Double Cross (26 page)

When my legs threatened to die under me from sitting on
the cold bathroom floor for so long, I managed to stand up
and half carry, half drag my sister to her bedroom. She was
totally lethargic. Laying her on the bed, I covered her with
the duvet. I sat down next to her and kept watch all
morning. The house was so quiet, it didn't feel right.
Jessica went from fitful sleep to long moments when she
didn't appear to be breathing at all. I had to keep getting
up to take her pulse or put my ear to her nose to feel her
breath against my skin. It was only around midday that she
finally started sleeping normally. I had to risk leaving her
alone so I could have a shower and tidy up before Mum
came home, but I popped into her room every few
minutes to check on her.

I vacuumed the whole house, tidied the kitchen and the
bathroom and scrubbed out the teapot. Mum only broke
out this particular teapot once or twice a year, but I didn't
fancy the idea of any of our elderly relatives getting high
or, more likely, poisoned. A teapot . . . Godsake! Just what
did my sister think she was doing? All I could do was hope
that Jessica hadn't peed the bed or puked or done anything
else that would be a dead giveaway. Whilst she was asleep,
I searched through my sister's wardrobe, then her chest of
drawers. In the right-hand corner of her bottom drawer,
at the back, were two more wrappers. I opened one up. It
contained a grey-brown lump, about the size of a chewy
mint. Even though I'd heard all about the stuff – and who
hadn't, living in Meadowview? – I'd never seen it up close
and personal like this before. I tried to remember all I
knew about this stuff, the different kinds manufactured
around the world. It was sticky, highly addictive,
extremely potent – that's about all that came to mind. The
wrapper shook in my hands. I searched around for more
paper wrappers in Jessica's bottom drawer, but there were
no more. Heading for the bathroom, I emptied the
contents of the two wrappers down the loo, dropping the
wrappers in after them. I flushed the toilet, but whilst the
contents disappeared, the wrappers didn't. It wasn't going
to be that easy. A second flush, and then a third, and the
waxy wrappers still wouldn't go down. They just floated
on top of the water. I ended up having to stick my hand
down into the toilet bowl to retrieve them before Mum
came home and saw them. I washed my hands over and
over for a good five minutes afterwards, but they still felt
dirty. I sat on the toilet lid for ages, just trying to think
straight.

I headed back to Jessica's room and sat at the foot of
her bed.

'Jessica,' I said softly, not wanting to scare her into
waking abruptly. 'Jess, wake up.'

My sister finally opened her eyes. For the first time in
hours her gaze was focused and she knew who I was. I had
my sister back. She sat up, then groaned, her hand flying
to her head.

'What time is it?' she whispered.

'It's just after one.'

Her gaze grew watchful. Silence.

'Are you going to tell Mum?' she asked at last.

'No,' I replied.

Jess breathed a sigh of relief. The smile she turned on
me was full of gratitude.

'But you are,' I told her.

Her smile vanished. She started to shake her head, but
quickly stopped. She closed her eyes like she was in pain.
'I can't.'

'Yes, you can, Jess. 'Cause if you don't tell her,
I will.'

'No, you mustn't. Please, Tobey.'

'I'm sorry, Jess. I'd keep quiet about most things, but
not this. You need to get help before it's too late.'

Jessica's eyes narrowed. 'Stop looking at me like that.
This is only the third time I've smoked the stuff,' she
snapped. 'I can handle it.'

'That's what they all say,' I replied. 'Godsake, Jess.
A teapot? Are you so desperate you had to use
Mum's teapot?'

'He said it would be easier than trying to inhale the
smoke off foil. He said the teapot would cool down
the smoke and I could inhale it when it came out the
spout.'

'Who's "he"?' I asked sharply.

Jessica turned away from me. 'I was just trying it,' she
said, trying to defend herself. 'I'm not an addict. Addicts
inject. I don't inject.'

'Smoking that crap leads to injecting, you know that.
This is non-negotiable, Jess. You've got to tell Mum
before it gets worse.'

'If you make me do this, I'll never forgive you.'

'That's up to you,' I replied. 'But I'm not going
through another morning like this one. Never again, Jess.'

'You didn't need to spy on me. I didn't ask you to. Just
sod off and mind your own business.' Jessica was getting
more and more angry.

'You're my sister, so you are my business,' I told her.
Ironic words, considering how much I resented them each
time Jessica said them to me. I headed for the door before
turning back, a frown biting into the corners of my
mouth.

'Why did you do it? Godsake, Jessica. You know what
that stuff does. Why put yourself through that?'

'You wouldn't understand.'

'Try me.'

Jessica shook her head. 'Just leave me alone.'

'Jess, how could you be so stupid?'

'That's right!' she screamed at me. 'I am stupid. Stupid
Jessica who can't do anything right. Stupid Jessica who
can't learn anything, can't be anything.'

I stared at her. 'Is this . . . is this about your hairdressing
course?'

'Don't be stupid,' Jess dismissed. 'No . . . hang on . . .
that's me, isn't it? I'm the brainless one in this family. I've
spent my entire life running to catch up with you, Tobey.'

