Double Cross

by Malorie Blackman

  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.

  forty-six

  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 flounce
d 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.

  forty-seven

  When we got to the front desk, DI Boothe asked me, 'Are you ready to revise your statement now?'

  'No,' I snapped.

  DI Boothe took me to one side and lowered his voice as Mum signed the necessary paperwork at the desk. 'Tobey, we're the only ones who can protect you from McAuley. Tell us what really happened at the Wasteland. Be smart.'

  DI Boothe and his colleagues had thrown me into the lion's den and were now telling me they could shield me? Yeah, right.

  'I'll be fine,' I told him, knowing the words were a lie before they even left my mouth. I was a dead man walking.

  DI Boothe shook his head pityingly.

  'You want me to trust you? For all I know you could be the one working for the Dowds,' I said bitterly. 'Is that why you set me up? So McAuley can deal with me? Are you acting on Gideon Dowd's orders?'

  The detective stared at me, genuinely shocked. It quickly morphed into anger. 'Are you suggesting I'm on the take?'

  'It's well known that the Dowds own some high-up copper at this station – no doubt someone who warns them about forthcoming raids and sting operations and undercover cops and the like. That's why the Dowds are untouchable. And then you wonder why no one in Meadowview will talk to you?'

  DI Boothe was taking in everything I said like he'd never heard of such a thing before. He was either a great actor or he really had no idea there was at least one crooked copper, and probably more, on his patch.

  He looked around quickly. Mum was still at the reception desk and no one else was close enough to hear our hushed conversation.

  'Tobey, you can trust me,' said the detective. At my look of scepticism, he added, 'I know I would say that anyway, but it's the truth. All I want is to bring down Alex McAuley and the Dowds. We in Meadowview deserve better.'

  'We in Meadowview?' My eyebrows were raised as high as they could go.

  'Yes, we,' the detective emphasized. 'Because contrary to what you may think, I live here too. Tobey, talk to me. Tell me what you know.'

  'All I know is, McAuley thinks I've been in here, singing my head off, thanks to you. Strange that, don't you think? Gideon Dowd war
ns me to stay away from his sister and when I refuse, the next thing I know I'm dragged in here for McAuley to see. What a great way for Gideon Dowd to make sure McAuley does his dirty work for him. And now I'm supposed to trust you to protect me? You're a bent copper in Gideon Dowd's pocket and we both know it.'

  'I don't work for the Dowds or Alex McAuley,' DI Boothe denied vehemently. 'It wasn't even my idea to bring you in.'

  'Then whose idea was it? 'Cause that person is probably working for Gideon Dowd,' I said.

  Boothe didn't answer.

  I glared at him, saying scornfully, 'And I'm supposed to trust you?'

  'It's safer if you don't know who arranged to have you brought in. I'll look into it,' he said, his lips a determined slash across his face.

  'You do that,' I said with scepticism. 'Oh, and are you having me followed?'

  DI Boothe didn't reply.

  'Is that a yes?' I asked, knowing full well it was. 'May I ask why?'

  Boothe considered whether or not to answer my question.

  'We needed to know who you were covering for – the Dowds or McAuley. We were hoping to catch you in conversation with one or the other.' He smiled without any real humour. 'But you like to fly with the birds and swim with the fishes at the same time, don't you? As far as those following you could tell, you were working with both.'