Double Take (21 page)

Gemma turned back to the money. She unzipped the other two bags and tipped their contents onto the bed as well. Money of all denominations tumbled out. A bundle of one hundred dollar notes fell at her knee. She gathered it up and flicked her fingers through it. “We never have to worry about money ever again, babe. Help me count it.”

She began sorting the money into denominations but still Murray hadn't moved. “What's wrong?”

“I can't believe you did this.”

“What do you mean? Now we can have whatever we want. The boys too.”

Ignoring his dour look, she began to count. But soon she couldn't stand his stillness anymore. “Honey, what's wrong.”

“You robbed a bank?”

“No. Not the bank, silly. The
robbers
. You should have seen me, Murray. I was brilliant.”

He drove his hands through his hair. “Shit, Gemma. This is really bad.”

“No it's not. It's wonderful.” She tossed more money in the air. “Now we can go on all the holidays we want.”

“Gemma, do you realise what you've done?”

“We did it together, honey.” She giggled. “I just did the end bit.”

He flung his arms wide. “What are you talking about?”

“You helped me with the photos and the tape recording. Remember? I gave them to the police, just like you asked. But don't worry, my plan was foolproof. Just imagine, right now those guys are probably sitting in a cell accusing each other of stealing the money. No-one will believe them.”

“
We
didn't plan this. I had no idea.”

She slipped off the bed, walked across to him and draped her arms over his shoulders. “Yes you did, honey. But it doesn't matter who did what. I was happy to do the hard bit for you. For us.” She grinned up at him.

“We're going to jail for this.”

She cupped his cheeks and pulled him down so she could kiss him. “No we won't. I was very careful. Now please be a honey and bring up that bottle of champagne.”

Gemma eased back onto the bed, careful not to disturb the piles of money, and resumed counting. At one point, as she moved from the one hundred dollar notes to the fifties, she glanced up, but Murray had gone. She hadn't heard him leave. She just hoped he'd bring her champagne soon. All this counting was making her thirsty.

When she had finished, she sat back on her haunches and stared at the stacks of notes. It was much less than she'd expected, but still so much money. Murray still hadn't returned, but she was beyond caring. She shoved the money back into the bags, deciding to spread the denominations amongst the three bags. That way, no one bag had more value than another. It seemed like the smart thing to do.

She went into the bathroom, ran the bath and poured an entire miniature bottle of bubble bath in. She left the tap running and went downstairs. Murray was sitting in the lounge, hands resting on his knees, and staring at the photo above the television. Gemma wondered if he'd been staring at Hazel the whole time. When he finally looked over at her, the loathing on his face made her realise she'd made a terrible mistake. And then she knew: Murray was still in love with his wife. He could never fall for her the way he had for Hazel.

She turned on her heel, walked to the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of champagne and a glass. When she returned upstairs, the water was nearing the top of the tub.

Standing naked now, she filled her glass, placed it and the bottle on the shelf at the back of the bath and laid a bath mat on the floor. She slipped into the water, leant back and reached for her champagne.

And then she began to cry. Not just a little bit either—she truly sobbed. Tears streamed down her cheeks and as she sucked in shaky breaths she realised that she'd been a complete fool. Did Murray love her at all? She had pictured them spending the rest of their lives together, and with this money, what a wonderful life it would be! She punched her fist onto her knee until a red lump formed.

But she still loved him. She bit down on her teeth until her chin stopped trembling. Maybe they could buy a new house. Leave Hazel behind. Yes, that made sense. Find somewhere with their own garden for the boys to run around in. She wiped away her tears and took a huge breath. Then she sculled her champagne.

Suddenly she was exhausted. She closed her eyes and tried to relax.

A short time later she heard breathing. She opened her eyes to see Murray standing in the doorway, just staring at her. As she waited for him to speak, she convinced herself to snap out of the gloom and doom. Today had been amazing. She'd proven that with planning and determination she could do anything. And she didn't need a man to help her. Maybe, now that she had money, she would be better on her own anyway. She lifted her leg and poked her big toe into the faucet. But he just stood there, silently staring.

