Читать книгу: «The Perfect Murder: Spine-chilling short stories for long summer nights»

Before Noon
A short story by Jacqui Rose
10.32 a.m.

‘I said are you fucking ready?’

Jay’s fingers hesitated on the silver car door handle as the familiar voice shouted at him. Cold sweat dripped from his forehead; trapped under his balaclava. His green eyes were wide open, terrified, his sight blurred by the film of perspiration on his lashes.

He rubbed his eyes, looking round to the back of the car. One man, known but unrecognisable by his demonic clown mask, sat staring with hostile contempt at him.

‘I said, are you ready?’

Before Jay had time to speak, he felt the cold end of the steel gun under his chin pushing up, snapping his mouth shut and causing him to bite his tongue. He tasted the salty blood and squinted, but his balaclava hid his pain as he trembled.

‘Don’t mess this up Jay. There’s a lot riding on it.’

Jay nodded. A tiny nod. Not wanting to press on the gun any more than he had to.

‘I want to hear the words Jay. Say them.’

The gun was released and Jay’s eyes darted around the dark interior of the car. He attempted to speak but the skin on his lips stuck together. He licked them but his mouth, void of saliva and dry as the long hot summer they were in, gave no relief to his parched lips. It was a hoarse croak that followed. ‘I’m ready.’

The eyes which stared back at him danced with mocking laughter, but the approval in them was fiercely proud.

Dave Cole spoke in a whisper, earnest, encouraging words to his son. ‘That’s it. That’s it son. Let’s go and get them motherfuckers.’

‘Okay.’

‘This is your initiation son. Your granddad would be proud of you. Don’t let him down. God rest his soul.’

Jay’s reply was as dead as his lifeless eyes as he stared at his father. ‘Yeah.’

Dave nodded, pulling down his balaclava over his face before giving the signal they were waiting for. The click of the colt .9mm sub-machine guns echoed round the car. An instant later the doors of the blacked-out SUV flung open and all three occupants ran out, adrenaline packed bodies, shouting and yelling. ‘Get down! Get down! Fucking turn your face away! Get down!’

Jay, last out of the car ran behind, trying desperately to ignore the fear taking hold of his body that was making his knees buckle as he looked round, backing up, pointing his machine gun at the old lady who stared in terror as he headed into the safe deposit bank.

‘Shut the doors! Shut the fucking doors!’

Jay heard his dad calling out the orders as the cool of the air conditioning inside the building hit them.

About half a dozen people milled round and it took them a moment to realise what was happening, but as soon as they saw the masked gunmen they froze. At first no one breathed and no one dared to move, then a second later, panic broke out. A frantic burst of screaming followed as the customers raced to get out; trying to dash for the exit as they ran for their lives. The old man who’d been filling in a form, staggered backwards, tripping over his own fear as he stared into Jay’s eyes

‘Get down on the floor. Nobody move!’ Dave bellowed out the instructions. Most of the people dropped down, automatically putting their hands on their heads; influenced by their years of television watching. A young man ran towards the door but his exit was blocked. Dave growled threateningly.

‘Don’t play the hero, mate.’ With that, the gun Dave was holding smashed across the customer’s face, sending him down on the ground; blood splattering across the clothing of the woman next to him.

Dave turned to the others. ‘Does anyone else want to play superhero? Hey you, get down.’

The brown haired pregnant woman paused, locking eyes before she slowly lowered herself carefully down to the floor.

‘I can’t lie on my front.’ Her voice was quiet but a hint of defiance escaped from it.

Dave spat his words. ‘Then lie on your side. Anyone else got any fucking requests?’

Jay ran towards the cashiers’ windows, watching as the steel shutters began to slowly come down. He placed a small explosive device on the window, yelling at the women on the other side of the glass. ‘Put your arms up. Keep them up or your colleague over there will get it. Do not press anything. When I say “duck”, duck.’

He shouted as he leapt away, running towards the others who stood staring intently, watching for any movement from the terrified men and women lying on the ground.

‘Now duck!’

With Jay’s call, Dave Cole pressed the device in his hand, detonating the explosives. Shards of glass splintered everywhere. A roaring crack of noise sounded as the steel shutters blasted off and out, whizzing across the bank at lethal speed. A fireball of heat and smoke shot out, and greys, yellows and reds flashed in front of Jay’s eyes.

The blast over, Jay leapt forward, waving his gun around.

‘Stay where you are! Stay where you are!’ He ran back to where the bomb blast had been, expertly smashing the remaining glass out of the way, enabling him to jump up over the counter.

He pointed his gun at the two women who cowered in the corner. He could see one of them had been hurt. Blood poured from the top of her head where a three inch piece of steel was embedded into her skull. He flinched, suddenly aware of the stifling heat. Bile rose up from his stomach as a wave of nausea hit him.

