Double Cross (11 page)

Careful,Tobey. You're definitely getting paranoid.

I mean, why should anyone be watching me? It's not
like I'd done this before. It wasn't like I was going to be
making a habit of this either.

Tobey, just deliver the package and go.

A deep breath later, I rang the doorbell. At least I didn't
feel quite so close to spewing my guts out this time. The
door opened after a few seconds. A man only a few years
older than me opened the door. I'm tall, but he was taller.
And broader. And heavier. The man wore denim jeans
and a blue T-shirt beneath a black leather jacket. I
wondered why he was wearing a jacket indoors, especially
in this weather. Not that I was about to ask him. His
designer trainers were clearly new because they were still
out-of-the-box clean. His collar-length black hair was
gelled back off his face and his dark-blue eyes were cold as
deep, still water.

'Can I help you?'

'I'm looking for Adam Eisner.'

'That's me,' the man replied.

'Could I see some ID please?'

'Who are you?' A stillness came over the guy that
instantly had me on my guard. He looked ready, willing
and more than able to tip me over the balcony onto the
concrete three storeys below.

'I've got a package for Adam Eisner and I've been
instructed not to hand it over to anyone else.'

'And I've already told you, I'm Adam Eisner.'

'May I see some proof ?'

The man's eyes narrowed. 'What's your name?'

I didn't answer.

'Who told you to deliver this so-called package?'

I didn't answer that either. Not that I could hear much
over the sound of my heart trumpeting. This didn't feel
right – at all. The man started to reach into his leather
jacket pocket.

'Dan sent me,' I said quickly. 'I'm just helping out Dan.
He's the one who told me not to give this to anyone else
but Adam Eisner.'

The man's hand slowed, then stopped before emerging
from his pocket, empty.

'So what's your name, kid?' asked the man.

No way was I going to answer that one.

The man unexpectedly smiled. 'You appear to have
more brains than your friend Dan. So do yourself a favour,
believe that I'm Adam Eisner and hand over the package.'

I did myself a favour.

Minutes later, I was out of the block of flats and heading
back to the Wasteland. Dan and I had agreed to meet up
there after all our deliveries had been made. When I felt
sure that I was far enough away from the flats, I hopped
on a bus to take me back to more familiar territory. I
could've been mistaken for an owl, the way my head kept
constantly turning round whilst I was on the bus. Two
parcels and one evening of doing this and already I
was acting like I was some kind of criminal. That said
something in itself. I tried to tell myself that it was just
nerves, that I was worrying over nothing, but somehow
that didn't help. I obviously wasn't cut out for this line
of work.

You know what? Sod this. No amount of money was
worth this feeling of not being able to walk down the
street without constantly checking over my shoulder. This
was my first, last and only job for Dan. Ever.

When I finally got to the Wasteland, Dan was already
waiting for me. He was standing on the sidelines of the
football pitch. And he wasn't happy.

'Where the hell have you been?'

'Walking,' I replied.

'You should've been back thirty minutes ago.'

'Well, I'm here now.'

'Did everything go OK?' asked Dan.

That rather depends on your definition of OK, I
thought.

'I delivered the packages like you asked me,' I said.

'Was Mr Eisner OK with that?' Dan swayed nervously
before me like a mesmerized snake.

'Eventually,' I replied. 'He refused to show me any ID
and because I'm fond of breathing, I didn't insist.'

'Tobey . . .' Dan was winding up for a rant, but I got in
first.

'Don't start with me, Dan. The man was two metres
tall, almost as wide, resembled a pit bull and I wasn't about
to argue with him. You got a problem with that?'

'But he had black hair and was wearing a black jacket,
right?'

I nodded. Dan sighed with relief.

'So where's my money?' I asked.

'When I get paid, you'll get paid,' said Dan.

I scowled at him. 'That's not what you said earlier.'

'I said you'll get half of what I make, but I won't get my
money until tomorrow – or Sunday at the latest.'

I stood perfectly still and counted my heartbeats until
the fire raging inside me began to dampen down. Dan
kept looking away from my unblinking glare, still swaying
uneasily.

'Dan, don't play me,' I warned him softly.

'I'm not,' Dan denied. 'I can't conjure money out of
thin air. When I get mine, then you'll get yours.'

We both knew he'd implied otherwise. This wasn't part
of our deal, not even close.

'When exactly will I get my money, Dan?' I asked.