Finally he spoke. “What are you going to do now?”

She smiled up at him. “Whatever we want. With that much money, the world's our oyster.”

“How much?”

So he does want to know
. “Friggin' $716,000.” She screamed it like she'd seen the winners do on
Wheel of Fortune
. “I told you it was worth it.”

“Keep it down, Gemma. Someone may hear you.”

“Don't be silly. No-one can hear us.”

“I'm just saying that you need to be careful.”

“Jesus, Murray, how long are you going to carry on like this? I've been careful. We're perfectly safe.” She glared at him, and when she raised her leg again she saw a line where her pale skin had turned pink from the hot water.

“I can't help it. I keep expecting the police to storm in and arrest us.”

“Oh, for God's sake, you're ruining my moment of glory. Go watch television or something, will you?” Gemma reached for the champagne bottle and topped up her glass again.

When she glanced at the doorway, Murray had gone.

C
andice was checking the clock almost every minute. It wasn't like Jack to be late. Ever since she'd been diagnosed he'd made a point of being home before dark. In fact, she couldn't remember the last time he had been late. Today, though, the sun had set several hours ago and still no sign of him.

If she'd had the strength to pace she would have worn a track in the lino floor. If she could have phoned him, she would have. But he didn't have an office where he sat at a desk all day. He moved around. No two days were the same. And she had no idea which part of the city he was working in today. If she had a car she would've gone out looking for him, despite being under doctor's orders not to drive.

She'd rung all her friends, trying not to sound anxious and feeling terrible when she cut the calls short, but none of them had seen Jack today. The only thing she could do was sit and wait and try not to get stressed out. Maybe he had a flat tyre. Or had broken down somewhere. That wouldn't surprise her. The ute was second-hand when he'd bought it. Luckily Jimmy was a fairly decent mechanic. If only he had stayed with his mechanic job, rather than the other stuff he got messed up in. Candice eased a little at the thought of Jack being with his brother. She hadn't seen Jimmy for years. Jack wouldn't let her join him when he visited his brother in jail. He'd said it wasn't any place for a lady. Especially a sick one.

She turned on the television. It crackled to life and she sat back to watch the late news. She gripped the table at the reporter's opening comment about a serious car accident on the Story Bridge in which two people had died. Easing forward on the seat, she studied the carnage on the screen.
“Police are still trying to piece together how the truck came to be on its side.”

She saw the truck now, and then she saw the other car. It was red. Immediate relief flooded through her. Guilt struck her just as fast. She suddenly felt terrible for the people who had lost their lives in that crash. She knew only too well how precious life was.

Maybe Jack was just caught in the banked-up traffic. She checked the clock again. Nearly ten past eight. The footage on the television had been filmed during daylight. Surely the roads wouldn't have taken that long to clear?

“We'll take a short break now and return in a moment with today's extraordinary headlines.”
The television flicked to an annoyingly loud advertisement selling appliances Candice could only dream about. She stood up to turn the volume down and used the opportunity to fill her water glass.

When the news came back on, she turned it up and eased back onto the bench seat. But what she saw on the television made her gasp. It was Jack. His hands were behind his back and a balding man in a police uniform was leading him up the front steps of the Brisbane courthouse. Jack's face was ashen. His eyes were darting about, fearful and confused, and he seemed to have sunk into his own body. Reporters were thrusting microphones into his face. Candice fought for a breath. The room began to swim. Words tumbled from the television in a jumbled cacophony.

“
Robbery…gang…missing money
.”

She reached for her personal alarm, but as she followed the line with her fingers, her world twisted and her vision wobbled. She tumbled off the chair, gasping as a searing pain shot to her forehead.

The last thing she saw was a dead fly beneath the fridge. Then everything went black.

