Double Cross (22 page)

I spent the next couple of hours hopping on buses and
trains that took me all over Meadowview and beyond. A
lot of the time, I didn't even know where I was. But when
that happened, I just leaped on the nearest bus, getting off
at the first place I vaguely recognized. I kept telling myself
I was being ridiculous, I wasn't in some spy novel. But I
decided it would be better to waste a couple of hours
by being over-cautious than to be nabbed by the police
whilst carrying a parcel containing I-don't-know-what
inside.

I could just see it now – 'Honestly, officer, I didn't
know I was carrying two semiautomatic weapons . . .'

Yeah, right!

I took two trains into town and three back out again. I
scanned the faces of my fellow passengers for those that
were too familiar, those that I'd seen one too many times
today. Only when I was convinced that I was no longer
being watched or followed did I head for Adam Eisner's
flat. Even as I climbed the stairs of his estate building, I
couldn't help wondering what was inside the parcel I was
delivering. If anyone had asked me, I would've sworn that
my fingers were tingling just from touching it. It didn't
matter whether the tingling was real or merely my mind
playing tricks, I could still feel it. And it didn't feel right.
I rang the bell. The front door opened almost immediately.
Adam Eisner stood there, his black hair combed
back off his face, his dark-blue eyes shooting poison darts.

'Where the hell have you been?' he roared at me.

There was no other word for it. It was a definite roar. He
pulled me into his flat, slamming the front door behind me.

'I was expecting you over an hour ago,' he said, his face
mere centimetres from mine.

'I'm sorry I'm late, Mr Eisner, but when I collected
your parcel, I got the feeling someone was watching me,
so I travelled around until I was certain I was no longer
being followed,' I explained quickly.

Eisner backed off a bit, his expression wary. 'Who
would be following you?'

I shrugged. 'I have no idea. Probably no one. Like I
said, it was only a feeling, but I figured it was better to be
safe than banged up.'

Eisner headed for his front door and opened it. He
looked up and down the corridor outside his flat, before
crossing it to peer down at the ground below. He scanned
all around the block for a solid minute before returning to
his flat, closing the door quietly behind him.

'You should've phoned someone to tell them what you
were doing,' Eisner retorted.

Phoned who exactly? None of them were exactly on
my speed-dial list. I held out his parcel to him.

'Bring it into the kitchen,' Eisner ordered.

I inhaled sharply. I just wanted to get out of there. I had
an envelope which was burning through my jacket pocket
and scorching my flesh. And I still hadn't figured out how
I was going to pass it on to Vanessa Dowd.

I followed Eisner into the kitchen. Four Nought men
sat around a farmhouse-style table, all stark naked. A
number of small plastic bags covered the table, most
empty, some half-filled with white powder.

'Put the package on the table,' said Eisner.

I couldn't wait to get rid of it. I dropped it like the thing
was white-hot – which I now realized was exactly what it
was. A set of electronic scales sat in the middle of the table
along with a bigger bag of a dull-white powder. What was
in the bigger bag? Flour? Sugar? Powdered baby milk?
One of the men was weighing out exact amounts of the
merchandise before carefully pouring it into the small
bags, while the others were adding the same amount again
from the bigger bag. They were cutting drugs. That's why
they were all sitting around naked – it cut down the
number of places they could hide the stuff for themselves.

Eisner picked up a small knife and cut a slit down the
brown parcel like he was a surgeon making the first incision.
White powder gently spilled out on either side of the
cut. My heart was beating hard and heavy. Eisner turned
to smile at me.

'I see McAuley was right about you. You have a smart
head on your shoulders.' Eisner picked up one of the tiny
bags filled with white powder which hadn't yet been
added to and held it out to me. 'Take that for your trouble.'

I shook my head. Cocaine? No way.

'Take it,' said Eisner. 'You won't find better blow
anywhere in Meadowview.'

I took the bag and stuffed it into my trouser pocket.

'I have more deliveries to make.' Was that really my
voice playing back at me, so low and so calm? It had to be.

Eisner nodded and led the way out of his flat. I walked
along the corridor towards the stairs, knowing that Eisner
was watching every step. I headed away from his block and
just kept going. Everything inside me was still, like my heart
and my head and my very soul were all holding their breath.

As I turned some anonymous corner, a couple of bins
came into view outside some local shops. I strode up to
the nearest one and pulled the plastic bag out of my
pocket, careful to keep the contents hidden in my hand. I
stretched out my arm, my hand poised over the bin.

Let it go,Tobey. Before it's too late. Let it go.

But I couldn't. I just couldn't.

Hello, Callie. How are you feeling today? You look a little
better. Your face isn't quite so ashen. They tried to suck
the life out of you, didn't they? But you're strong, Callie
Rose. Stronger than even you think. So hang in there.
You don't have to wake up today or tomorrow or even
this week. You'll come round in your own good time.

But you will come round.

