Double Take (10 page)

At what point in a man's life does he grow up
, Jack wondered. Because in Jimmy's case, age seemed to have nothing to do with it.

“Unfortunately,” Stubbs said. “It's bloody hard work.”

Jack's thoughts rolled to their father. According to his mum, their dad had been a hard worker. But his addiction to gambling ruined everything. He accumulated debts that he could no longer hide. Jumping in front of a train was his idea of a solution. Not for Jack, Jimmy and their mother, though. Now that Jack had sold his own beloved home because of increasing debt problems, he hated his father even more. There was no excuse for abandoning your family. Sometimes he'd think about how different their life would've been if the bastard hadn't jumped. But it was a pointless debate. Nothing could change the past, but since his mother had met a new man she seemed to be looking forward to the future.

Rachel's arrival had them ogling in her direction. She took it all in her stride, as if it were an everyday occurrence. It probably was. The dress she was wearing looked like it was tailor-made. It hugged all the curves and the split in the skirt went all the way up. When she walked her left leg broke free of the fabric, flashing flesh from her ankle to her thigh. And what a perfect leg it was: perfect skin colour, perfect toning, perfectly long. For the life of him Jack couldn't remember Rachel ever having such long legs.

She joined them at the table. Jack opened both pizza boxes and everyone bar Rachel reached for a slice. She sipped on a bottle of water she'd tugged from her handbag. Jack was having trouble taking his eyes off her. He'd always thought she was beautiful. As a fifteen-year-old she was quite shy and, as he recalled, they'd all thought she was a little weird as well. But now her beauty was matched by a confidence that commanded attention.

“Where's the beer, Jimmy?” asked Donny.

“What beer? Why'd I have to get the beer too? I got the pizzas.” He was on the verge of embarrassing himself before he realised Donny was toying with him. Jimmy was still a hothead. It was no wonder he'd lived a life surrounded by trouble. When Jack was in juvenile detention Jimmy had been pretty much left to his own devices. He dropped out of school and mixed with the wrong crowds. And he'd been on and off the alcohol wagon so often, Jack had stopped counting. None of that mattered, though. Jack loved his brother. Jimmy wasn't very bright, but Jack didn't need intelligence right now, he needed loyalty and without a doubt he had it with Jimmy.

“Hey, do you guys remember the time we wagged school and went swimming at that quarry?” Donny said.

Stubbs huffed and took another bite of pizza. “That was a great day.”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “Till we got caught trying to catch the bus home while we were still wet.” Even in early high school they flirted with trouble.

Back then, Jack and his friends—three of whom were sitting at the table with him today—would hang out most Friday nights at the local shopping arcade. A couple of nights each week, Rachel showed up. She mostly hung back in the shadows, didn't say a word. She was always dressed in fancy clothes and even from a distance Jack could smell her perfume. Sometimes she'd buy them dinner, but never McDonald's or Hungry Jack's. It was fancy stuff like Chinese. Rachel had introduced him to Pad Thai noodles, still one of Jack's favourite meals today. Gradually she became a part of their little gang.

Did she still feel obligated to stand by that promise she'd made at the gates of the detention centre all those years ago? Or was she worried that he'd reveal what her father did? Jack wondered if anyone else knew about that tragic part of her life and the tapes she'd made.

He watched her take another sip from her bottle and knew in that instant the composed, confident woman he was looking at must be a bundle of emotional torment on the inside.

“Man, I gotta piss.” Pete pushed back on his chair. “Jeez, Jack, why'd ya pick this place? It doesn't even have a dunny.” His chair scraped across the wooden floor as he pushed it back.

“What are you talking about? It's perfect.”

“'Cept there's no dunny.”

“Go downstairs.” Jack pointed out the open back door. “And don't take too long, we need to get started.”

As Pete ducked his head to go out the door, Jimmy turned to Jack. “Why
did
you pick this place?”

“Don't you remember it? We used to play here when we were kids.”

Jimmy clicked his fingers. “I knew it was familiar. We had that rope swing into the creek, too. Oh shit.” Jimmy laughed. “Do you remember that time we tried to swing out together and the bloody rope broke?”