T
he great thug of a police officer glared at Jack as he led him into the courtroom. Clearly he was not a man to mess with, not that he would even consider it. At the moment his legs were struggling just to hold him up. The walk to the dock for his sentencing was one of the most degrading things he'd ever done. There was a crowd. He knew they were watching him. He felt their hate.

He kept his head down. The heavy leg chains cut into his ankles as he walked. When he stepped up to the dock he swallowed a lump in his throat that was as hard as a wrecking ball. He directed his gaze over his shoulder, forcing himself to look at the ageing judge. The judge's eyebrows were a mass of wiry hairs that scrambled in all directions and his small half-glasses threatened to fall off the very tip of his aquiline nose. Two months in this courtroom and this was the first time Jack had really studied him. If he hadn't been in such a horrible space right now, he might have found his appearance almost comical.

As they had done every day since the beginning of the trial, his eyes soon swept to the people in the crowd. It was horrible to see people he knew; his friends glared at him, as did his neighbours. But the police officer who arrested him, Montgomery Steel, had a strange, almost gloating, look on his face. Jack's chin dimpled as he looked into the eyes of Pearl and Ian, the bank manager. Jack was horrified at how much he'd hurt them. Hearing their testimonies had been gut-wrenching.

His breath suddenly caught in his throat. Three rows back from the front sat Candice. Her tiny body was almost consumed by the high-backed wooden court chair she sat in. He wondered how she got here, and his question was answered when the man beside her handed her a tissue. It was her brother. He was pleased Michael had taken the time off to be with Candice. She needed him right now.

Jack hadn't heard a word the judge had spoken, but when Candice suddenly burst into tears he jolted back to the present.

“—sentenced to nine years' jail.” The judge finished what he was saying and the noise of his gavel echoed in Jack's ears as it crashed down in conclusion of the sentencing.

The room came alive and Jack became acutely aware of everything. It seemed that almost every person in the courthouse was now standing up and yelling at him.

“Where did you hide it, Jack?”

“What's your plan with the money?”

“Someone will find it while you're locked up. What do you say about that?”

But he blocked them out as he sought out Candice in the crowd. He only saw quick glimpses of her amongst the bustling throng. She had remained seated, hunched over, a tissue across her nose and mouth. He battled with the shackles to get down from the dock. As he was led along the front of the courtroom, he turned to look over his shoulder and their eyes met.

“I'm sorry, Candice. I'm so sorry.” He mouthed the words, fully aware that she couldn't have heard him over the angry mob even if she had wanted to.

Michael grabbed her shoulders to turn her away.

“Look after her, Michael. She needs you now.” That he screamed and at first he thought Michael hadn't heard it. But when Michael turned, the look on his face was one of pure hatred.

The guard guided him to the swinging wooden doors and as they passed through, he was certain he could hear Candice sobbing.

M
ontgomery Steel wasn't surprised by the verdict, or the sentence. As he watched Jack shuffle from the dock he saw him turn to someone in the crowd. By the tangle of emotions on his face Steel knew it would be Jack's wife. She was the reason he'd done it. There was no doubt of Jack's guilt, or that of the other five offenders. Each of them had played an active part in the robbery and their sentencing had been based on their involvement in the crime.

Rachel was given the heftiest sentence: ten years. That's what you get for threatening people with guns, even if they were fake. The jury couldn't see what Rachel had done, on account of the paint all over the camera lens, but the security cameras' sound recording still worked fine. And there was no mistaking her voice threatening the bank staff. So even with the most expensive legal team, there was nothing they could do to save her.

The trial was incredibly brief; ample evidence did that.

A pretty blonde woman in the row in front of Steel turned to him. When she smiled he knew what was coming.

“Would you like to comment on the missing money, Superintendent Steel?”

“Bugger off.” Steel smiled back at her. His life and career had been in turmoil since the robbery and he was sick of the never-ending accusations from the media about the missing funds. The smile fell from her face and she turned back to the front of the courtroom.