Robert in on the DVD copying business together. Then what about Vince? Crass said he knew about it, he just made sure he turned a blind eye. This was all like a sick prank. We both sat in silence, just taking in what Topps had seen.
‘Why would Crass risk doing that? You could just phone the police and tell them everything,’ said Topps eventually.
‘Because I was in on it as well. I can’t tell the police. Man, it adds up. I locked the door when I left the store but by the time the police searched the place Robert had disappeared. Crass must have set it up, that’s why he got me to lock up and he left early. He leaves, gives Robert his key, Robert hides down the front of the store until I lock up, he gives me a series of prank calls, I freak, job gone. Crass must have known I wouldn’t come back.’
‘So he gets Robert to chase you down into the basement?’
‘Dunno, but I wouldn’t put it past him. I really reckon both of them are sick in the head.’
‘You’re wrong, Crass isn’t such as dumb punk after all,’ laughed Topps bitterly. ‘He keeps his nose clean, do you realise that? He gets Robert to copy the movies and stalk you, then he gets you and Caitlin to hand the discs out to customers and he uses Vince’s premises to keep them all in. Makes it hard to point the finger at him.’ ‘I reckon he told Caitlin to warn me about telling the police, too. There’s no way she would have known about what happened so early. She was scared about getting in trouble, he knew that. He’d have known she could put on the drama to stop me telling the police about the pirated DVDs.’
Topps was fiddling with my shell bracelet I left on my cabinet; he never could keep still long. ‘And now our friend Crass will get a new assistant,’ he said, trying the bracelet on. ‘Someone else to hassle and do his dirty work for him.’
‘I just wonder if Vince has anything to do with it.’
‘If he does, he’s kept quiet.’
Man. It made me mad. Really angry. If what we both thought was true, I was just another useless little plaything to them. I hated being treated like that. Mum always taught me to stand up for myself. I remember her saying people deserved to be treated with respect. She hated bullies. She once taught a kid named Gregory Thubron in her Grade 5 class. He was sort of slow, a bit of a loner. He got picked on badly by a bully named Evan. So Mum got Gregory and Evan out the front of the class. Then she had the rest of the class tell her why Gregory deserved to be picked on. Of course, nobody gave any decent answers. Evan said it was because Gregory smelled bad, but he got booed for this, so he shut-up. Then Mum asked why he shouldn’t be picked on. The kids came up with a couple of answers each and soon the entire blackboard was filled with good reasons against bullying. One of them was that if Evan got to know Gregory better, he may actually like him. This gave Mum an idea. She made both of them sit together and gave them bin and duster duty together for the rest of the month. Soon they actually did become friends. Mum was proud of that.
Well, there was no way I was going to become friends with Crass and Robert. I’d tried being friendly. And they weren’t going to get away with this. I was just a dumb chick who had been treated like a piece of kid’s Play-dough. Moulded, squeezed and thrown out. As tempted as I was just to let it all slide, I had a burning desire to get back at Crass. I knew Topps would be in on it too.
‘Topps,’ I said. ‘I reckon it’s time to get even.’
Topps broke into a grin. ‘Cool idea, but how?’
I reached into my pocket and brought out the store key I had accidentally taken with me the night Robert had spooked me. I’d found it a few days ago, wedged into the money pocket of my jeans.
‘This could come in handy,’ I said with a wicked grin.
‘The store key! You can get into the Video Saloon?’
‘Yep.’
‘And you know the alarm code?’
‘1-2-4-8. Easy. Every number doubled. Vince never changes it.’
‘You’re not serious are you though Stacey? It’s illegal. We’d be breaking and entering.’
I was getting excited now. It’s usually Topps jumping up and down when we’re working on a drama play about Viking raids for a history assignment or playing a console game and we get to the twelfth and final level, and me trying to calm him down. Not this time though. I could feel the adrenalin starting to pump like I’d never felt it before. ‘I reckon Crass’ll keep his DVDs in the store basement next week. He works Monday and Tuesday by himself, it’s the perfect time to keep copies in the store. He brings them back, sorts them out, puts them in envelopes, bags them up and distributes them the next day. Easy. There’s nobody there to bother him. We’ve just got to get to the pile of DVDs first.’
‘Yeah, but you’re not really serious about breaking in are you?’
I was pumped. ‘We get a bunch of samples – including those smutty DVDs – we bag them up and send them express to Detective Rooks. Write him a short explanation note. He investigates, Crass gets done, hopefully with Vince and Robert Keppler along the way.’
‘Yeah, good thinking Stacey, but you’re not really serious, about breaking in?’ said Topps again, adjusting his glasses and biting down on his bottom lip.
‘The only problem is Crass will be mightily angry if he discovers what I’ve done. It just means we have to compose our letter to the detective very carefully. Here Topps, grab a pen, let’s write a draft. Then we’ve got to organise how to get down to the store next week – it has to be past midnight. And we’ve got to get in and out fast.’ Topps looked at the pen and paper I’d shoved at him, looked up at me holding the store key and saw the manic glint in my eye.
‘You are serious, aren’t you?’ he groaned.