‘What?’
‘It’s better for you. And it’s easier going down.’
The man looked at Scott. ‘Is he for real?’
‘He’s got—’ Scott began. And then he thought, No, why should I have to tell people he’s got learning difficulties? It’s their damn problem, not his.
He worked his jaw, not knowing what he should say instead. He thought he was saved when the lift halted suddenly.
But that’s when it all went wrong.
Later, he would delve into chaos theory without even knowing he was doing so. He would wonder about how things could be so finely balanced that the most inoffensive of words, the briefest of glances, the tiniest lapse of concentration could alter lives so profoundly and irreversibly. A touch that could start an avalanche.
Perhaps it wasn’t the jolt of the lift stopping – perhaps it would have happened anyway – but it was in that moment that the strap on the man’s backpack came loose, and the bag slipped from his shoulder and fell to the floor and the flap flew open and some of the contents spilled out and Scott saw the plastic bags of white powder and the wads of money and the semi-automatic pistol.
‘Fuck!’ the man said as he squatted to retrieve his possessions.
Scott looked away. He saw that Daniel wasn’t looking away but instead staring wide-eyed at the items, and he thought, No, Daniel, look at me, not him, don’t see those things, don’t say anything, and why the hell aren’t these doors opening, why can’t we get out of—?
The doors opened.
Scott grabbed Daniel by the wrist and pulled him into the corridor. He wanted to move faster, but Daniel was dragging his feet, his eyes still on the man. Scott pulled harder, his own gaze on the fire doors ahead.
‘Wait!’
Scott halted.
Shit.
The man followed them out of the lift, walked directly up to Scott and locked eyes with him. ‘What did you see?’ he asked.
‘Nothing,’ Scott said. ‘I didn’t see anything.’
‘Right answer.’ He turned to Daniel. ‘What about you? What did you see in the lift?’
Say what I said, Scott willed. For once in your life, tell a damn lie.
‘I saw my dad, and I saw you, and I saw some money and a gun.’
Shit, shit, shit.
The man moved into Daniel’s personal space. ‘Have you got a fucking death wish or something? I’ll ask you again, dickhead. What did you see?’
Daniel seemed puzzled, but then his face brightened.
‘Oh yeah. You’ve got some bags of white stuff in there too.’
Scott hastened forward. ‘He doesn’t understand. He’s got learning difficulties.’ As soon as the words left his mouth, he hated himself.
The man gave him a withering look. ‘I’m not asking him to win the Nobel Prize. I just want to know if he can keep his mouth shut.’
‘He will. He won’t tell a—’
‘Shut it.’ He turned to Daniel again. ‘So what about it? What’re you going to say if anyone asks about me?’
Daniel looked helplessly at his father.
‘It’s okay, Daniel. Just tell him what he wants to hear, and then we can go home.’
‘Yeah, Daniel,’ the man said. ‘You heard him. Tell me.’
‘Tell you what?’
‘Tell me what I’ve got in this fucking bag.’
Daniel looked again at his dad, and then at the man. ‘I don’t know,’ he said.
The man nodded. ‘That’s more like it. Now you’ve—’
‘I didn’t see everything. I only saw the money and the gun and the white stuff.’
Scott moved forward again. He said, ‘Look, he’s not being funny with you. He doesn’t know how to lie, that’s all. He’s not going to talk to anyone about this.’
And then he made the mistake of putting his hand on the man’s shoulder.
The man whirled and slapped Scott’s hand away.
‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’