'By the end of this weekend. Look, as we're mates, I'll
pay you out of my own savings. How's that? I'll go to the
bank tomorrow and get you what you're owed. Every
penny. Be here at four tomorrow and I'll give it to you.'

'I work on Saturdays,' I reminded him.

'So work a half-day or call in sick,' said Dan. 'It'll be
worth it.'

I regarded him without saying a word. At least if I went
to work, I knew I'd get paid. If I turned up at four
tomorrow afternoon and Dan was nowhere in sight, what
then?

'Tobey, you'll get your money,' Dan said, exasperated.
'Trust me.'

'Why? 'Cause you've got my back?'

Now it was Dan's turn to remain silent.

'I'll see you tomorrow at four,' I sighed. 'Don't be late.'

I turned round. In my head I was already at home and
stretched out on my bed.

'Tobey?' Dan began.

Wearily, I faced him. 'Yeah?'

A flush of red stole up Dan's neck and across his cheeks.
If I didn't know better, I'd say he was embarrassed.

'You and I are friends, right?'

'Yeah.' At least, I used to think so.

'Well, I've gotcha. OK?'

I scrutinized Dan. His embarrassment couldn't be
feigned.

'OK.' I nodded.

'I've got some more deliveries to make tomorrow if
you want to double your money,' said Dan hopefully.

I frowned. So much for having my back. Only as long
as I could be useful to him, by the sound of it.

'I haven't seen a single penny yet,' I replied. 'Two times
nothing is still nothing.'

'Trust me.'

'No thanks, Dan. Today was enough for me. More than
enough.'

'But you've seen how easy it is to make money. A
couple of drop-offs here, a collection or two there.
Nothing to it.'

'Nothing being the operative word. I'm not interested,
Dan. Just give me the money you owe me tomorrow and
we'll call it quits.'

Not wanting to prolong the argument, I headed home.
I still couldn't shake the feeling that I'd just made one of
the biggest mistakes of my life.

I couldn't hide in my bedroom for the rest of my days.
Was I really going to let my uncle take over my life again?
I couldn't. I wouldn't. And yet I already had. Every
thought, every breath I took was now wrapped around
him. I sat and brooded as the hours crept by. More than
once stray tears escaped to run down my face. I brushed
them aside impatiently. That wasn't going to make my
problem go away. But what should I do? At last I made up
my mind. I took my phone out of my jacket pocket, but
my index finger still hesitated before pressing the first
digit.

Did I really want to do this?

What choice did I have?

I phoned Uncle Jude's private number, the mobile
phone number that he gave out to very few people. But
he'd given it to me when I was his soldier. When I was his
puppet.

'The number you called has not been recognized,' some
woman's toneless voice informed me. 'Please check and
try again.'

I tried twice more, just in case I'd inadvertently or
subconsciously called the wrong number, only to receive
the same message. I was still alone. Mum was out with
Nathan and Nana Meggie was out with friends. I didn't
want to be alone any more.

What if Uncle Jude was out there right now watching
me? What was he planning? He didn't take a breath
without plotting its speed and trajectory first. What did he
have in store for me? Because one thing was certain: if he
really was still alive, I'd be at the top of his revenge list.
And Uncle Jude was a very patient man.

Maybe it was what I deserved.

Maybe it was all I deserved.

I went to my bedroom window to look out over the
back of our house and our neighbours' houses. It was so
still outside. A few birds swooped in the sky and the occasional
plane flew in and out of view, but that was all. I
went into Mum's bedroom and looked out her window.
A number of people walked by over the next thirty-something
minutes, Nought and Cross – but not Uncle Jude.

It didn't matter. I didn't have to see him to know he
was out there. Somewhere. I wrapped my arms around
myself. I was trembling. Actually trembling. Fear tore at
me like some carrion bird.

Oh, Tobey, where are you?

I need you.

I need you to tell me that everything will be all right.

I need you to tell me I'm imagining things.

I need you to let me hide in your pocket. Bring me out
for birthdays and holidays.

Tobey, where are you?

'Earlier today, Louise Resnick of Knockworth Park
received a gruesome package. It contained the little finger
taken from the left hand of a person, thought to be her
husband. DNA tests are being carried out to confirm this.
Louise Resnick's husband is Ross Resnick, a well-known
businessman with alleged links to the Dowd family.
Unconfirmed reports state that Ross Resnick has been
missing for three days. It is thought that one of Mrs
Resnick's three children immediately called the police
once the package was opened. Louise Resnick was unavailable
for comment . . .'

