Eye for an Eye (24 page)

It would give
Mike that much more time to get away safely.

‘Well actually,
Robyn, I was hoping that I could spend some quiet time with you,
alone. Just the two of us. I don’t want to share you with the big
city, I want you all to myself.’ He gave her a look full of soulful
yearning. ‘Is that so hard to understand?’

She blinked.
‘No, of course not. But we could go dancing first, couldn’t we?
Just for a little while? And you just said I’m impossible to say no
to, didn’t you?’

He smiled
ruefully. ‘Hoist with my own petard, alas. Very well, my lady, I
shall take you dancing at the glitziest club in Toronto to show off
that fabulous sparkling dress of yours to the whole city. And then
I shall take you back to my private apartment where we can quietly
and slowly find out more about each other. Is it a deal?’

‘Colwyn, you
have a deal,’ said Robyn, confident that she would be able to make
her excuses and go home as soon as they had been away long enough
for Mike to have made his escape.

At that moment
she would have promised Colwyn an oral sex marathon on top of the
CN Tower if it would keep him where she wanted him.

Harry put down
the phone and belched gently, tasting onion from the hamburgers his
wife had cooked him for supper. He stretched and levered himself
out of his swivel chair. He was pleased. Doing jobs for Colwyn
Symons was a smart career move. Anyone could see that guy was going
straight to the top, and Harry planned to be right there with him.
He’d take care of all those tricky little jobs that needed doing.
He was good at that.

He picked his
teeth thoughtfully in the elevator, staring up at the tiny lens of
the security camera and raising a middle finger salute to it as the
doors opened at the top floor.

As he bustled
along the corridor towards Colwyn’s apartment, anticipation
stretched his blubbery lips in a grin. He fished a set of keys from
his pocket and readied the one he needed.

The apartment
door opened and a guy in grey coveralls came out, placing his
toolbox on the floor while he checked that the door was locked
behind him.

‘Who the hell
are you?’ demanded Harry.

Mike spun
around, almost losing his heavy spectacles.

‘Phone guy,
sir. There was a report called in about a faulty line so I came
right away. Are you Mr. Symons? Your phone is fine now sir - just
had us a loose connection in the junction box. Fixed all them wires
up real good so it won’t happen again.’

‘Lemme see some
ID.’

‘Sure, here you
go.’ He handed over a laminated card with a photograph and identity
number, which Harry looked at closely. The thick glasses and
out-dated hair-style seemed to match the nerd in front of him, and
the card itself looked genuine.

‘How long have
you been in there?’

‘Just long
enough to do the job right, sir. Those false alarm signals can be
hard to track down but I got it fixed OK. Is there anything else
you need?’

‘No, that’s
all…Michael.’ Harry handed back the ID card. ‘Make sure you sign
out when you leave the building, all right?’

‘Sure thing,
Mr. Symons. You have a good night now.’

Mike pushed his
glasses further up on his nose, lifted his tool box, and clutched
it under his arm as he moved towards the elevator.

Harry watched
him leave then entered the apartment. Everything was tidy, except
for a few wire clippings on the floor beneath the phone wall
socket. He picked up the phone and looked at it suspiciously but
could see nothing wrong.

He called
Colwyn to let him know the line was working.

‘Your phone is
fine, Mr. Symons.’ Loud music assaulted his ear as he struggled to
hear Colwyn’s reply.

‘I said your
phone is fine, it’s working now! No, there’s nobody here now.
Nobody here! OK, bye!’

He rubbed his
ear as he replaced the handset. Wherever Mr. Symons was, he’d be
suffering a hearing loss if he didn’t get out of there soon.

The same
thought had occurred to Robyn. While she enjoyed the way the
dance-floor lights sparkled off her shimmering blue dress, there
were limits to the level of noise she could endure and they had
been exceeded for some time. When she saw Colwyn looking relieved
after taking a call on his cell-phone, she guessed that there had
been no messages about a break-in at his apartment so it would be
safe for him to go back there. Alone.

She put her
hand on his arm and nodded towards the door. He nodded back, and
they made their way through the press on the dance-floor, between
the closely-packed tables, and out into the cool fresh air in the
street. Robyn sucked in great breaths and huffed out all the stale
air in her lungs.

