by Philip Cox
He stood on tiptoe, trying to look over the brick wall. He could see nothing, nor hear anything. The sound he had heard was a crashing noise. He had assumed it was caused by something being knocked over while being used by somebody climbing. Maybe somebody from the café was putting out the trash or moving a beer barrel. Whatever it was, there was no sight or sound now.
He slowly backed away from the wall, losing his footing on his third step. He fell backwards, half landing on the lawn, and half landing on the bicycle Louise had left lying in the yard. Instinctively, he put his arm out to break the fall, but also instinctively he kept grasping the kitchen knife: the result of all this was that he landed awkwardly, snagging his wrist on the bicycle chain. He swore loudly, and staggered to his feet. Holding the knife in the other hand and manipulating his wrist, he went back indoors, locking and bolting the door.
‘Goddamn bike,’ he said aloud as he washed the blood off of his cut wrist. ‘Why can’t they put anything away?’ He replaced the knife in its slot and quietly went upstairs.
His and Chrissy’s bedroom faced the front of the house, looking onto Charles Street; Louise’s was the same. Jake’s room and the bathroom faced to the back. Will slowly opened his son’s room and crept in, expecting Jake to be asleep.
‘Hey man, what’s going on?’ Jake asked from under his quilt. He was in bed, but was playing something on his phone.
‘Sorry,’ Will whispered. ‘I thought you’d be asleep. I just needed to look out of the window. What are you doing anyway? It’s late and you have school tomorrow. Have you done your homework, by the way?’
‘No assignments today, man.’ Jake returned to his phone.
‘Are you sure about that? I don’t want to get another letter at the end of the week from the Principal.’
‘It’s cool. It’s cool.’
Will was not convinced, but 11:25pm was not the time to get into a deep discussion about homework assignments. ‘What are you doing, anyway?’
‘Just chatting.’
‘Chatting? To who at this time of night.’
‘Only Clyde.’
Will put his hand out. ‘Show me.’
Jake turned the phone round so Will could not see the screen. ‘Private stuff, dude. Private stuff.’
‘Enough private stuff already, or I’ll confiscate the phone. And all this crap here.’ Will pointed to the desk full of screens and wires and consuls. ‘And it’s Dad, not dude. Clear? Now: switch the phone off. Now.’
Jake muttered something Will could not understand and switched off the phone.
‘Good. Now, off to sleep. Early start tomorrow, you know that.’
Jake grunted and turned on his side, pummelling the pillow into shape. Will stepped over to the window, moved the curtain to one side and peered out. The back yard was still illuminated by the light, and a light was on at the back of the café on Perry. He could see a rear door, which was probably a fire exit. Two figures, a short, older man, and a girl were standing by the door, under the light, talking and smoking. Will cleared his throat softly: he could not imagine those two scaling his wall. He took one more look around and turned away from the window. Jake seemed to be asleep; or at least, was pretending to be asleep.
‘Night,’ Will said quietly. ‘And keep that phone off. Remember where the router is: I can easily disconnect the internet from downstairs. And I know you have no roaming credit left.’ He didn’t but it was an accurate guess.
Jake began to snore.
‘Yeah, right,’ Will muttered and left his son’s room. Back downstairs, he took one more look into the back yard before switching off the light.
Then switching it back on.
‘Shit,’ he griped. He was getting jumpy for no reason. It was just somebody working at the café. Is this what happens to anybody who experiences a break-in? ‘Get a damn grip,’ he said aloud.
His thoughts turned back to his son as he glanced up to the ceiling, the ceiling under which Jake was in bed. Chrissy had a point: neither of them had any idea what he was getting up to, in his room with the door shut. It was always computer related. Will would have been happy if he was just jacking off to some internet porn: didn’t all teenager boys do that? The web was just a digital version of the grubby magazines he used to smuggle indoors. He was thirteen; fourteen in the New Year: Will was almost hoping they would find him in there with a girl one day: at least that would be normal. Well, normal in Will’s eyes. But at the moment, who was he conversing with online? Was it Dan’s boy Clyde or other kids from school as he always made out it was, or was it some sixty year old scumbag sitting in stained boxers in a darkened room somewhere pretending to be a thirteen year old boy. Or a nine year old girl. Will shivered. Maybe he should talk to Dan; see how he and Jia were handling Clyde.
