Take the Fall

“Tom, your toast is burning” The smell had wafted into the living room, where Jared was sprawled on the couch. Hearing his brother’s warning from the stairs, Tom dashed to the kitchen.

“Oh crap. I promised Eve I’d make breakfast in bed, but that was the last slice…”

“What’s all the commotion?” Eve drifted downstairs in her silk dressing gown, bleary-eyed and bedraggled.

“I’m so sorry honey, breakfast is a bit ruined” Tom grimaced, holding up the blackened bread.

“Oh don’t worry about it, just give me a kiss to make up for it”

Her words made Jared cringe and cover his ears; they were in the sickly-sweet honeymoon phase, and it was disgusting. He couldn’t truly complain though – his brother had put him up for a few days so he could hide from his landlord, Mr Frey, who had been after him for rent for the past week. Jared had explained that he’d just been sacked and needed time to find a new job, but the landlord wasn’t having any of it. This is the same man who kicked out his pregnant neighbour just last week, after all. But it was time to face the music.

“Tom, I’ve got to go home. Maybe try and beg for extra time, I don’t know. Wish me luck”

“Do you need a lift?” Tom was relieved to have his couch back.

“Nah, I’m gonna walk the long way through Brooks Path, that countryside road. Maybe that’ll put me in a good mood before Frey kills me” Jared grinned. He went upstairs to pack, before waving his brother and Eve goodbye.

He was right; the walk was putting him in a good mood. The sun warmed his pale skin, and the air was crisp and fresh. Putting his headphones on, Jared felt himself smile as Bob Marley’s ‘Three Little Birds’ played. As a mild breeze ruffled his hair, Jared closed his eyes, trusting himself to walk straight as he relaxed his shoulders and breathed in the countryside. He didn’t know how long he’d been walking before his face smacked the hard gravel, yelping in pain at the impact. Jared groaned, before straining to see what he’d tripped over – and when he realised, he scrambled to stand and ripped off his headphones.

There, in the middle of the road, was a big black bag, attached to a small parachute. Jared backed away, still in shock from the fall, and tried to make sense of it. He looked at the sky for a plane, but could see nothing. Scanning the horizon, he wondered if someone had dumped it, but no one was around. Cautiously, he approached the bag, and crouched down. Grabbing the end of the zip, Jared opened the bag and gently parted the material.

As clear as day, in neatly stacked piles, were £50 notes. Lots and lots and lots of them. In that moment, Jared forgot his pain, forgot how to breathe, forgot his own name. This was more money than he’d ever seen in his entire life. With shaking hands, he picked up a wad of notes, bound in a currency strap. There must have been about £5000 in his hands, minimum. Jared rooted through the bag, trying not to get too excited, but he couldn’t help himself. That was, until, he came across a little black notebook.

Hesitantly, he opened the first page, and found a message:

Get rid of the money

Tell the police, we kill you

Run away, we kill you

You have 24 hours

His joy turned into horror when Jared realised he’d been set up.

24 hours until what?

He looked around frantically, his calming countryside walk becoming the complete opposite. The adrenaline rush triggered his survival instincts to take over – and the only two options were to risk death, or do what the book said. Opting for the latter, he ripped off the parachute and swung the bag onto his shoulder. His walk sped into a slight jog, before he broke into a run, sweat pooling on his back under the weight of both bags. When he finally reached his apartment building on the outskirts of Oakwood town, he checked his watch. 1:30pm – Frey's probably getting his coffee. Or kicking puppies. With a deep breath, Jared walked inside and climbed up the stairwell, before quickly unlocking his door and slamming it shut behind him. In a swift motion, he dumped the bags and collapsed on the bed of his tiny studio apartment.

What the hell was he going to do?

Clearly whoever dropped the bag from the sky was part of something criminal. But why him? And how was he going to get rid of the money? Jared felt like his brain was going to melt, so he poured himself a drink and sat down, elbows on knees. Maybe he could set it on fire? Bury it? But how could he do that without being caught? Wanting more clues, Jared grabbed the notebook from the bag, flipping through its pages; but there was nothing more than the message, mocking him. In anger and fear, he pried open the loose floorboards under his bed and shoved the bag inside, not wanting to see it anymore. He figured going into the woods and burying it would keep himself hidden too, so he decided he’d buy a shovel tomorrow when the hardware store opened. Until then, there was nothing he could do but wait, plagued by his own thoughts. Shutting the curtains and blocking the world out, he switched on the TV and crawled into bed, waiting for sleep to take him.

“I know you’re in there Jared!” Mr Frey’s fists pounded on Jared’s door, and he sprung awake. 9am. 4 hours left.

Still fully clothed from yesterday, Jared rubbed his eyes and yawned, before the realisation hit him – the rent. After everything that happened yesterday, his problem with Mr Frey paled in comparison. Maybe if he was really quiet, Mr Frey wouldn’t…

“I can hear the TV Jared! If you don’t open the door, I’ll drag you out myself!”