Jack laughed too. “Oh yeah. Didn't you lose a tooth?”

“Jesus, Jack,” Rachel interrupted. “I hate to break up this walk down memory lane, but can we get started please? I have a dinner date with Walter tonight.”

So that's why she's so dressed up.
Jack stamped his foot on the floorboards. The sound shattered the silence. “Come on, Pete!”

Pete appeared at the door, tossing something up and down in his hand. “Keep your shirt on, mate.” He slid the item onto the table and it skidded to Jack's hand. “Found that downstairs.”

“A Matchbox car. Haven't seen one of these in years.” Jack wiped the dirt off the bonnet with his thumb. “Huh, I wonder if this is—”

“Come on, guys!” Rachel raised her voice now. “I need to be there by seven.”

Jack glanced at his watch. They had an hour or so. He pushed the Matchbox car into his jeans pocket, stepped back from the table and leant on the back of his chair. “Pete, how are you going with the cars and escape route?”

Pete sniffed, leant forward and placed his thick tattooed forearms on the table. “There are two cars I've got my eye on. Nothing fancy, just a couple of Holden Astra sedans, dark blue in colour. They're always parked at the Coorparoo train station where they stay all day. No-one'll notice 'em missing till around six, and by then we'll have already returned 'em. The escape routes are piss easy too. One goes over the Story Bridge and the other is via the freeway. The freeway would be the quicker of the two, and my preference. But I'll do a test run that morning and see what's going on.”

“Excellent.” Jack was impressed. His fears about Pete being the wildcard now seemed completely unfounded. “Stubbs, what have you got?”

Stubbs reached into his back pocket and removed a tattered piece of paper. “I need some cash for a few things like carry bags for the money, gloves and balaclavas for us and spray paint for the cameras. I know where to buy it all, but it'll cost about a hundred or so to do it.” Stubbs sounded apologetic when he asked for the money.

“No worries, I'll get the money to you later.” Jack had managed to scrape together just under $800 for expenses. It wouldn't be enough. He still had no idea how much Rachel had paid for those guns. But he'd make sure she received every cent back. Jack always repaid his debts and he wasn't about to stop now. “Donny?”

Donny ran his hand over his slicked hair. “I did a drive by the bank,” he replied. “Where are we going to park the cars while you're in the bank? There's not even a loading zone around there that I could see.”

“I know. Pete will park halfway up the driveway, hopefully no-one will come along in that time. Donny, you'll have to park at this loading zone down Queen Street, outside the Westpac Bank.” Jack pointed at the map. “That means crossing the road after the robbery. So you'll have to be nice and calm when you do it, so you don't arouse suspicion.” He glanced up and Rachel shrugged.

“Also that intersection of Queen, Eagle and Wharf Streets is really busy,” Donny said. “What's it going to be like on Melbourne Cup day?”

“Brisbane is like a ghost town,” Jack said. “Hardly anyone goes to work and just about everyone will be at the pub, a party or out at the track.”

“That's true,” Rachel said. “Walter's firm always holds a huge party but I usually fly to Melbourne to be at the race.” She glanced at Jack. “I guess it's fortunate I wasn't this year. I'll have to make up some excuse for not going to his function, though.”

“I hope you're right about the ghost town thing,” Pete said.

“I am. I can usually double my deliveries that day because I'm not stuck in traffic.”

There was one thing they hadn't discussed yet. He had wanted to be certain they were all fully committed. Now was the time. “So let's get something straight. Once we have the cash in the bags I'll be the only one carrying them.”

“Why you?” Pete sniffed and eased back on his chair.

“Because this is my plan. If anyone's going to get caught with the stolen money it will be me. I started this, so it's my arse on the line.”

“How'd we know you're not gonna piss off with it?”

“Because I'm not going anywhere. You know I need the cash for Candy's operation.”

“This is bullshit, I ain't—”

“Shut up, Pete!” Stubbs slammed his palm onto the table and held Pete's glare. “I'd trust Jack with my life. If you don't like the plan then get out now.”

