The Name of the Star - Maureen Johnson [97]
I shook my head.
“All right,” he said. “The two of you stay here. I’ll be back.”
Stephen was gone for about ten minutes. Jo came by on a break from patrolling the building, and Boo told her what was going on, so she stayed with us. When Stephen returned he had a plastic shopping bag with him, which he tossed onto the table. The bag had one busted handle and looked dirty, like it had come from the trash. Inside, there was a lump of black and white cloth and a very bright green plastic object.
“Put that on,” he said.
I dumped out the bag and found what had been inside was a bunched-up police uniform, complete with the vest.
“Where did you get this?” Boo asked.
“It’s Callum’s,” he said.
“What’s he wearing?”
“At the moment, not much of anything. Put it on.”
I noticed Boo perk up a bit at this piece of information.
“I’ll go and have a chat with your matron. Change. Put your clothes in the bag. Hurry.”
Callum and I were of a similar height; the pants were a little long, but not insanely so. The shirt was much too large—Callum had big arm muscles and a chest that was wide in different places. The belt was heavy and loaded down with things like handcuffs, a flashlight, a baton, and what appeared to be Mace. The tactical vest was also massive and heavy, with a radio on the shoulder.
“Take my shoes,” Boo said.
She was wearing a pair of black flats, something she could easily slip on. They were kind of sweaty inside and too large for me, but they were better than the pink dotted slippers I’d been wearing. Stephen knocked once, then opened the door while I was still making the final adjustments.
“What about me?” Boo said.
“You can’t move with that leg. Plus, you’re needed here with a terminus in case I’m wrong. And you have to do this . . .”
He took out his notebook and wrote something down, then passed it to her. “You figure out a way to get this message all over those cameras at the vigil. Quick as you can.”
“I can help with that,” Jo said.
The helmet didn’t fit at all. It was one of those tall, distinctly English bobby helmets. It had a large silver badge on the front, topped with a crown. The helmet was heavy and instantly fell over my eyes.
“Just hold it in place by the brim,” Stephen said. “It’s the wrong headgear for female officers, so keep your head down.”
“I don’t look like a cop.”
“It doesn’t have to fool anyone close up,” Stephen added. “All we have to do is walk out of the building and around the corner. I’ve sent Claudia off to check a window. We need to move.”
Boo looked pained that we were leaving, but it was all happening very fast.
“You lot be careful,” she said. “And don’t do anything stupid.”
“We’ll see you in a few hours,” Stephen said. “Stay alert. Keep Jo with you.”
Getting out of Wexford was easy—it was only a few steps down the hall, then a few more steps to the front door. We walked past the common room so quickly that all anyone saw was two briskly moving, vaguely police-like figures.
Once we were outside, it felt like a very different game. There were four police officers out front. Most were talking to each other or staring at the people who were coming and going from the vigil. Still, one of them turned in my direction. I put my head down instantly, holding the stupid helmet in place. There was a radio attached to the shoulder of Callum’s vest, so I pretended to be talking into that. I couldn’t walk that steadily in Boo’s slightly oversized shoes, and once again, the stupid cobblestones were my enemy. I felt the cuff that I had shortened by tucking it up the pant leg coming slowly undone. Stephen couldn’t support me because that would have looked too odd, but he walked very close, so I could bump into him as a way of keeping from falling over. He walked me straight down the cobblestone street, which led past one of the classroom buildings, and then to the main shopping road. As soon as we were clear of the place, Stephen caught me by the arm to help me. He half dragged me down the street, turning abruptly at