Once a Killer by Martin Bodenham

she was used to his running commentary while she was trying to work.
    There was a knock at the front door.
    “Get that, Danny,” shouted his mother from the kitchen. “And if it’s Mr. Barado, tell him I’m not in, but I’ll definitely have it for him next week.”
    “She’s drunk the rent money again,” said his sister in a monotone voice, without looking up.
    Danny shook his head and rose to his feet.
    Another knock at the door, but this time much louder.
    “Danny. I’m not going to tell you again.”
    The aggression in his mother’s voice needed no further explanation. She’d already deprived him of dinner this evening for reasons unknown to him, and he was not about to give her the satisfaction of another beating. Danny slapped his forehead when the wheel spun round to “BANKRUPT” and then ran to the front door of the apartment. There was no one in view through the wire-reinforced glass-top section of the door. Shrugging his shoulders, he turned to go back to the living room.
    “They’ve gone, Mom.”
    Then another knock. Danny spun around, unbolted the two locks, and opened the door. Rondell was standing there. He’d been hidden by the lower wooden panel.
    “Danny Boy. You coming out?” he asked, rolling his head with each word.
    “It’s after seven. She’ll never let me.”
    “Come on, man. It’s my birthday today.”
    “Hold on.” Danny turned toward the kitchen and shouted, “It’s Rondell, Mom. Wants to know if I’m allowed out.”
    “You know what time it is,” said the loud voice from the kitchen. “You’ll have to see him tomorrow.”
    “But it’s his tenth birthday today. Please, just a few minutes.”
    “Half an hour, Danny. You know what will happen if you’re late.”
    “Thanks, Mom.” Quickly he pulled the door closed and rushed out, in case she changed her mind.
    Both boys started walking along the corridor toward the central block where the elevators were located. “The Seeds of Love” by Tears for Fears was blaring out of the apartment three doors down from where Danny lived.
    Danny rolled his eyes. “He’s at it again.”
    Rondell looked at his friend. “Don’t you get sick of hearing that?”
    “You get used to it. That one’s not too bad. When he’s drunk, the Elvis records come out. Those, you don’t want to hear.”
    Rondell kicked the apartment door and then ran off. Danny shook his head and followed. By the time the door opened, they had disappeared around the corner into the lobby, where Rondell pressed the button to summon the elevator. There was not a single inch of wall space free of graffiti, and the dimly lit area smelled of urine and tobacco.
    “That wasn’t funny.” Danny had his hands on his hips.
    “Come on. Lighten up. It’s my birthday.” Rondell pressed the button again.
    “Did you get any candy?”
    “Sure.” Rondell took out a Snickers bar from his coat pocket and threw it at his friend.
    “Thanks.” Danny devoured it in three bites. At least that would stave off his hunger for a while. “What else did you get?”
    Rondell looked down at his own feet. He was wearing a brand new pair of white Nike trainers. “What do you think?”
    Danny tilted his head with approval. “Very nice. Who bought those for you?”
    “My uncle. Even took me down to Walmart to let me choose them myself.”
    “They look expensive.”
    “The best.”
    “That was nice of him.”
    Rondell looked at Danny and smiled. “He didn’t buy them, stupid.” He pressed the button a few more times in quick succession.
    “Come on. I think they’re broken again.” Danny started heading for the staircase.
    Rondell turned his back to one of the elevator doors and kicked it several times with the sole of one of his new trainers, adding to the dents already on the steel doors. “I don’t know how you live with them not working fourteen floors up,” he said when he caught up with Danny.
    “Happens every week. My mom hates it when she has to walk up with