Pete stared at him, sniffed, and then turned to Jack. “Okay, but I'm driving your car, Jack.”

Jack nodded. “If that's what it takes.”

Pete eased his chair back onto four legs and shoved his fists back under his biceps.

Satisfied the matter was settled, Jack continued. “Afterwards we meet back here to divide up the cash together.”

“Six ways.” Pete sniffed again.

“Six ways,” Jack agreed and Pete nodded.

Jack leant forward. “Once it's done we go our separate ways. I don't think we should meet again.” He looked around the table at Rachel, Stubbs, Donny and Pete. “There's a good chance we won't see each other again. Except for you, Jimmy. I guess we'll catch up sometime.”

Pete cracked his neck from side to side and the scars on his chin reddened. As he tilted his head back Jack noticed the extent of the burns down his neck and realised just how horrific the car crash injuries were. He couldn't bend his elbows properly either. His arms were never completely bent and never completely straight. But with most of the scars covered in tattoos, it was only when he moved his arms that Jack even remembered them. The pain must've been excruciating.

“But the old gang only just got back together.” Jimmy still had a childish whine about him sometimes.

“It makes sense, Jimmy,” Rachel said. “After the robbery they'll be looking for a woman and five men. One who only has eight fingers and one who's covered in tattoos. Put the six of us together and we might as well put the handcuffs on ourselves.”

Jimmy jutted his chin out and his mouth did a little curl at one side. It was one of those quirky things Jack had forgotten about his brother. His shoulders sagged but he nodded anyway.

“One more thing,” Jack said. “No partying between now and the job. I can't have any of you getting drunk and talking about it.”

They all nodded, surprising Jack. He thought he'd have a battle on his hands with that one. Maybe they finally accepted he was in charge.

But then Rachel cleared her throat. “I have a couple of those silly charity things to go to. I'm sure I won't drink too much.”

“You're okay, Rachel. It's not you I'm worried about.”

“Fuckin' hell, why's she—”

“Shut up, Jimmy. Now, we only have nine days to go. Let's meet here again next Sunday and go over the finer details.”

Jimmy stood up and then shoved his chair into the table.

Stubbs stood and put his arm over Jimmy's shoulder. “Come on, mate. I'll take you to the pub for a lemonade.” Stubbs winked at Jack as he said it.

Jack decided to let it go. He was certain that together the two of them could be trusted.

After they all left, he shut the back door and slid the rusted bolt into place. He picked up his hand-drawn map of the bank that had taken hours to draw. He folded it in half, then half again and tore it into tiny little pieces and shared it between the pizza boxes. His plan was to put each box into a different rubbish bin. He then gathered them up and walked out the front door. As he locked his new padlock on the door latch, he pondered the foolishness of it. If someone wanted to break in, it wouldn't be hard to knock down the ancient door. Nevertheless, he still double-checked that it was locked before he walked away.

* * *

Murray stopped the tape and rolled onto his back. Trent watched his dad's Adam's apple move up and down as he swallowed. He reached for the water bottle and handed it to his father who quickly gulped a couple of huge mouthfuls.

“That was cool, hey.” Trent leant over now, his face just a few centimetres from his father's.

“No. It wasn't cool at all.” Murray let out a breath. “When that guy came downstairs I thought we were done.”

“But I told you they can't see us under here.”

“That's when they're coming from the front, but from the back, all it would've taken was for him to look in our direction. Especially when that guy said they used to play under here. And then he found the Matchbox car.” He exhaled in a big gush. “God knows what would've happened had he seen us.”

“But he didn't. And now we have so much more on tape. And you took that photo.”

“Come on, let's get out of here.” Murray began to crawl backwards.

When they neared the racing track he asked, “Was that Matchbox car one of yours?”

Trent shrugged. “It could've been. We used to bring them before we got the remote control cars at Christmas.”

“Jesus, how long have you been coming here?”

“For ages,” Max said as he stood up. “We sometimes go down to the creek too.”

Dad groaned.

Trent couldn't believe Max told him that. Now the creek would be off limits as well. But right now all he could do was glare at his stupid brother.