Double Take (19 page)

Nobody answered him, but Jimmy carried on regardless. “I'm on Subzero. Got a good feelin' about it, too. And I made a tri—”

“Jimmy.” Jack raised his voice. “Keep it down, so we can hear this.”

Jimmy grumbled but thankfully didn't carry on. The race caller on the radio was giving a blow-by-blow rundown of the preparations. The horses were now being loaded into the starting barrier and the caller's voice had stepped up a notch in excitement.

Jack's pulse thundered in his neck and with each ticking second it seemed to get faster. It was nearly time. There was no going back now.

Through his side mirror he saw Pete in the car behind. Every once in a while smoke billowed from Pete's open window. It was hard to believe someone who nearly died in a fiery car accident would want to smoke in a car.

The horses were ready. The crowd hushed. Jack's heart was set to explode. His breath trapped in his throat.

“Ready to go, and there's the light, they're racing. They're off…”

“Here we go.” Jack, Rachel and Jimmy jumped from the car. Donny drove off and Pete pulled up in his place. Stubbs stepped out and caught up with them. “Let's do it.” He rolled his balaclava down over his face and climbed the front steps to the bank.

Collectively, the four of them strode through the double sliding glass doors. The staff were gathered at the front counter watching the television. Other than the four of them, the place was empty. Jack was grateful there were no customers to contend with.

Pearl looked up and gave an ear-piercing scream, and suddenly it was on.

In one swift move Jimmy launched onto the main counter, pointing his Glock at the terrified bank staff. “Everyone on the floor. Put your hands on your heads.” Jimmy was quick and made sure no-one had time to trigger the alarm buttons on the side of each teller's station.

Jack and Rachel made for the locked gate at the end of the counter. This time, however, he wasn't waiting for one of them to open it.

“…down the straight the first time and Sir Winston has gone through there on the inside to lead the field…”

He leant over and unhooked the latch. At the other end of the bank, Stubbs sprayed paint onto the camera.

“Get on the floor and stop screaming.” Jimmy was shouting at Pearl, and Jack hoped she'd be okay. She was already a nervous Nellie. He watched her drop to her knees and felt even worse about what he was doing. When Anna reached over to help her, he looked away.

“No-one's gonna get hurt,” Jimmy said. “As long as you do what I say. Now move.” Thankfully the screaming stopped and Jack tried not to look as he imagined the three women cowering on the carpet.

“…Doctor Grace out very wide on the track, Subzero behind them…”

Once through the swinging door, Rachel walked up to the bank manager and stuck her gun in his face. She was right about one thing: the guns did look real.

“Mr Cain,” she said. “You have two choices: one, come with me quietly; or two, I put a bullet through your belly and drag you to the safe.”

Jack saw Ian's eyes widen. Maybe it was because she had used his name, or because she was a woman, or perhaps because of what she'd said. Either way, he didn't hesitate. Cain led them up the ramp to the strongroom door, with Rachel pushing the gun into his lower back.

“Again you have two choices, Mr Cain.” Rachel sounded as pure as a schoolteacher. “You can either open the safe yourself or we can break a few of your fingers getting the combination out of you.”

Mr Cain looked from Rachel to Jack and Jack lowered his eyes. The last thing he needed was to be recognised.

“I'll open the safe,” Cain said. “But you need another combination.”

“Who?” Rachel shoved the gun into his groin and he jumped.

“Anna,” he blurted. “Call for Anna.”

Jack stepped down the ramp and barked out Anna's name. The blonde looked over and Jack noticed the tears in her eyes.

“…Veandercross is midfield on the inside of Subzero…”

Jimmy was still on the counter with his gun directed at the grounded staff but now he turned towards the television. “Come on, Subzero.” He was loud enough that Jack heard him from the ramp. He shook his head and gave him the death stare, but Jimmy was focused on the screen.

Anna made it to the ramp and once again Jack averted his eyes. By the time the two of them stepped into the vault, Cain had dialled his combination and stepped back.

Rachel grabbed Anna by the wrist and shoved her forward. “Get your combo off.” She had gone from pure schoolteacher to evil dictator, and Jack wasn't happy with the transition.