Will yawned. It was getting very late, and they all had early starts in the morning. The laptop had gone to sleep, so he stabbed at a key and the photograph of Carmine DiMucci reappeared. Paterson wasn’t that far. He could take two or three hours off tomorrow; after all, Dan Gleave had done it yesterday.
Will shut down the laptop, double checked all the doors and windows, and went up to bed. He had the feeling the next day was going to be a very long one.
SIXTEEN
Undecided as to whether to tell Chrissy about his planned trip to Paterson, Will eventually took the decision to err on the side of caution and not tell her. As far as the office were concerned, he had to make a trip to Jersey to speak with a potential client, and this was the line he would feed her.
That was, of course, assuming she asked: she rarely showed any interest in what he got up to at work, whether he was in the office or not, or where his job took him.
Dan Gleave never had a problem being out of the office; he had always expressed the view that he was adding more value visiting new or prospective clients and their properties than sitting at a keyboard all day: Will agreed with him to a point, but had always been slightly frustrated at the amount of time Dan was not at his desk. Having said all that, his partner had brought in new business on a regular basis, so Will would have been on very shaky ground if he ever challenged him. Much as he had been friends with Dan for years, he always felt his partner’s ego drove him: that the image of a businessman being out in an expensive car, impressing all and sundry, was what he aspired to; Will was more content to be leading from the rear, so to speak.
However, today it would be Will’s turn to be out and about. There was no urgent reason for him to be at his desk all day today: he assumed Dan would be in, and in any case, May and Eddie would be able to keep things ticking over. It was only a two hour round trip to Paterson anyway, so he should be back in the office by lunchtime.
The Carter household morning routine ran as normal: Will and Chrissy woke up first; Will took a shower while Chrissy went downstairs to make coffee. After his shower, Will woke up Jake and Louise. Then Chrissy would take her shower and wake Jake again, this time making sure he got up. Louise would rise as soon as she woke up, and then Chrissy and Jake would join the others in the kitchen. Will had fixed bowls of cereal for everybody.
‘Toast for everybody?’ Chrissy asked, filling the toaster with slices of wholemeal bread.
‘Can I get some waffles?’ Jake asked.
‘Sorry, honey; we’re fresh out,’ replied Chrissy. ‘Can do you some French Toast if you want.’
‘No, it’s cool,’ Jake mumbled.
‘It’s not the waffles he wants,’ Louise piped up. ‘It’s the syrup.’
‘Zip it,’ Will warned his son, just as he could see an obscene reply about to follow.
‘Just toast and jelly,’ Jake said instead.
‘Just toast and jelly for everyone?’ Chrissy asked.
‘Yes please, Mommy,’ Louise called out.
‘Yeah, good for me too,’ replied Will.
‘You’re taking the subway this morning?’ Chrissy asked Will as they all munched on their toast.
‘Not today. I need to take t
he car this morning.’
‘Will, you’re kidding.’
‘Sorry, babe; I need to make a trip to Jersey. Check out a condo.’
Chrissy was disappointed. ‘Oh.’
‘Why? Did you need it?’
‘I had plans to go over to the Kings later today.’
Will looked up. ‘The Kings Plaza? You wanted to go shopping?’
‘Forget it. It doesn’t matter.’
‘I could come back here from Jersey, then take the -’
‘I said forget it. It’s not a problem; I can go another day.’
Will thought it best not to say yes, you can go another day; just munched on his toast, smiling at Louise.
Twenty minutes later, breakfast was over, Jake had already begun his twenty minute walk to school, Will was about to leave, and Chrissy was ready to take Louise to school.
‘You sure I can’t bring the car back here lunchtime?’ Will asked again.
