CHAPTER TWO
"That's pretty weird," Robert commented.
"Who'd want to steal truckloads of spot cream?" Cody wrinkled her nose.
Matthew looked at Ian meaningfully. "Is there something you'd like to share with the group, Ian?"
"Shut up," Ian responded.
"Yeah, Matt," Philip objected. "You can't possibly suspect Ian. His record is..." he collapsed into giggles, "spotless."
"Yes, very amusing, I'm sure," Wilburts said dourly.
"I'd still like to talk to this truck driver," Ian decided.
"Go see Corporal Harris. He'll give you the details," Wilburts told them.
"Right," Ian nodded. The gang headed off.
Wilburts allowed himself a small smirk when they'd gone. "Spotless," he chuckled.
Ian's Gang were in their van, heading for Jeff Nance's house.
"Why are we talking to this guy again?" Steve wanted to know.
Matthew shrugged. "Monday morning. Nothing else to do."
Ian glared. "I just want him to go over it again. Wilb may have missed something, or Mr Nance may be feeling better now and have remembered something he'd forgotten before."
"In other words," Philip translated, "we've nothing else to do." Ian scowled.
"But why are we doing this in the first place?" Steve grumbled. "Truck hijackings? Hardly in our charter, is it?"
Cody frowned. "We have a charter?"
Matthew chuckled. "Ooh, Ian's getting angry. His face is going red - oh no, wait, that's just the zit."
The gang tittered, even Cody.
Ian scowled.
Wilburts had decided there was nothing more he could do at the scene, and it was time to head back to the army base and leave his men to it, when Corporal Harris ran up.
"Sir?"
"What is it, Corporal?"
"We've had a call from Mona Jarrett, Head mistress of Maltby High - "
"Yes, I know who she is, Corporal," Wilburts interrupted irritably. "What does she want?"
"She says she needs to talk to you."
"About?"
"She didn't say, sir. She just said it was urgent... sir."
Wilburts frowned.
Ian knocked on Jeff Nance's front door.
"He's probably not even in," Charlotte commented.
"Yeah, after an experience like that, he's probably off down the local knocking shop," Matthew agreed. Charlotte looked at him. "Hey, it's what I’d do!"
"Ssh," Ian hushed as the door opened.
Nance appeared in the doorway. "Yes, can I help you?"
The gang recoiled.
"Bugger me," Matthew did a double-take.
"No thanks, not today," Philip replied in a whisper.
"I... er... Mr Nance...er... Ian's Gang," Ian tried to reorient himself. "Could we have a word?"
"If you insist," Nance opened the door wider.
The gang traipsed in.
Dean nudged Charlotte, indicating Nance. "Bloody hell, ay?"
One minor thing Wilburts had neglected to tell the gang about Jeff Nance was that his entire face was covered in spots. Not just spots, red, huge, revolting zits, all apparently swollen to bursting point.
"I think we've found our prime suspect," Robert noted.
"No shit," Matthew agreed. "If anyone needs to hijack five trucks' worth of spot cream, this guy does!"
Wilburts arrived at Maltby High School. In between traversing the corridors, trying not to bump into the students, and trying not to look (too long) at all the hot little teenage girls, Wilburts couldn't help but notice that just about every student had a face full of spots and acne, way above what might be considered normal even for a teenage hothouse such as this.
Wilburts reached Mona Jarrett's office, and knocked on the door. "Commander Wilburts, ma'am."
"Come in."
Wilburts entered. Jarrett was on the phone, and as he waited, Wilburts contemplated if there was a connection between what he'd seen outside and the hijacking of the trucks. Could it be some kind of weird terrorist plot to create a spot epidemic in Maltby? Jarrett got off the phone and Wilburts dismissed the idea as ridiculous.
"Commander," Mona waved him to a seat.
"So, er - Miss..." Wilburts hesitated as he saw two huge red spots just above Jarrett's upper lip. They looked revolting. "Ms Jarrett, what can I do for you?"
"Actually, Commander," Jarrett smiled a rather odd smile. "It's more a case of what I can do... to you."
"Mr Nance, we were just wondering if there was anything more you'd like to add to the statement you gave Commander Wilburts earlier this morning?" Ian avoided looking at Nance's face; he kept trying to look him in the eye, only to drift off and stare him in the zits.
"Not really. Why would there be?" Nance turned his back on the gang, seemingly ignoring them.
"I just thought... if the shock's worn off... you might have remembered something else?"
"No."
"Oh." Ian felt vaguely foolish. "Well, er... I'm sorry we've wasted your time. Come on, guys." He turned to go.
"Wait." Was it Ian's imagination, or did Nance's voice sound different, squeaky even? "There is something I'd like... to show you."
The gang stopped. "Oh?" Ian queried.
Nance turned. His red, swollen face was... moving. Or rather, his spots were.
"What the - " Ian began.
Nance's zits exploded, showering the gang with puss...