‘Phew! That was
fun, but not quite what I was expecting. You were right, Colwyn, we
should have gone straight back to your place - it would have been a
lot easier on the ears.’

‘Well let’s
make up for lost time then, shall we?’ He hailed a cab and ushered
her into the back seat, using a little more force than she was
expecting.

Knowing they
only had a short distance to travel, she began to prepare her
excuses.

‘Gosh, that
music has given me quite a headache. How are you feeling,
Colwyn?’

‘I’m very well,
thank you. And don’t worry, I can fix that headache for you. I have
some wonderful Chinese medicine that will get rid of it in minutes.
As soon as I get you home I’ll give you a dose and you’ll feel like
a box of birds in no time.’

‘Oh, that’s
kind, thank you.’

She sat
silently, racking her brain for another excuse to leave. Colwyn
seemed different but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

There had been
a light shower or two while they were at the club, and the cab
tyres sang on the wet pavement. Neon signs reflected in the
puddles, casting a kaleidoscope of colours across the car’s
interior. Colwyn’s face appeared alternately warm then cold with
each wash of light.

Robyn
shivered.

The cab pulled
up outside the apartment building. Colwyn paid the fare. Robyn sat
unmoving for so long that he leaned back inside.

‘What are you
doing, Robyn?’

‘Actually, I
think I’d rather go straight up to my cousin’s apartment, if that’s
all right. My headache is getting worse quite quickly and I’d feel
better if I could just crawl into bed. Sorry to be a party pooper,
but I really should be going.’

‘I can’t let
you go home like this, Robyn. Not without giving that medicine a
chance to fix you up. Come on up with me and I’ll make you feel
better, I promise.’

He put an arm
round her and pulled her out of the cab. She considered protesting
and calling on the cab driver for assistance but he was already
driving away looking for his next fare.

Despite her
misgivings, she allowed Colwyn to take her up to his apartment.

‘Now sit
yourself down on the couch and I’ll get you the magic potion.’

He disappeared
into the bathroom, then went to the kitchen where she heard him
running water and stirring something in a glass. He reappeared and
handed her a small glass of brown liquid with bits of dried herbs
spinning slowly through it.

‘Drink that
down, and in ten minutes your headache will be all gone. Trust
me.’

There was
nowhere she could tip it. He stood over her watching every
move.

She sniffed it
cautiously and took a sip. It was not unpleasant, in fact the
flavours were oddly familiar, she just couldn’t quite identify
them. Colwyn stood there until she drained the glass, then he made
her lie down and fetched a rug to put over her.

‘You stay there
for a while, close your eyes, and I’ll be back when you’re all
better. I just need to make a couple of phone-calls. Relax, OK?
Comfy?’

She nodded.
‘Fine, thanks. You go ahead.’

He went into
his bedroom and shut the door.

As soon as she
heard the sound of his voice, she threw back the rug and tiptoed
into the kitchen. She eased open one cupboard door after another,
until she found what she was looking for. There all pushed together
on the spice shelf were a foil sheet of soluble aspirin, a bottle
of soy sauce and a packet of dried mint. She grinned. Not a bad
attempt at Chinese medicine, but he should have used a less obvious
herb for someone who’d grown up on roast lamb. At least he hadn’t
fed her anything that would cause nasty side effects.

She closed the
cupboard quietly and looked under the sink, searching for something
to make his life miserable with. Cleaners? Soaps? Dishwasher
powder? An idea presented itself.

She eased open
the dishwasher and poured some liquid soap into the bottom, out of
sight.

When she
checked, Colwyn was still talking quietly in his bedroom so she
ventured into his bathroom. The cabinet was slightly open, inviting
her to peek inside. Her eyes gleamed. Top shelf, contact lens
solution. Bottom shelf, toilet cleaner. She imagined the agony of
caustic cleaner on his eyeballs, searing and burning as the optic
nerve was destroyed - but she caught herself in time. He would know
who had been in his bathroom with the opportunity to do such a
thing. Her acts of revenge would have to be more subtle, more like
an unfortunate twist of fate.

