The Whole Business with Kiffo and the Pitbull by Barry Jonsberg Read Free Book Online Page A

‘Borrowed my mate’s motorbike. Followed her home from school.’
    â€˜What are we going to do when we get there? I mean, for all we know, she could spend her evenings doing crosswords or pulling the wings off butterflies or sharpening her teeth. I can’t imagine she has a loving circle of friends. And what if she has family?’ I really couldn’t imagine the Pitbull having family, mind you. She wasn’t born, she was quarried. Nonetheless, I thought it was unlikely that she’d be out of an evening dancing at the local club or taking embroidery classes. I could see us sitting outside her house most of the night with nothing to show for it.
    â€˜It’s sorted,’ said Kiffo. ‘She’s got a dog.’
    â€˜A dog?’ I repeated. This was getting worse. ‘How does that help us?’
    â€˜She takes it for a walk. Every night, the same time. Seven to eight-thirty. You can set your watch by it. Plenty of time for me to be in there, out again and both of us to be home before she gets halfway through exercising the mutt. Trust me.’
    I shivered, even though the evening was uncomfortably warm. This was Kiffo’s thing, his expertise. In the classroom, I was the boss. I knew my way around a poem. He knew his way around other people’s houses. I thought about the different worlds we inhabited and wondered how I had managed to get myself involved in his.
    We eventually stopped outside a small, low-set house in a nondescript area of the city. Kiffo and I stood across the road under a large casuarina where we were reasonably safe from prying neighbours. He hunkered down and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his camouflage jacket. He offered me one. I shook my head. I was developing enough bad habits for one evening. Aiding and abetting a break-in, an accomplice to a serious crime, a gangster’s moll. Kiffo lit up and looked across the road with narrowed eyes. I wasn’t sure if this was because of the smoke or because he thought it was tough. I crouched down beside him and practised narrowing my eyes. He pointed at the house with his cigarette.
    â€˜Ten minutes. Then she’ll be gone. All you gotta do is watch out for anyone who might be suspicious and let me know. I’ll only be in there ten minutes. Piece of cake.’
    â€˜Yeah,’ I said, ‘and just how am I supposed to let you know if someone does get suspicious? Set off fireworks, use a loud-hailer, assemble a marching band?’
    Kiffo narrowed his eyes further. God, I wished I could do that. I made a resolution to practise. He kept silent for a while, and with one of those horrible sinking feelings, I realised that this was something he hadn’t given much thought to. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised.
    â€˜You’ll think of something,’ he replied finally, showing more faith in me than I could summon. ‘Anyway, quiet. Here she is.’
    I wasn’t encouraged by the fact that she was eight minutes early according to Kiffo’s calculations. Maybe he wasn’t too fussy when it came to setting his watch. Maybe he couldn’t tell the time. Not that it mattered. I watched as the Pitbull opened the front door of her house and came out, trying to restrain the biggest dog I had ever seen in my life. I mean this thing was huge . And it looked as bad-tempered as hell. So would I if I had to share living space with the Pitbull, mind. Even so, this was clearly a dog with limited things on its mind. Like ripping people to shreds, for example. It strained at the lead as if anxious to find someone in need of shredding, its bulging muscles gleaming in the porch light. By now, the evening had settled and the dark was profound. There was nothing behind us except a sports oval and I knew that from the Pitbull’s point of view we would have been lost in the gloom beneath the tree. I was worried about the dog, though. Maybe it would smell us. Hell, the way I was