Reed stood up and glowered down at the tray. “Why the hell is there no blueberry?”
Chapter Seventeen
Smithy closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“What’s this one do?” asked Diller.
“I don’t know.”
“I’m going to press it.”
“OK.”
Diller pressed the button and the screen dividing them from the driver whirred down.
“Hey, Frank.”
“Hey, Mr Diller. Everything OK back there?”
“Yes, Frank. Sorry, it’s my first time in a limo. I’m just seeing what all the buttons do.”
Frank laughed. He was a jolly guy from Queens. Diller had introduced himself before they’d even got in the car. Smithy had been trying to spend the day moping around, dreading the humiliation he’d no doubt have to endure over the next few days. Once he’d seen all the paperwork confirming his mother’s all-expenses-paid stay in Cedarbrook, and spoken to the centre to verify it, Diller was busy making friends and enjoying the high life.
“No problem, Mr Diller. You tried that red one on the middle console yet?”
“No, I … Ohhh!” The “ohhh” was because a drinks cabinet had appeared between the seats. “Cool.”
“Finally,” said Smithy, “something useful. Hey, Frank, are we OK to …”
“Fire away, Mr Smith. It’s all complimentary.”
“Great, and call me Smithy, please, Frank.”
“No can do, Mr Smith. Company policy.”
“Fair enough.”
Normally, Smithy would have raged against such a thing, but he wasn’t in the mood. He picked up one of the decanters sitting in the display, removed the stopper and took a sniff. He didn’t have the nose for these things, but it was definitely whiskey. He poured himself somewhere between a triple and a quadruple measure and raised it carefully to his lips. The first sip left a pleasing tingle in his throat. Smithy guessed whatever this stuff was, it wasn’t cheap.
“What’s up with you?” asked Diller.
“How do you mean?”
“You’ve been in a mood all day.”
“You mean today? The day that started with me getting woken from the storeroom I was sleeping in because Cheryl had kicked me out, to find out my nemesis had started messing with your life and threatening your mother’s treatment to get me to take part in some sick, twisted little game?”
“Yeah,” said Diller. “But since then we got to stay in a fancy hotel, got given free stuff …”
Muroe had provided them with a few changes of clothes, shoes and some toiletries. Annoyingly, the clothes she provided for Smithy fit better than the ones he already owned. He had gone with the garish green-and-blue Hawaiian shirt. He didn’t know why – possibly as some form of self-flagellation.
“… we’re in a limo and we’re about to get on a private jet to fly to Hawaii! Even you’ve got to admit, some of this is pretty cool?”
“No, I don’t,” said Smithy. “All I’m seeing is excess and ostentation. Leading up to me being made into an exhibit in this rich a-hole’s private zoo.”
Diller sat back. “OK, you’re wrecking my buzz now.” He leaned forward abruptly and grabbed something from the bar. “Free peanuts – cool!” He tore open the packet with his teeth and offered it to Smithy, who shook his head. “So, what else?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“No,” said Diller. “I mean, what else is bothering you?”
“Isn’t all of that enough?”
Diller shrugged and looked out the window.
Smithy raised his drink to his lips, but then took it away without partaking. “If you must know, I hate flying.”
“Oh. Is that why you’ve been, y’know …”
“What?”
“Well. You kept the barman in the hotel pretty busy too.”
“That’s part of it,” conceded Smithy. “Plus, if I’ve got to go through this, I’ll be damned if I’m not costing this fuck-knuckle a small fortune in booze.”
“If you like, we could throw some out the window?” said Diller.
“Spoken like a true non-drinker. Don’t you dare.”
“Alright. I was just trying to help.”
“Surely the bigger question here, Dill, is how come you’re in such a good mood? I mean, I brought this to my front door through my own stupidity, but Lousy Louis Reed has nothing on you and he still threatened you and your family.”
Diller shrugged. “I know, but Mom is OK now.” He tapped his jacket pocket. “I’ve got the paperwork to prove it. I know this is shitty for you but come on, this time yesterday I was shinnying along a wire, trying to get into my own house without catching a beating. Now I’m in a limo about to go on a private jet. I’ve never been on any kind of aircraft before, outside of sitting in one on a trip to a museum. It’s a day of firsts for me.”
“And,” said Smithy, “you got to launch yourself across a table and attempt to throttle a monster.”
Diller blushed. “I feel bad about that.”
“Why? He definitely had it coming.”
“It’s not my … y’know. Mom brought me up to be better than that.” Diller winced. “No offence.”
Smithy laughed. “Hey, that’s the least you could say. My stupidity got you into this in the first place. I’ve been trying to apologise to you all day.”
Diller waved him away. “Forget about it. It’s all worked out fine.”
Smithy laughed again – a more bitter one this time – and took a large drink.
“Hey,” said Diller, “did you mean what you said before?”
“What?”
“About Reed being your nemesis?” Diller’s eyes lit up on the word “nemesis”.
“I dunno,” said Smithy. “I’m beginning to realise that maybe thinking like that is the reason I keep ending up in crap up to my neck, usually while standing on my head.”
The car took a right turn and the noise from the wheels changed as it slowed down.
Diller looked out the window. “Looks like we’re here.”
“Great,” said Smithy, draining the last of his drink.
Chapter Eighteen
Ms Muroe met them on the stairs up to the aircraft as a crew member hurried past, carrying their bags. “Gentlemen, welcome aboard. I trust you had a pleasant day?”
“Wow,” said Diller, “is this a Falcon 900?”
Ms Muroe looked around. “Er, I’ve no idea. Are you a plane enthusiast?”
“No, but when I knew we were going on one, I went down to the hotel reception and they let me use a computer to look at them.”
“Right. Well, I guess you could go ask the pilot?”
“Sweet!” Diller noticed Smithy’s expression. “I mean, yeah, whatever.”
“When do we get our phones back?” asked Smithy.
“When we get back here. This group of people takes privacy very seriously.”