‘Move it! Move it!’ Dave yelled at his son from behind as he saw him standing there. ‘Put the money in the bag. Quick!’

Snapping out of his trance, Jay sprang into action, clearing the drawers of the money as his dad proceeded to speak to the teller.

10.36 a.m.

‘Go to the safe.’ Dave drew up the unharmed woman from the floor with the tip of his gun, leading her towards it. He looked up at the clock, watching the second hand tick around.

‘Move it!’

The woman shakily got to her feet, anxiety showing in her eyes as she looked at her colleague lying in a pool of blood on the floor.

‘Keep your eyes straight. Now put the combination in.’

‘I … I don’t know it.’

Dave prodded her in the back with the end of the gun.

‘Don’t play the blonde darlin’. Put in the combination. We don’t want your daughter coming home to a body bag.’

The woman swivelled round, hatred and fear on her face as she looked at Dave.

‘I know all about you Sheila. I do my homework babe. So open it for your daughter.’

Sheila shakily pressed the digits into the safe. The first click sounded out, signalling the opening of the first set of locks. She paused only momentarily but enough for Dave to spot it.

‘Don’t even think about it.’ Dave wasn’t stupid. Far from it. He knew exactly what he was doing when it came to bank jobs. And he knew exactly what this woman was thinking. The digit nine, if pressed twice sent an emergency SOS message through to the police, but more to the point, if the digit was pressed twice, it locked down all the safes making it impossible to open them even with the codes.

‘What is it with you lot? You work here, it ain’t your money, so stop looking after it as if it was your pussy.’

‘You’ll go down for this.’

Dave gritted his teeth. He grabbed the woman’s hair, only just resisting the temptation to smash her head against the steel door.

He took a glance to the side to look at his son standing near the old man. He’d doubted Jay, but he seemed to be handling it. Making him proud. He’d always seen his son as a waste of space; wrapped up in cotton wool by his mother until he’d turned into an embarrassment. An embarrassment to the Cole name.

Jay hadn’t been brought up the way he had. With the belt, with the metal cable; locked in the coal cupboard for hours on end when he’d cried, having to stay there without food until his stomach had burnt with pain. There were no cuddles and kisses, no bedtime stories and no telling each other, I love you. But that was an upbringing, that was how to make a man out of a boy.

It’d made him who he was today and he thanked his father for it. Thanked him. Not hated him. Not felt his whole body clenched with anger and bitterness when he thought about the dark, cold nights he’d spent alone as a kid when his dad had gone on the lash. No, that’s what his wife had wanted him to do. She’d wanted him to be angry at his father and he almost had been. Almost. But then she’d left with a note simply saying that it had all been too much and she couldn’t be with him. Bitch.

‘I said, fucking move it!’ The anger swelled up inside Dave. He turned his attention back to the woman, smashing his fist against the door and showing he meant business.

‘Hurry up!’

10.40 a.m.

With one final digit, the door clicked open.

‘Now!’ Dave yelled at Jay who hurried to where his dad was standing, bringing three empty bags with him.

They ran into the safe, pulling open the miniature drawers. Jewellery, money, gold and diamonds. The bags filled up quickly.

‘Now let’s get out of here son.’

Jay and Dave Cole ran out, leaping back across the counter, pulling the over-sized bags with them. They nodded to Mike, the third man in their crew who took a bag, running together to make their exit through the door of the frosted safe deposit bank.

Hauling the door open, they froze as panic hit the pit of their stomachs. They stared at the row of police cars, blue lights flashing and armed response pointing guns in their direction.

‘Get back! Get back! Fuck … Fuck!’ Dave hollered as his cousin, Mike, began firing out bullets from the sub-machine gun under his arm.

Grabbing hold of Mike, Dave pulled him backwards by his shirt into the bank. He yelled at the top of his voice.

‘What the hell are you doing? Did I tell you to fire? Did I fucking tell you to?’

Mike pushed Dave off him, charged with anger. ‘What are they doing here? You said it’d be fine. You said we had time.’

‘Shut up! Shut the fuck up. How do I know what they’re doing here?’

Dave rubbed his head. ‘Let me think. Let me bleedin’ think.’

‘Think! We’re fucked Dave. I ain’t serving no more time.’

Dave grabbed Mike by his shirt again, all control going out of the window. He screamed as he shook his cousin.

‘Are you stupid? Don’t call me by my frigging name in front of anyone! Never, call me by my name! Why don’t you broadcast where I live while you’re at it?’