Chrissy shook her head. ‘Don’t worry: it was only shopping. I can go another day.’
‘Whatever you say. I’ll just double check the windows and doors then I’ll go.’
‘I can do that. You go, Will.’
On his way out, Will turned and said to Chrissy, ‘What you were saying last night about Jake and the internet. I think we -’
‘I’ll talk to the school, don’t worry. You go do what you need to do in Jersey.’
‘I was going to say I’ll ask Dan what they’re doing about Clyde.’
‘Fine. Whatever.’
‘Have a good day, then.’ Will went over to Louise, bent down and kissed her. ‘Bye, Loulou. Have a nice day.’
Chrissy paused so Will could kiss her goodbye, then went back to loading up Louise’s backpack. Will said goodbye again and left. His Santa Fe was parked a couple of doors away from the steps leading up to their house and as he walked over to it, Will cautiously looked around. A few people were walking up and down the street, but none of them matching the guys in the newspaper picture. Will sat in the car, and called the office. It was still too early for anybody - even May - to be in, so he left a voicemail, saying he would be in by lunchtime. The call over, Will eased the car into the traffic and, still looking around, headed for Washington Street, then 10th Avenue and the entrance to the Lincoln Tunnel.
It took an hour to get through the tunnel and to the New Jersey exit. Will had his route planned out, and once past Weehauken, the traffic thinned out and he was able to get moving. Ten minutes later, his phone rang. It was Chrissy.
Will reached down and took the call. What was it now? She was pretty pissed off that he had taken the car and she could not go to the mall: was she calling to continue the argument?
‘Hey, what’s up?’
‘Will, where are you?’
‘New Jersey. Just passed the 95. What’s the matter?’
‘Can you talk?’
‘Sure, why?’
‘I’ve just got back from talking to Carrie Linden.’
‘Carrie Linden? Who’s she?’
‘It doesn’t matter. She’s just one of the other mothers at Louise’s school. But, Will, you’ll never guess what she told me.’
‘Do I need to pull over? Told you what?’
‘Last week, she had a break in.’
‘She did? Small world.’
‘No, but it was almost exactly a carbon copy of ours.’
‘Say what?’
‘It was virtually the same as ours. Almost identical. They were all out, the place had been ransacked, except the kids’ bedrooms, and only cash was taken.’
‘Jesus. That is almost -’
‘That’s not all. According to Carrie, the NYPD detective told her that she was the third break-in he had had in the last two weeks.’
‘So we’re the fourth?’
‘That’s right. He told her that it was probably kids, maybe watching for when they left for school. Kids just looking for cash for drugs or something.’
‘Well, at least they didn’t get much from us. How much was it? Forty bucks?’
‘Fifty. And some jewellery.’
‘Yeah, I forgot that. You did double check the doors and windows before you left?’
‘Yes, I did, I told you I would. And I’m back home now and everything’s okay.’
‘All right, honey. See you tonight, then.’
Once he had ended the call, Will began to think. Was he doing the right thing now, by going to Paterson? At that moment he had to brake sharply as an SUV which had overtaken him pulled into Will’s lane, six feet in front. Had Will not braked, he would now be in the back of it. He needed to get off the highway, to pull over somewhere and think.
Ahead Will saw the sign indicating the exit to Ridge Road was a mile ahead. He took this exit, recalling that just after the ramp was a small service area. He pulled into the service station, a small facility just offering a gas station and a McDonalds drive-thru. He found a space and parked.
Turning off the engine, he sat back and pondered. Chrissy’s news had come as a relief. Unpleasant as it was to be burglarized, he had had this irrational fear that it was connected with the mugging victim.
Correction: the murder victim.
Even though, he had been convinced that it was the same people, looking for that little white and green card DiMucci was clutching. But he knew it always was an irrational fear: if they had known he was in the stall listening to the attack; if they had hung around the mall to see him come out of the men’s room, rather than get the hell out of there; if they had been able to follow him, or Chrissy and Louise, home on a crowded subway. It would be a one in a million chance there was a connection. One in a billion, he decided, to make himself more certain.
