Eye for an Eye (20 page)

‘Exactly! Don’t
you agree, Henri?’ She appealed to the older man, expecting his
support.

‘Ah, but when
you are trying to trap a wolf, you must think like a wolf, yes? It
is the sneaky, unexpected trick that will catch the sneaky thief, I
think.’

Robyn looked
disappointed.

‘So I have to
go on pretending to be a rich heiress, and cosy up to that
slimeball? Damn!’

‘How did the
cosying up go last night, Robyn?’ asked Mike. ‘You haven’t told me
how what happened with that couple he wanted you to meet.’

‘Kate and Alan?
Well they’re lovely people, really sweet, and Colwyn is all set to
have them sign over their entire retirement fund to him. He
introduced me as a confirmed investor, to convince them that they
are doing the right thing.’

‘Good grief!
How did you handle that?’

‘I choked on my
drink and escaped to the ladies room to think. While I was sorting
myself out, Kate came in, so I grabbed the chance to talk to her
alone.’

‘Good thinking,
but risky. What did you say to her?’

‘Ah, now that
was the tricky bit. I knew if I told her Colwyn was a fraud and a
criminal, she’d never have been able to pretend to him that she
didn’t know. She’s so sweet and innocent that her face is an open
book. So I tried a bit of reverse psychology. I said I was mad keen
to invest, and that even though my advisors had said that I should
have him checked out thoroughly, I wasn’t going to bother. How
could he possibly be a crook with those lovely blue eyes? I was
just going to sign all my money over to him without a second
thought. So what if he hasn’t been around very long - everybody has
to start somewhere.’

Henri nodded
approvingly and Mike leaned forward. ‘So, how did she react?’

‘She started to
look pretty thoughtful. I reckon she’ll put the brakes on their
deal while she gets a bit of checking done - hopefully that’ll buy
us the time we need to nail him.’

‘Oh well done,
Robyn!’

‘I think you
have all the sneakiness you need to catch this one, yes?’

‘Thank you,
chaps. I think it must have been your influence Henri, giving me
that sudden attack of conscience just now. Does he have that effect
on you too Mike?’

He coloured
slightly, to her surprise. ‘Not for many years, thank
goodness.’

Henri chuckled.
‘One day, mon ami, you can tell her all about your youthful
indiscretions. But today, we are not concerned with that. Let us
drink our coffee and chat awhile, then I will show your friend my
maple trees and the sugaring shack, yes?’

As it was
mid-summer there was no collecting going on, but Henri demonstrated
the process on a tree he had tapped back in the spring. Robyn was
fascinated to see the way the maple sap was collected from small
metal pipes hammered into the trees. A notch on the upper side of
the pipe held the handle of a tin collecting cup which would slowly
fill with sap as the liquid rose in the early spring.

‘How do you
know when to put the pipe into the tree?’

‘Ah, that’s
part of the secret. The old folks say to watch the snow drifts at
the fences. When they get below the top two rails you should go tap
because it’s almost too late. There is only a short time when the
sap rises strongly enough to gather - about two or three weeks. But
when the flow is good, you can gather it twice a day.’

‘What happens
to it then?’

‘I take it to
the sugaring shack and boil it down - come and see.’

The shed was
dim and sweet-scented. A large stove stood at one end, with a flat
pan hanging from the rafter above it.

‘I boil about
forty gallons of sap to get one gallon of syrup - or more if my
customer wants a thicker batch. So you see, Robyn, it takes a great
deal to make just a little syrup - which is why it costs so
dearly.’

‘It makes me
wonder how anybody discovered the process in the first place.
Wouldn’t it have been easier just to use honey as a sweetener?’

‘Ah, you are a
practical woman, and one who is unafraid of bees, I think. You look
for an efficient solution to a problem, at least where emotion is
not involved, yes?’

Mike caught her
eye and grinned.

‘He sees right
through you, doesn’t he? I got used to it years ago, but it still
makes me think twice before I visit just in case I’ve got something
to hide.’

‘Is that why
you have not been by for so long, Michael - you are leading a life
in the city that I would be ashamed of?’

It was Robyn’s
turn to chuckle as Henri raised an eyebrow at Mike.

‘Well if you
two are going to gang up on me,’ he complained, ‘I think I’ll go
home now. Robyn, I’m sure Henri would call you a cab to get you all
the way back into town.’