He let go, walking across to where most of the customers lay terrified on the floor. He had to think. Think. There were too many police to attempt a shoot-out. Shit. Shit. He wasn’t even going to start to worry about how and why the police had arrived so soon. All he needed to think about was how the hell they were going to get out.

‘Give me the plans.’ Dave gestured to Mike who pulled out the detailed map, spreading it out on the side.

The tannoy of the police outside boomed through the bank.

‘We are armed. I advise you to put your weapons down and come out. Come out with your hands up.’

Jay looked at his dad hesitantly. His eyes as afraid as they’d always been, since the day his mother had walked out.

‘Maybe …’

Dave Cole turned on his son, beating him back with his body. ‘Don’t even say it. Don’t fucking say it.’

Jay’s back crashed into the mid-aisle desk. He caught his breath as the pain exploded through him, but still he continued.

‘I mean, maybe it’s better. Before it goes too far.’

Dave sneered. ‘Go on then son. If that’s what you want, walk.What are you waiting for?’

Jay looked at his father, then at the door. His heart pounded and for a split-second he almost imagined his father could hear it beating as well. He nodded then turned and slowly walked towards the doors. As Jay reached for the door he froze in terror, hearing the unmistakeable sound of the trigger being drawn behind him.

He turned around slowly; his eyes first on his dad and then on the sub-machine gun pointing at him. Jay’s eyes brimmed with a shallow pool of tears as anger, hurt and resentment shot through him.

‘No one turns their back on me. No one. Least of all my own son. You want to walk; go. But it’ll be the last walk you ever do.’

Jay breathed heavily, watching his dad walk towards him with the gun still pointing his way. Dave stopped inches away from his son, leaning in and making it hard for the others to hear what he was saying.

‘Son or no son, I will shoot you. No one leaves unless I tell them to.’

Jay spoke, his voice strained with emotion. ‘Then tell me something, Dad. How the hell are we going to get out of here?’

10.48 a.m.

Dave spoke to Mike and Jay. ‘We’ll get out of here. Tomorrow we’ll be drinking fucking pina coladas by the pool. Trust me, when have I ever let you down before?’

Without waiting for a reply or taking notice of the sidewards glances, Dave scanned the plan of the bank. Pointing his finger, he nodded to himself. Hope and enthusiasm in his voice, he ignored the hostile stare coming from the pretty brown haired pregnant woman on the ground.

‘I’ve got it. As we know the safe’s got a back entrance leading down to the vault. The far side wall is double bonded but behind it, is our route out. It leads into the sewers. Once we’re through, if we walk south facing, the bypass sewer will take us underneath the main precinct; from there we can make our way up to ground level following this route here.’

Dave traced his gloved finger along the plans before continuing authoritively. ‘The route’s used for the underground sewage workers, so access won’t be a problem. So what do you reckon?’

Mike looked at Dave, his beady eyes staring out of the demonic mask he was wearing. ‘Oh yeah, sounds great … one thing though … how the fuck are we supposed to get through the back wall?’

‘With these little beauties.’

Dave Cole held up a handful of explosives; the same ones that Jay had placed on the teller’s window.

‘The back wall sits next to the gas pipe. Place these babies on the wall … boom!’

‘You’re fucking crazy. The whole place will go up.’

‘I repeat, put your weapons down. Come out with your hands on your head.’

The police tannoy sounded again, interrupting the conversation. Dave pulled Mike into him. ‘Look, we ain’t got many options, unless of course you’ve got any better ideas. But I for one, am going to get the hell out of here. You can stay here for all I care, but me? I’m already smelling freedom.’

Dave grabbed his bag and signalled for Jay to follow him. He pointed at the customers.

‘Tie them up, but we’ll need to take a couple of them with us, just in case we need some bargaining powers. Take him, her and her. The rest of them, tie them on the desks. Stick a couple of charges on them, might make them think twice about playing the hero.’

‘But …’

Dave’s stare was levelled and cold as he interrupted his son. ‘Don’t talk. Don’t think. Just do it.’

Jay and Mike bent down, quickly pulling and grabbing the customers. Mike began to separate them, pushing aside the people Dave had chosen. Pointing his gun at their heads, Mike scrambled to get the rope out of the backpack, expertly tying their hands behind their backs and on to the steel legs of the desk.

‘Shut up!’ He yelled at the fat woman Sheila, who began to cry; shaking and pleading for her life as he placed the explosive between her legs, strapping it on with silver tape. Next he wrapped the tape across her mouth, gagging her words of fear.

Jay turned his head away, unable to look. As he did, he caught his father’s stare who gave him a pitiful look. He chewed on the inside of his mouth, trying to ignore the growing anxiety in his stomach and the realisation that his father would stop at nothing to get them out of there.