So what was he doing driving to Paterson, NJ? Okay, the dead guy lived there, but what would have been the point of going? It would most likely have been a waste of time anyway, but now…
Surely the best thing he could do now would be to fill out that insurance claim paperwork, secure the house more and do what that cop advised and get an alarm fitted.
‘Get a grip,’ Will said to himself, started the car and headed back to the highway, east back to Manhattan.
SEVENTEEN
Will eventually made it back into the office for twelve, a broken down bus at the entrance to the Lincoln Tunnel causing him a twenty minute delay. He went through the customary greetings with May and Eddie, and then looked in on Dan. Dan had just come off the phone when Will appeared.
‘Hey there,’ Dan called out. ‘How’d it go? May said you were seeing someone in Jersey?’
‘I was,’ replied Will, not totally untruthfully, ‘but they called when I was on my way and cancelled. So I came straight here. A bus had broken down just before the tunnel Jersey side so I’ve been sitting there.’
‘So you got all the way there and had to turn round? Bummer.’
‘Well, not exactly. I had just crossed the 95.’
‘Where were you headed?’
Will saw no reason to lie: Dan knew nothing of the white card. ‘Paterson.’
Dan looked up. ‘Paterson? Yes, I know where you mean.’
As Will turned round to go to his own office, Dan called out.
‘Oh, Will? Before I forget…’
‘What?’
‘We were wondering if you guys were free Friday night. You two and the kids.’
‘I think so, yes. Why?’
‘You all wanna come over for dinner?’
‘I’ll check with Chrissy, but I think it’ll be okay. What’s the occasion?’
‘It was Jia’s idea. I think she wants to use you as guinea pigs.’
‘How so?’
‘She’s been experimenting with Cajun cuisine the last week or so. Wants to try it out on somebody other than me and Clyde.’
‘That’ll be interesting, yes. A Chinese woman cooking Cajun food.’
‘Listen: we don’t spend every mealtime eating King Prawns and dim sum.’
‘No, I
’m sure you don’t,’ Will laughed. ‘I’ll check with Chrissy, but that should be okay. Look forward to it.’
*****
Friday came and they were all getting ready to go to Dan and Jia’s. Dan had suggested 7:30; Chrissy countered back with 6:30 as Louise couldn’t be out too late, even though it was not a school night. They compromised at 7pm, giving Will and Dan time to get back from work. It was only a short cab ride to Dan and Jia’s place.
Chrissy had taken a shower late afternoon, and was almost ready; now she was getting Louise ready. Both she and Will had given up on getting Jake to take a shower too: after all, he would be retreating into Clyde’s bedroom at the first opportunity.
After showering, Will got dressed in a white polo shirt and beige pants. ‘Right, almost ready,’ he muttered, looking around the bedroom.
‘We’re almost ready down here,’ Chrissy called out from downstairs.
‘Where the…’ Will muttered, still looking around. Standing in the bedroom doorway, he called out to Chrissy. ‘Honey? You seen my wallet?’
‘Your what?’
‘My wallet. I had it up here, on the dresser.’
‘It’s not down here.’
‘It must be,’ Will mumbled, and looked around again. He lifted up the clothes he had worn during the day from the chair over which he had flung them and saw the wallet on the chair. ‘Son of a bitch,’ he muttered and pushed it into his pocket.
‘Did you find it?’ Chrissy asked as Will got downstairs.
‘It was on the chair, by my clothes. Why can’t you leave things alone?’
‘I didn’t touch your wallet.’
‘You must have done. I left it on the dresser.’
‘You couldn’t have done. You left it on the chair, where you always dump your clothes, so I can put them into the laundry.’
‘No, I left it on the dresser, before I got into the shower.’
Chrissy shook her head. ‘Whatever. Where’s Jake?’
‘I’m coming,’ came Jake’s tired voice as he followed Will downstairs.
‘Great. Let’s go,’ Will said. ‘We still need to find a cab.’