'So all this is my fault?'

'This isn't about you. Not everything is about you.' Her
voice grew quieter. 'Tobey, just go away.'

I recognized that look on Jessica's face. She wasn't going
to say anything else – nothing I wanted to hear at any rate.
I headed for the door, but something else occurred to me.

'Jess, where did you get the gear from?'

'None of your business.' She lay down again, turning
away from me.

I walked over to her, placing my hand on her shoulder
and turning her round to face me. 'Who sold you that
stuff ?'

Jess sat up and glared at me. 'D'you really want me to
tell you?'

In that moment, I knew – but I had to hear her
say it.

Jess said one word, the one word I dreaded. 'Dan.'

Dan.

Icy fingers clutched at my stomach as I stared down
at my sister. If my so-called friend had been standing
in front of me right then and there, I'd've ripped his
head off with my bare hands. Jessica staggered to her
feet and headed for the bathroom. Moments later I
heard the sound of the shower running. At least she
was up and about now, making an effort before Mum
arrived. But for how long? And she was going to seriously
lose it when she discovered what I'd done to the rest of
her junk. I still had the bag of cocaine Adam Eisner had
given me, but that was hidden away where no one would
find it. I sure as hell wasn't going to use it, but I hadn't
thrown it away either. I had no such qualms about my
sister's stuff.

And as for Dan . . . he was going to pay.

Him and McAuley.

They profited by biting huge chunks out of all of us in
Meadowview. It was time for someone to bite back.

The following morning brought cooler weather, which
was welcome, and some unexpected visitors who were not
so welcome. Two guests, to be precise. DI Boothe and
Sergeant Kenwood. Like I didn't have more than enough
on my plate already. Mum wasn't too thrilled, to say the
very least. Not only did she get woken up early, but it was
the police. Mum was always warning me that she didn't
want the police knocking on our door for any reason.
At least the police car outside our front door was
unmarked. I was grateful for that, otherwise I would never
have heard the end of it. I don't know why they sent the
same two coppers who'd interviewed me at the hospital.
Maybe their bosses thought we'd established some kind of
a rapport!

'Would anyone like a cup of tea?' Mum asked, more
out of politeness than anything else.

'I'd love one, Miss Durbridge,' said Sergeant Kenwood.

'It's Mrs,' Mum bristled.

'Mrs Durbridge,' he corrected with a false smile.

'I'd love a cup too,' said the detective. 'Two sugars. If
you're sure you don't mind?'

'No trouble at all,' said Mum, her tone indicating
otherwise. 'Tobey?'

I shook my head. Mum headed off.

Sergeant Kenwood sauntered over to shut the door. All
my senses ratcheted up another gear, though I didn't turn
round to watch him directly. The cups of tea were obviously
a ploy to get my mum out of the room.

'We wondered if you'd had a chance to remember
anything else?' asked the detective.

I shook my head. 'I've told you everything I know.'

'But I don't believe you,' he said.

Well, that was hardly my problem, but from the look on
his face, the detective was about to change that.

'I think it would be best if—' He didn't get any further.

My sister Jess flung open the door and stalked into the
room.

'Is Tobey in trouble?' she asked straight out.

'And you are . . . ?' asked Sergeant Kenwood, breaking
out his notebook.

Jess walked over to him to stand at his side as he wrote.
'Tobey's sister, Jessica,' she said. 'That's J-e-s-s-i-c-a.' She
peered over the sergeant's arm to make sure he spelled her
name right. 'God, that's rubbish handwriting. Don't you
have to rely on what you've written when you go to
court? How can you even read that?'

And in spite of everything that had happened the
previous day, I don't think I've ever felt closer to my sister
than I did at that moment. I loved the way she refused to
let Sergeant Kenwood intimidate her. Jessica smiled at me.
It was uncertain, as was mine, but at least it was shared.
We had our moment of connection which had been
missing the day before.

'Paul, put your notebook away.' Detective Inspector
Boothe sighed.

The sergeant reluctantly did as he was told, by which
time Mum had come back in with two cups of tea. She
handed them to the officers before turning to my sister.

'Jessica, this doesn't concern you. Could you go to your
room, please?'

'Mum, don't send me to my room like I'm a child,'
Jessica argued.

'Then go to the kitchen, go into the garden, go and sit
on the roof if you want, but I don't want you in here,' said
Mum.

Jess and I knew that tone of voice. Mum only brought
it out a mere handful of times a year, so it was seldom
used, but very effective. Pouting like a trout, Jess flounced
out. Mum turned back to the coppers.

'Now then, is there a problem, officers?' she said,
getting straight to it.

'Mrs Durbridge, we'd like your son to come down to the
station to make a second formal statement,' said DI Boothe.

'Why does he need to do that?' asked Mum, clutching
her dressing gown even more tightly around her. 'He's
already told you everything he knows.'