‘Oh blow it out
your ear! What makes you think you’d have a show of beating me back
to the van and driving off without me?’

‘Is that a
challenge?’

‘Oh Mike, don’t
be so silly. How could we possibly leave like that without saying a
proper goodbye and thank you to Henri!’

She quickly
shook Henri’s hand and whispered farewell, then sprinted towards
the van which was some distance away, leaving Mike standing
open-mouthed.

‘Don’t you
think you should go after her, Michael?’

‘Oh, she won’t
get far.’ He jangled the van keys in his pocket. ‘She’ll sidle back
in a minute looking all embarrassed. Anyway, thanks for a pleasant
afternoon, Henri, I promise I won’t leave it so long before I visit
next time.’

‘I think you
maybe won’t leave at all, mon ami, unless you hurry.’

A puff of
exhaust spurted from under the van. Mike looked at the keys in his
hand in disbelief.

‘How - ? She
hasn’t got the key!’

He started to
run, calling a hasty goodbye over his shoulder as the van began to
move.

He chased it
down the leafy driveway all the way to the gate, where Robyn sat
smugly waiting for him to come and open it.

‘So, can I give
you a ride back to the city, Mike?’

He leaned on
the edge of the driver’s window and caught his breath, then looked
at the wires protruding from under the dashboard.

‘What have you
done to my van?’

‘I just
hot-wired it Mike, don’t make such a fuss. Haven’t you ever lost
your keys and had to do that? Come on, get that gate open or we’ll
be here all day.’

He let her
through then closed it again, and pulled open the driver’s
door.

‘Out you get,
Robyn. You won that round, OK? Happy now?’

‘Perfectly,
thanks. But I’ll just slide across the seat here I think, instead
of getting out. I wouldn’t want you to drive off and leave me
behind.’

He grinned.
‘That’s a good call - it had crossed my mind. But just remember,
that’s two I owe you for. Don’t think for a moment that I’ve
forgotten that dunking in the bath, missy.’

‘Whatcha gonna
do about it, city boy?’ She paused thoughtfully. ‘Actually I don’t
know if I can call you city boy now that I’ve seen your country
background. We’ve got more in common than I thought.’

She glanced
across at him, feeling a spark of pleasure when he smiled back.

They buckled
their seat-belts and set off slowly along the rutted track to the
road.

‘I like your
friend Henri, even though it feels like your soul is under
inspection when he talks to you. How long have you known him?’

‘Most of my
life. He’s always been kind of a guiding light when things got
complicated, you know what I mean? He has a way of cutting to the
real truth of things.’

‘Yes, I noticed
that. It must be good to have someone whose judgement you can
trust, and who knows the real you.’ She looked at him searchingly.
‘I bet there aren’t many people who do. You’re the most private
person I’ve ever met.

He considered
her comment. ‘Yes, you’re probably right. Henri’s one-of-a-kind,
that’s for sure. I’d trust him with anything, and he would always
do what’s right.’

‘And he’s so
conveniently discreet, too. He didn’t give me any juicy details of
your “youthful indiscretions” but then again, he did say that you
would tell me all about them, didn’t he?’ She poked a finger at his
denim-clad arm.

‘Oh sure, and
he said “one day” too, didn’t he? That day is a long way off, I can
tell you that right now.’

‘Chicken!’

‘Snoop!’

‘Hey, you’re
the snoop mate, it’s your job. Mr professional nosey-parker.’

‘Oh sure, throw
that in my face,’ he said in mock-injured tones.

They drove on
in comfortable silence.

Back at the
township of Marmora, Robyn caught sight of a convenience store on
the main road.

‘Can we stop
for a tea and a pee, Mike?’

‘A what? Oh,
sure.’

He locked the
van and followed her into the shop, where he poured himself a
coffee from the dispensing machine while Robyn disappeared into the
restroom. He was selecting a cookie to go with it when he heard a
faint crash of breaking glass from outside, then the familiar sound
of his van engine.

Coffee splashed
to the floor as he sprinted towards the door, bursting out onto the
forecourt in time to see his van pulling out onto the main road
east towards Ottawa.

He ran back
inside to the counter.

‘Can I call the
cops to report a stolen van please, and is there a rental car
agency here in Marmora? If I’m quick I might be able to catch up
with it.’