And when you wake up, I want to be the first face you
see. That's why I visit you every day, even if it's only for
a few minutes. When you awake you'll see me smiling at
you and nothing else will matter. My guess is that you've
been through so much over the last few months that it all
finally caught up with you and you're just dealing with it
in your own way. Your mind is . . . resting, recharging.
I'm not worried about you being in this place. I'm not
worried about the fact that you haven't regained
consciousness yet.

I think . . . I feel you're waiting for me. So don't wake
up yet. I haven't finished what I need to do. Just sleep –
and wait for me.

I had to see you today, Callie. I had to take that chance.
You're the only one I can talk to. My pockets are full,
Callie – and they're weighing me down so much I can
hardly stand upright. I've got one jacket pocket filled with
money. Blood money. Another pocket contains a letter
that I'm afraid to deliver. And in my trouser pocket there's
. . . there's . . . something that clings to my hand like
superglue and no matter how hard I try, I can't shake it off
my fingers, I can't get rid of it.

I'm scared, Callie.

There! I've admitted it. Just between you and me, I'm
bloody terrified. But one thing keeps me going – you.

Just you.

Only you.

I'll hang onto that and do what I have to do. Whatever
it takes, eh, babe?

So how am I doing? Well, the weekend was kinda
strange. I met a girl. Her name is Rebecca, Rebecca
Dowd. She's Vanessa Dowd's daughter. Yes, the Vanessa
Dowd. I had to work on Sunday at TFTM. It was
Rebecca's eighteenth birthday party. Private function. I
got triple time plus tips so I made a whole heap of money.
A few more weeks of this and I'll be able to buy you the
birthday present I've been promising you for ages.
Anyway, Rebecca gave me a lift home and we chatted and
had a good laugh all the way back to my house. I think she
likes me. I surprised her and that's a good thing. I don't
know what she was expecting, but I kept up with her
conversation and I even managed to tell her one or two
things that she didn't know. And when she found out I
was going to Heathcroft High . . . ? You should've seen
the looks she kept giving me after that. My mum was right
– that school is like a passport.

When we arrived outside my house, we sat in her car
for almost an hour, just talking. Reading between the
lines, it sounds like she thinks most guys are more interested
in getting to know her family's money than her. Of
course I didn't ask for her phone number or for a date or
anything. I think that surprised her too. I have to admit,
though, Rebecca was all right. I think you'd like her. But
enough of her. Besides, I'll probably never see her again.

Callie, I'll come and see you as often as I can. It's tricky
because I can't let anyone know that I'm here. And I sure
as hell can't let your Aunt Minerva, or worse still, your
mum, find me here. Your mum is waiting for me to man
up and tell the police what I know. And with every day
that passes with my silence, I know she despises me more.
But this is something I have to sort out for myself.

I'm going to make McAuley pay for what he did to
you.

I'll get him.

Or die trying.

The trouble is, I can't do it without help – Owen
Dowd's help. He's the only one with the money and the
resources and the will to help me. I just wish I could get
over this feeling that I'm crawling into bed with the devil
to catch a demon. Crawling into bed metaphorically
speaking, of course. I tell myself that it's the end result that
counts, nothing else. Oh, I know what the end result
needs to be,
has
to be. But it's the getting there that's
tricky. Isn't it always? I have a vague plan and the will to
succeed, but that's it. It will have to be enough. Trouble
is, I feel like I'm stumbling through some improvised
dance that I'm kinda making up as I go along. But that's
OK, I'll survive. I hope.

Y-you have to live, you know that, don't you, Callie? I
don't know what I'd do without you. I've . . . cared about
you for so long, I don't know how to do anything else. I
wouldn't tell this to anyone but you. Hell! I wouldn't
even tell you if you were conscious enough to hear it and
play it back to me.

But I do . . . care about you. Very much.

You force my heart to beat.

So don't ever scare me like that again.

When you got shot, it was as if . . . as if the bullet that
got you had escaped your body to hit me right between
the eyes. I survived, though, because you did. But when
your heart stopped . . . When that happened, all hope
inside me started to wind down like a broken toy. I guess
everyone has their Achilles heel. Why should I be any
different?

Hang in there, Callie. Remember, it's you and me
against the world. I'll deal with McAuley, and when you
wake up we'll go away together. Somewhere far away
where Jude McGregor will never find us. You just sleep,
Callie Rose. Sleep until it's all over. And don't fret about
what happened to you. Trust me, Callie. I'm taking care
of that. Whatever it takes.

And if it doesn't work, if I get jammed up, just know
that it was worth it.

You were worth it.

Vanessa,

I'm sure the last thing either of us wants or needs is a
resumption of hostilities. The last turf war between us created
casualties on both sides. But I will take out you and yours if
your family try to muscle in on my patch.You need to rein in
your sons. Once I have ALL my territory back, your manager
will, I'm sure, find his way home.

And not before.

M.