'We need a new formal statement,' Sergeant Kenwood
reiterated. He turned to me, his blue eyes cold as a winter
sea. 'Tobey, you're the only witness we've got.
Apparently, you and Callie Hadley were the only ones in
the park at the time of the incident – apart from the
shooters of course. Amazing, that. Saturday afternoon and
only you and your girlfriend in the park. Who would've
thought it?'

Sarcastic git. He made it sound like his lack of witnesses
was my fault. But then wasn't I doing the same as
everyone else when it came to not telling the police what
had really happened?

'My son isn't going anywhere without me,' said Mum.

'Of course, Mrs Durbridge,' soothed the detective.

'If you could wait here please,' said Mum firmly. 'I have
to get dressed.'

Without waiting for their reply, she headed back
upstairs. No way was I going to stay in the living room
with the two coppers. I bolted, mumbling something
about getting my jacket. I went to my room and sat on my
bed, waiting until I heard Mum head downstairs again.
Formal statement, my eye. I wasn't going to say anything
that I hadn't already said, so why drag me and my mum all
the way down the police station? This was harassment. Or
intimidation. Or both. But if they thought they were
going to scare me into saying anything detrimental to my
health, they were very much mistaken.

When we reached the police station, Sergeant Kenwood
ushered me and Mum into an interview room and left us
there. I waited for the explosion from Mum, but she didn't
speak, not one word. In a way, that made it worse. I sat
there with the weight of her disappointment pressing down
hard upon me. We sat on one side of a table. Recording
equipment had been set into the adjacent wall. A CCTV
camera sat self-consciously in one corner of the room,
attached to the ceiling like some great black beetle.

After about ten minutes, DI Boothe entered the room
with some Cross woman I'd never seen before. She wore
a black trouser suit with a light-blue shirt and lace-up
black shoes with low heels. Her hair was cut ultra short
and neat. And though her face was expertly made up, she
was pretty average looking. If I'd passed her in the street,
I wouldn't've looked at her twice. She and DI Boothe sat
down and the woman pressed the record button before
even looking at me. Mum and I exchanged a look.

'Interview room three, twelfth of August, the time is
nine-fifteen a.m. Detective Chief Inspector Reid and
Detective Inspector Boothe in attendance, interviewing
Tobey Durbridge, aged seventeen. His mother Mrs Ann
Durbridge is also in attendance.'

DCI Reid faced me and I immediately revised my
opinion of her. The rest of her might've been nothing to
write home about, but her eyes were ruthlessly sharp and
shrewd and didn't miss anything.

'Tobey, could you tell me exactly what happened on
the afternoon of the tenth of July when Callie Rose
Hadley was shot.'

So once again, I told my story. And throughout the
whole retelling DCI Reid kept checking her watch. If I
didn't know any better, I'd've said she didn't have the
slightest interest in what I was saying. The moment my
statement was over and signed, DCI Reid thanked me
and announced to the recording that DI Boothe was
leaving the room. The detective stood up and did exactly
that. DCI Reid stopped the recording and we all sat in
silence. DCI Reid didn't take her eyes off me. Not once.
What was going on? Less than a minute later, Detective
Inspector Boothe was back. A quick nod of his head and
a thank you from the DCI and we were escorted from the
interview room.

The scratching claws in my stomach told me that something
wasn't right here. What was all this about? Why drag
Mum and me all the way down here to make a statement
they already had and obviously didn't want again? They
hadn't challenged me on anything I'd said. They hadn't
tried to make me change my story. There was none of the
usual stuff I'd seen on the TV.

So what was going on?

The claws in my stomach grew more vicious with each
passing second. This just didn't feel right. And then I saw
him coming towards me, flanked by two Cross coppers.

McAuley.

In handcuffs.

'I'm going to sue everyone here for wrongful arrest and
malicious prosecution.' McAuley's voice held quiet
menace as he spoke to one of the officers at his side. 'This
is harassment, pure and simple. I haven't done anything so
you have no right to arrest me.' He was so steaming mad,
I'm surprised the paint didn't blister on the walls. He saw
me and did a double take. Then he smiled slowly. One of
his all-knowing little smiles. Recognizing him, Mum gave
McAuley one of the filthiest looks she could muster, but
he only had eyes for me. As we passed each other in the
corridor, he didn't take his eyes off me, not for a second.

'Don't worry about the police, Tobey,' he said, low
enough so that only I could hear. 'Once I'm out, I'll take
care of you.'

My heart went into free fall.

I'd been set up.

'What did that animal say to you?' Mum asked angrily
once McAuley was out of earshot.

'Nothing, Mum.'

'Don't give me that,' she argued. 'He clearly said something.
You're as white as a white thing. Did he threaten
you?'

I shook my head. 'He just recognized me as Dan's
friend. That's all. Dan knows him.'

Mum didn't look entirely convinced, but she let it slide.
And as for me? A potent cocktail of fear and fury had me
shaking inside. All that crap about making a statement.
The police just wanted to have McAuley and me in the
same place at the same time to make McAuley think that
I'd been telling tales. And if the expression on McAuley's
face was anything to go by, it had worked.