‘Sure, you can
pick up a car right across the street - and I’ll call the cops for
you if you give me the details.’ The dumpy woman behind the counter
was quick to help, noting Mike’s van make and number then waving
him on his way.

‘You go get
‘em, honey! Our cops need a few more people around like you!’

Mike yelled
towards the washroom door as he ran.

‘Robyn! I’ll be
across the street at the rental car place. Get over there NOW!’

He raced over
the highway, cut through the red tape of the rental agency in
record time and looked around for Robyn. No sign of her. He briefly
debated going back to the convenience store but the need to
retrieve his van overcame everything else. Every second he waited,
it would be another mile further away and harder to catch up
with.

He threw
himself into the rental car and sped off in hot pursuit.

When Robyn came
out of the restroom she headed for the coffee dispenser, stepping
over the spilt cup on the floor with a frown. She poured herself a
coffee and looked around for Mike. Assuming he must be in the men’s
restroom himself, she sat down and sipped her drink.

Several minutes
passed.

She looked at
her watch. She finished her drink.

She called to a
man who had just come out of the men’s room.

‘Excuse me, is
there a guy still in there?’

‘No, it’s all
empty.’ He walked away, looking at her strangely.

Robyn went to
the counter and spoke to the dumpy woman.

‘Hi there, have
you seen the guy I came in with? Medium height, light brown hair,
wearing a blue denim shirt?’

‘Did he have a
white van?’

‘Er, yes,
that’s right, that’s the chap I’m looking for.’

‘Well he
doesn’t have one now!’ The woman chuckled at her own joke until she
saw the unamused look on Robyn’s face. ‘Oh, I’m sorry hon. He
didn’t say he was with anyone - he just rushed right on out of here
when he saw his van was being stolen. I reported it to the cops for
him.’

‘Stolen? Oh
hell’s teeth! Well, where did he go?’

‘He ran
straight over the road to the rental agency - I think he was going
to grab a car and chase right after them. Last I saw, he was
burning rubber heading down the highway.’

‘Bloody hell!’
Robyn exclaimed indignantly. ‘What did he expect me to do?’

‘Honey, I don’t
think you were on his mind at all.’ The woman shrugged. ‘You can
come wait in the back if you want, I guess he’ll turn up and get
you sooner or later.’

‘Thanks but no
thanks. I’ll just wait outside for a bit, and if he doesn’t show up
I’ll hitch back to the city and wait for him to turn up at home.
There’ll be plenty of traffic headed that way at this time of day,
won’t there?’

‘Sure, if you
want to take the risk.’

‘Oh what the
hell - it beats waiting round here like a lost dog. Thanks for your
help.’

Robyn went out
onto the forecourt to try her luck at hitching a ride.

After twenty
minutes she started to get bored.

On a trailer
outside the store there was a big sign with moveable letters,
proclaiming “BUY LOW COST MILK, CREAM HERE.” Robyn started to play
mental games with the letters, till a wicked grin lit her face. She
looked around, walked over to the sign, and made some changes. By
the time she’d finished, the sign read “SCREW YOU MIKE, LAME
CLOT.”

She walked away
from the scene of her crime and went further along the road to get
a better chance of picking up a ride.

After a while
she gave up waiting around and began striding out along the main
highway. The day was hot and very humid with little breeze to cool
the sweat from her face and body, so her clothes clung
unpleasantly. Cars and trucks zoomed past her as she walked on the
wide shoulder as far away from them as she could get. It was good
to be out in the open, with grass and trees around her instead of
streets and buildings, but many of the plants were unfamiliar and
made her feel strangely out of place. The air was moist, and laden
with a variety of small stinging, biting insects.

She looked with
interest at each farm she passed, trying to see how their farming
practices related to her own. Some of the fences surprised her with
their simplicity, and she realised what Henri had meant by
measuring the snow drifts to the top two rails. The cedar rail
fences were nothing but four lengths of roughly shaped timber laid
interspersed in a zigzag formation, with no posts dug into the
ground, no wires, battens or strainers. She was sceptical of their
value, until she thought a little harder and considered the
seasonal difficulties that farmers faced here. At least a rail
fence could be laid in the depths of winter when the ground was
frozen, or in the spring when everything was boggy from all the
melted snow. And with a photographer’s eye she noted that they were
pretty darn picturesque, too.