“…London Bridge is trying to push clear, with a length and a half to Subzero…”

Jack tried to ignore the race caller but it was impossible. It sounded like Jimmy had turned up the volume. As Anna moved in and began to spin the dial, Jack noticed her trembling fingers. Each time she tried to stop on the number she overshot it and needed to start again.

“What's the hold-up?” Rachel seemed unaware of the irony in her question.

“I keep missing the number.” Anna's tears were now streaming down her pink cheeks.

Rachel shoved her gun into her back and Anna whimpered like a trapped puppy. “Tell me them,” she screamed.

“One minute.” Jimmy's time call from the front of the bank was loud and clear. They had about two minutes to go.

“Three right, forty-six.” Anna's voice was barely a whisper. “Two left, twenty-one—no, twenty. Sorry, I'm sorry, I'm used to doing it myself and I don't usually say the numbers out loud.”

“The number, Anna, is it twenty-one or twenty?” Rachel was back into schoolteacher mode.

“It's twenty.”

Rachel worked on the safe as she spoke. She spun the dial three times around to the right, stopping at the number forty-six. Then rotated it twice to the left, halting at number twenty.

As Jack watched Rachel's expert manipulation of the safe combination he was taken back twenty years to that convenience store robbery. Rachel made opening the safe look easy back then, too. Apparently she'd snuck into her mother's safe on a regular basis.

“What's next, Anna?” Rachel asked.

“One right, fifty-one and then left to sixteen.”

“…at the halfway mark sixteen hundred to go in the Melbourne Cup and Sir Winston in front…”

Apart from the race caller's voice, the strongroom was as silent as a funeral parlour.

Rachel twisted the tumbler once around to the right and stopped at number fifty-one, and finally spun it left to stop at number sixteen. To complete the set she turned the dial back to the right until it stopped in place. She then grasped the metal handle and tugged it downwards. The bolts thudded into place. Rachel smiled. The door was open.

“Two minutes. Go Subzero!” Jimmy yelled.

Rachel pulled on the heavy door and it yawned open. She shoved Anna aside and Cain gently guided her behind him. They began to shuffle backwards towards the ramp.

Rachel briefly wrestled with the keys she'd removed from Ian's neck and soon she had all four internal panels in the safe unlocked. She reached into the top shelf and removed a bundle of one hundred dollar notes. “Oh yeah,” she said as she shoved the cash into the already unzipped duffle bag.

“Come on, Subzero,” Jimmy called out again. Jack couldn't believe his brother was still watching the race. He'd better have his eye on those two ladies as well. Jack would throttle him if anything happened to either of them because of his stupidity.

“Open the drawers.” This was Stubbs, instructing Pearl and Tania to empty all the cash drawers at the front tellers' stations. He was glad he'd given the job to Stubbs and not his brother.

Once the first duffle bag was full Rachel shoved it towards Jack. He stepped over, zipped it up and gathered it by the handles.

“…with about twelve hundred and fifty to go, further back is Subzero…”

“Go, Subzero.” Jimmy again. Jack wanted to punch the living shit out of him.

With the second and final bag full, Rachel zipped it up herself and gathered the handles ready to carry. She nodded at Jack and they left Mr Cain and Anna huddled together as they raced down the ramp.

“…Subzero goes for home in the Cup, he might have it won. He's three in front…”

“We're done,” Rachel called out as she ran with Jack out the swinging gate and towards the front of the bank. The excitement in the commentator's voice was at high intensity and Jack assumed the race was about to finish.

Jimmy was still on the counter, his eyes glued to the television. Had he even noticed them running towards the front?

“…Subzero wins the Melbourne Cup by two lengths, second Veandercross a length and a half away, third Castletown…”

“I won,” yelled Jimmy. “I won the trifecta.”

“Shut up, Jimmy, you dickhead.” Jack would've clipped him around the ear if he'd been within reaching distance.

“Hey, don't use my name.”

“Get down. We're done.” Jack glared at his brother through the eyeholes of his balaclava as they ran past the counter.

“Hey, bank manager, I need you to count to one hundred before any of you move,” Jimmy said.

“One, two, three—”

“Louder!” Jimmy yelled this time.