She unscrewed
the top of his lens solution and poured in a few drops of shampoo.
Nothing too noticeable, but enough to sting his eyes every time he
used it. Then she took the top off his cologne, and marched
purposefully towards the toilet. A little golden liquid poured
away, a little golden liquid to top it up - he’d never know. But
she would. And hey, maybe it would make it smell better. She
recapped the bottle and put it back on the shelf.

The voice in
the bedroom stopped.

Robyn flew back
to the couch and lay down, pulling the rug over her just as Colwyn
came in.

‘Are you
feeling better now? Headache all gone?’

‘Almost. That
stuff must be pretty amazing - where did you get it?’

‘There’s a
Chinese emporium just off Spadina, it has all kinds of things
imported direct from mainland China, and a special medical section
where you can get something for whatever ails you. An old Chinese
guy figures out what you need and makes it up specially for you.
It’s quite expensive, but worth it when it works so well, don’t you
think?’

‘Oh,
absolutely. I’ve never had a headache go away so fast.’

‘That’s great.’
He sat on the couch beside her. ‘Now then, Miss Heverill. I think
there’s something you haven’t been telling me, isn’t there?’ His
eyes held hers, watching her expression to judge the truth of her
reply.

‘Actually yes,
you’re quite right.’

‘I am?’ He sat
back in surprise. ‘Well perhaps you could share your secrets with
me then. If we are to be partners - and I hope we are - then I
don’t think we should hold back from each other.’

‘Oh no, you’re
wrong there. I firmly believe that a woman needs an element of
mystery to keep a man’s interest.’ She knew she was skating on thin
ice, but hoped that some fancy footwork would keep him from seeing
the cracks. ‘If you know everything too soon, there’s no incentive
to keep on exploring, is there? Let’s just say that you don’t know
all the details about me, but you can have fun trying to find out,
OK?’ She did her level best to inject a flirtatious tone into her
voice, and lowered her lashes prettily.

‘I’m not sure I
can accept that. If we are going to enter into a relationship,
either business or personal, I need to know who I’m dealing with.
I’ve been entirely up-front with you, Robyn. I’d appreciate it if
you would do the same.’

‘I will, when
the time is right, I promise you. You’ll hear the whole story in
full. But until then, you’ll just have to keep guessing. And on
that note, I think I’ll disappear into the night to maintain my
aura of mystery.’

She dropped the
rug across his legs and crossed swiftly to the door.

‘Goodnight,
Colwyn, thank you for a lovely evening and for curing my headache.
Until next time!’

She blew him a
kiss from the doorway and made a quick exit.

Going down in
the elevator she grinned to herself, but then shivered again. There
was something about Colwyn that made her feel deeply uncomfortable,
even though it was she who had the upper hand.

Down in the
foyer, Harry was watching her all the way on the security camera’s
video screen.

Once she had
left the building he slipped out after her, just as Colwyn had
ordered. He was half a block behind her as far as the subway
station. He was in the next carriage on the train, watching her
through the narrow windows at the end of the car as they rocked
along the track. He was there in the shadows as she unlocked the
door of Mike’s apartment and disappeared inside.

She never saw
him.

Colwyn switched
on his computer to check his e-mail. As the start-up screen
flickered past, a figure caught his eye and he frowned. The log
showed that the last time the computer had been used was earlier
that evening, when he and Robyn had been across town sitting in a
restaurant. He searched through his files with mounting agitation.
Everything appeared to be intact, but the thought of someone
gaining access to his data was extremely disturbing. Sweat broke
out on his forehead, and he felt uncomfortably short of breath.
Even though his critical information was coded, it could be
dangerous in the wrong hands. And any hands but his were the wrong
hands.

Mike’s hands
flew across the keyboard as he analysed the data he’d gathered from
Colwyn’s computer. He barely heard the sound of Robyn’s key in the
lock as she came in, and jumped when she spoke to him.

‘Hi Mike, how
did you get on? Sorry to give you a fright there. Have we got
enough to nail the bastard? Tell me I don’t have to go back there
any more, will you? He’s starting to give me the willies.’