Ross Resnick's smiling Cross face filled the TV screen. A
photograph taken when he didn't have a care in the world.
I switched off the TV. The ten o'clock news was making
me sick. Physically sick. Icy sweat covered my forehead.
The chilli I'd just eaten was bouncing up and down in my
stomach. Taking the stairs two and three at a time, I raced
for the bathroom and threw up. I mean, I erupted like a
volcano. I vomited so hard and for so long, I was bringing
up baby food.

That package . . .

There'd been a
finger
in the package I'd delivered.
Omigod! That woman, Louise Resnick, standing at her
front door, taking the package from me. Had she opened
it in front of her kids? Is that what happened? Did she
scream? Drop it? Cry? Did she instantly know what it was?
Who the finger belonged to? I knelt on the hard, tiled
bathroom floor, my hands gripping the toilet seat. I was
cold. When did it get so cold? And yet, sweat was still
dripping off me.

A finger. I'd delivered a finger. Frickin' Dan. I was
going to kill him. That poor woman. So much for
ducking the CCTV cameras in the area. What . . . what
if she gave my description to the police? What if the
police thought I had something to do with chopping
off her husband's little finger. Oh God . . . Suppose I
couldn't prove I had nothing to do with it? One package,
one delivery, and I might get banged up in prison
because of it. What had been in the other package?
Something just as bad? I'd assumed . . . what had I
assumed? Drugs, I suppose. Or maybe money. But
nothing like this.

I got up on auto-pilot to wash my hands and clean my
teeth. I kept thinking about the package I'd held in my
hands, the package that Louise Resnick had opened, the
contents that her kids had seen.

Oh hell . . .

Don't shoot me, I'm only the messenger.

Don't blame me, I'm only the delivery boy.

Don't hurt me. I'm only seventeen. I only did it for the
money. I just needed some money.

Shit.

I went back to my bedroom, made sure the door was
firmly shut and hit the speed-dial icon on my phone. Dan
picked up after the second ring.

'Dan, have you seen the news?' I launched
straight in.

'I didn't know what was in the package. I swear I
didn't,' Dan protested.

Guess he'd seen the news then.

'You must've had some idea,' I said furiously. 'Louise
Resnick knows what I look like. She'll describe me to the
police and they'll do a photo-fit ID or something. Once a
drawing of me hits the TV and the papers, how long
before someone recognizes me and tells the police who I
am?'

'Hang on. You're getting a bit ahead of yourself—' Dan
began.

But I wasn't having it. 'You don't want to go there,
Dan. You really don't.' I was that close to losing it
completely. 'You're not in the frame for this. I am.'

Pause.

'Or was that the whole point?' I asked slowly.

'What d'you mean?' I could hear the frown in Dan's
voice.

'It just strikes me as strange that suddenly you can't
make all your deliveries and are desperately in need of my
help. Quite a coincidence that the very first thing I deliver
for you could land me in prison for assault or worse.'

'You can't think I set you up?' Dan said.

'All I know is I'm suddenly in a whole world of
trouble,' I replied. 'Well I'll tell you something for free,
Dan. If the police come knocking, I'm not going down
alone. I'm not.'

The silence between us stretched out like razor wire.

'You shouldn't make threats like that,' Dan
said slowly.

'It's not a threat. It's a promise,' I told him. 'I'm going
to finish school, go to university and get a decent job. My
plans for the future do not include a criminal record or
getting banged up for something I didn't do.'

'It won't come to that,' Dan insisted.

'Damn right it won't,' I raged. ''Cause I'm not taking the
fall for either you or McAuley. Not gonna happen.'

I disconnected the call without saying goodbye. The
inferno raging through me during the entire phone
conversation with Dan was rapidly burning itself out. And
what it left was worse. I shouldn't have said what I had. It
was a bluff, full of fury and frustration but a bluff nonetheless.
Because if push came to shove, I couldn't turn against
my friend – and he knew that. Which meant that if things
did blow up in my face, I'd be on my own. I should've
listened to my instincts – after all, that's why I had them.
But I'd stomped on them instead. I wouldn't make that
mistake again. But it was probably already too late.

I was in deep, deep trouble.

The doorbell rang and I shot up like a rocket. Was that
the police already? Maybe I could lie low and pretend no
one was in. But all the lights in the house were on. Damn
it. Physically shaking, I slowly made my way downstairs.
Taking a deep breath, I attempted, unsuccessfully, to calm
my nerves. I opened the door.

It was Callie. She took one look at me and burst
into tears.