Crap.

“Errr, just a minute Mr Frey!” Jared panicked; he hadn’t rehearsed what he was going to say. But before he could convince Mr Frey not to kick him out, a thought flashed across his mind.

They said get rid of the money; this would count, right?

Kneeling down, Jared pulled back the loose floorboard and grabbed two stacks. He strode to the door and opened it to an angry Mr Frey.

“Here you are, will this sort me out?” Thrusting the notes into his hand, Jared folded his arms. Mr Frey looked down, then up, then back down at the money. He quickly counted the notes in a stack.

“There’s £20,000 here”. Jared’s stomach did an internal somersault - there was much more money per bundle than he thought. But hey, the more he could get rid of, the better.

“Yeah, I know. Interest for being late with rent. I’ll pay you as normal next month” A calculating part of Jared thought that maybe, after burying it, he could just keep returning to the bag to pay his rent.

“How’d you get this?”

“Doesn’t matter. You’ve got your money, so leave me alone”. That was enough to satisfy Mr Frey; a man whose greed drove him. Jared shut the door in his face, and spied through the peephole to see Mr Frey jumping for joy, before sprinting downstairs. At least that’s him distracted for a while.

Jared splashed his face in the sink and took a deep breath. He could do this - no, he had to do this. Once he was ready, he glanced at his watch - 9:45am. The store opened at 10, so he sat waiting on his bed, thinking about how life could carry on as normal after this. But he didn’t get chance to think for long.

The wailing sirens were distant at first, but now they were right below the house, just outside the entrance. Jared peered out of his window to see two officers entering the building.

Oh no.

Jared started hyperventilating – should he run? Should he just tell them everything, and wait for someone to shoot him? Footsteps boomed, the noise bouncing off the stairwell. Maybe he could hide under his bed? The voices were right outside his door now. Or maybe he could-

A knock at the door interrupted Jared’s racing thoughts.

“Sir, this is Oakwood police, can you come out please?”

Jared didn’t breathe.

“Sir, I need to ask you about Mr Frey”

Mr Frey?

Jared slowly walked to the door, and decided to unlock it.

“Sorry to bother you, I just wanted to ask if you knew whether Mr Frey was home?”

“Erm, he left about an hour ago, but if he’s back he’ll be in the penthouse” Jared tried not to look suspicious.

“Thank you”. The officers carried on upstairs, and Jared felt as if he’d dodged a bullet. Both relieved and confused, he kept the door open ever so slightly, ready to listen. But he wouldn’t have needed to with the noise that Frey made.

“David Frey, you’re being charged with possession of stolen goods, assault, and unlawful eviction”

Jared couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“What're you talking about?” Mr Frey writhed in the officer’s grip as they handcuffed him and led him downstairs.

“Does the name Lisa Kay ring a bell to you? The pregnant lady you assaulted and evicted? Or maybe the shiny new Toyota you bought with stolen money this morning?”

“He did this! He gave me that money!” Jared’s heart skipped a beat, as he saw Mr Frey pointing at his door through the peephole.

“Please, you expect us to believe he had £20,000 lying around when he lives in a place like this? Add pathological liar to the list, Ben” The officer rolled his eyes at his colleague.

“No, you have to believe me, I…”

Once he could no longer hear Mr Frey’s pleading, Jared slowly sat on the bed, drinking in his luck. Turns out Mr Frey was a worse man than he’d thought. Barely 5 minutes had gone by before Jared heard another knock at the door.

Looking through the peephole, he saw Eve smiling. He opened the door, thankful for a familiar face.

“Hey Jared, nice work! And with 3 hours to spare, too”

Jared stared, the confusion written on his face. Eve stepped inside, her heels clacking on the parquet floor.

“We needed someone to take the fall, and you chose the right guy. I knew you would”

“I don't understand…the money was yours?!” Jared felt his stomach drop.

“Not mine, per say, but my client’s. And he doesn’t want to go back to prison. Seriously though, Frey’s a bad guy – I knew you’d end up giving him money for rent, but wow, £20,000? No wonder he went on a shopping spree and incriminated himself”

Jared froze in disbelief, which soon turned to horror when he remembered the threat.

“Were you really going to kill me if I didn’t do what you said?"

“Again, not me per say. But yeah. Kept an eye on you with that notebook. Spine looks a little funny, don’t you think?” It was then that Jared noticed a small bulge in the book’s spine.

“What do you do for a living, Eve?” Jared whispered. He almost didn’t want to know the answer.

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you” She smirked, “Now, when I say get rid of it, I mean dump-it-in-the-sea get rid of it”

Jared shook his head frantically, “I’m not having anything to do with this anymore”

“Trust me, it's in your best interests. After all, your fingerprints are all over that money”

Jared gulped.

“Oh, and you can keep the Moleskine...it’s priceless” With a sly wink, she sauntered out, knowing she'd won.

In that moment, there was only one thought on Jared’s mind.

Family dinners would never be the same again.