“Four, five, six…”

Jack heard the quiver in Ian's voice. Jimmy jumped down and caught up with Rachel, Stubbs and Jack at the front glass doors.

“You're a fuckin' idiot.” Jack couldn't help himself. He clipped him across the back of his head anyway.

“I won the trifecta on the damn race. What a buzz!”

Jack shook his head. The stupid shit still didn't get it.

“Eleven, twelve, thirteen…”

“Bags.”

Rachel handed hers to Jack and Stubbs obediently did the same. Jack then transferred all three bags into his left hand ready to freely remove his balaclava when the time came. He stayed at the entrance to the bank and watched as Rachel, Jimmy and Stubbs strode through the automatic doors and set off down the front steps. There wasn't a single person around. No cars, either. It was eerie to see Brisbane city like this, especially this intersection. Queen Street and Eagle Street were normally chock-a-block with vehicles and people.

“You dumb fuck, who cares about the stupid race!” This was Stubbs.

“It was a trifecta. It'll probably pay about six grand.” They were heading towards the pedestrian crossing and Jimmy was still yabbering.

“Yeah, well, you're gonna have to cut it six ways 'cause we paid for it, too.”

“How do you figure that?” They were almost across the road now and Jack could still hear him. It must've been killing them to maintain such a slow pace after what they'd just done.

“'Cause you were watching the damn race instead of the staff. You could've cost us.”

“Yeah, well, I didn't, so I ain't giving you jack shit.”

“Forty-four, forty-five…” Ian was still going and the timing was perfect. Jack would be long gone before the bank manager reached one hundred.

Once he was satisfied that Rachel, Stubbs and Jimmy had cleared the road and were on their way to Donny's car, he pulled off his balaclava and set off on his own getaway plan.

Pete was waiting at the exact same spot where he'd jumped out of Donny's car. Jack could see the whites of Pete's eyes and his stocky fingers drumming on the steering wheel.

The moment he saw him, Pete charged the ignition. Jack tossed the bags into the back and then jumped into the passenger seat. Pete exaggerated a sniff as he forced the car into drive.

Suddenly a car drove into the driveway in front of them, blocking them off completely.

Pete leant on the horn and waved his arm in a ‘move out of the way' action. But the woman in the other car waved her arms right back at him, as if she were angry at them. She was yelling too. Not that Jack could hear a word she was saying.

Next moment, she was climbing out of the car.

“What the fuck's she doing?” Pete wound down his window as she walked towards him. Her dark hair blew across her face and when she brushed it back Jack's heart jumped to his throat. This woman, whoever she was, looked just like Candice. A healthier, more mobile Candice, with darker hair. Even the mole high up on her left cheek was in exactly the same place. They could have been twins.

“Get outta the way!” Pete yelled and Jack snapped out of his reverie.

The woman leant into the window and Jack saw her entire cleavage down her top. He snapped his eyes away, but when Pete made a noise that made the hair on Jack's neck bristle, he looked back. What he saw was beyond comprehension. The woman had a cloth over Pete's mouth. Jack lunged over the handbrake and tried to grab it, but between Pete's stiff flailing arms and her force he was useless. He could already tell Pete was losing consciousness. Soon his arms fell loose at his side and seconds later his forehead fell forward and onto the horn.

It all happened so fast. The horn was blaring. Pete was unconscious. And then the crazy bitch opened the back door and reached for the duffle bags.

“NO!” Jack lunged from the front seat, but she nearly broke his arm when she yanked the bags free. She was running now. The bags didn't even look heavy in her hands.

She tossed them into the open door of her car and was reversing out by the time Jack undid his seatbelt. Her tyres squealed as she reversed up the ramp and without any hesitation she backed out onto the street. Jack chased her up the laneway and banged his fist on her driver's window when she paused. She smiled at him and it was only now he noticed the unusual colour of her eyes. Not quite blue, not quite green. Then she shoved the gearstick forward and sped off.

Jack could do nothing but stare at the disappearing car. In a matter of seconds his detailed planning had shattered into a million pieces. He drove his fingers through his hair. How the hell did this happen? The still-blaring horn made him turn back to Pete.