Eye for an Eye (25 page)

‘Hi Robyn.’ He
barely glanced round. ‘This is good stuff, but I’ll need to work on
it for a while before I can get a clear picture. Go on to bed -
I’ll see you in the morning.’

‘You’re not
going to work all night, are you?’

‘Might have
to.’ He stretched his arms and eased his neck.

‘Yes, all
right, but don’t bust your boiler, mate. You don’t want to run
yourself into the ground. So you got into the apartment OK?’

‘Yes, I went
prepared as a phone repair man, just in case. Just as well, since
he sent one of his goons to check out the apartment.’

‘What? Jeez,
you could have been caught red-handed! What did the guy say?’

‘I met him just
as I was heading out of the front door. I think I convinced him OK.
He checked my ID and didn’t seem to see me as a threat. Shouldn’t
be a problem.’

‘Yeah, as long
as Colwyn doesn’t find his computer’s been tampered with. If the
goon saw you, he’ll tell Colwyn you were in there and he’ll put two
and two together.’

‘Oh I doubt
Colwyn will notice. Nobody looks at their computer log. Relax, and
let me get on with this, will you?’

She made a face
at his back.

‘Well excuse me
for caring what happens to you.’

During the
night she heard the squeak of his chair as he worked on into the
small hours of the morning.

Next day Mike
emerged from the shower with a smile on his face. He had cracked
the code on Colwyn’s files and had enough evidence to construct a
strong case against him. The whole case was going so well that he
and Robyn would soon achieve their goal to get Colwyn Symons
incarcerated far away from his flash apartment and expensive
playthings. As soon as she came home from work, he’d take her out
for a drink to celebrate. Then she’d be able to fly home before her
plane ticket expired. His smile faded.

Harry reported
to Colwyn first thing in the morning.

‘She took the
subway across town to a street off Bathurst. Walked the last few
blocks to a basement apartment and let herself in with a key. There
was a light on and somebody was home already, I could see them
moving about.’

‘And this
apartment, did it look as if it belonged to affluent people? Was it
a good neighbourhood?’

Harry
frowned.

‘Hard to say,
Mr. Symons. It wasn’t a dump, but it wasn’t The Hilton either if
you know what I mean. Kind of in between, just an average sort of
place.’

‘Right. How
long did she stay?’

‘All night, I
guess.’

‘You
guess?’

Harry winced at
the chill in Colwyn’s voice.

‘Well, I stayed
watching the place, see - and it got pretty late, then all the
lights went out. I waited another hour in case they was just - you
know, havin’ sex or something, but she never came out again so I
figured she was staying the night.’

Colwyn raised
an eyebrow.

‘Interesting,
despite the gaps in your information. Now, what exactly did you
find here in my apartment last night? I couldn’t make out what you
were trying to tell me on the phone.’

‘I came up to
check like you asked, and there was a phone guy just leaving. He
said he’d fixed the problem so I eyeballed his ID and let him go.
Is everything OK?’

‘No, Harry, it
is not. Someone used my computer last night. Find out who this
so-called phone guy was and let me know, will you? We will have to
ask him some serious questions, once we know who he is. And
Harry…’

‘Yes Mr.
Symons?’

‘This was a
security breach that should not have happened. You understand?’

Harry started
to sweat.

‘Sorry Mr.
Symons - I’ll make it up to you sir - whatever you need, you can
count on me.’

‘I doubt that.
But I expect your best efforts nonetheless. As soon as you’ve found
out who the phone guy is, go back to that apartment, get inside and
find any information you can about Robyn Heverill, the girl you
followed there. Now get on with it, and do it right this time.’

CHAPTER
10

By lunch-time,
the heat of the day was sending clouds billowing into the sky.
Tyres hissed on sticky streets and ice-cream stalls were busy. Few
people sat in the enervating humid air outside, most had retreated
to the cool refuge of air-conditioned buildings.

In a brief
spare moment at work, Robyn thought about calling Mike. If he had
all the data he needed, then her job here in Toronto was done.
There was no way she was going to go anywhere near Colwyn again if
she didn’t have to. And if it was all over, leaving the city to
return to New Zealand’s crisp bright winter days would be a welcome
relief. This place was becoming increasingly hot and
uncomfortable.

She pulled out
her phone and rang Mike’s number.

There was no
answer.

She finished
decorating the games room set, and started to arrange the client’s
products and furnishings to match the art director’s sketch.

She watched
them shoot on her set that afternoon, and acted as assistant to the
photographer. Models came in to act as host and guests, cheerfully
posing for long stretches at a time under hot lights while the
props were arranged around them. Robyn found herself washing and
polishing glasses for half the day as each shot was repeated.

At last the
main shots were done, and there was one shot left to get in the
can. All the studio lights were turned off while the photographer
took a long exposure to catch the neon lights of the clock, phone
and jukebox, which would be superimposed over the flash-lit shot
for the final image on the brochure cover. Just as he was poised at
the top of the ladder, cloth over his head and camera held steady
on a massive tripod, and everyone was holding their breath for the
ten second shot, Robyn’s cell-phone shrilled loudly.

She cursed and
hurried away from the set, stumbling over cables and furniture in
the dark, trying to remove the disturbance as quickly as possible.
Once outside, she answered with bad grace.

‘Yes,
what?’

‘My goodness,
you don’t sound happy. Have I called at a bad time?’

‘Oh! No,
Colwyn, not at all, everything’s fine.’ She took a deep breath and
wrenched her attention from photography work to the role she was
supposed to be playing. ‘I say, it’s awfully warm today, isn’t it?
Are you having a good day, Colwyn? I hope you’ve found yourself
somewhere cool.’

‘My day would
be very much better if you were here, Robyn. Are you free to come
over this evening?’

‘Possibly, but
I, er, need to check with my cousin first in case she’s organised
something else. Were you thinking of a meal out somewhere?’

‘That could be
a possibility, yes. What time would you be able to get here?’

‘Ooh, about
half past six I should think. That’s assuming I can get free. Is
that OK?’

That would give
her time to check with Mike and find out if he needed any more
information from Colwyn’s apartment. She’d haul Colwyn’s ass out to
dinner again if she had to, but she wouldn’t enjoy it.

‘If that’s how
long I have to wait to see you, then so be it. I’ll hope to see you
at six-thirty then. Thanks Robyn, bye.’

‘Goodbye,
Colwyn.’

Thunder boomed
overhead as she rang off.

Robyn tiptoed
back to the set where the photographer was just coming down off the
ladder.

‘Sorry about
that,’ she apologised. ‘I haven’t got used to switching the thing
off yet.

He smiled
briefly.

‘Wait till
we’ve processed these trannies and checked them, then you can
strike the set - assuming we don’t need to re-shoot anything. It
looks good, you did a great job on it.’

She was sad to
dismantle her games room after all the effort she’d put into it,
but the space was already booked for a big Christmas scene. Once
she got the go-ahead, she packed away all the products into their
boxes, returned the studio’s props to the props room, and took a
crowbar to the bare walls. When the site was clear, she reported
back to Tony.

‘All done - the
games room has gone.’

‘Are all the
panels back in the storeroom?’

‘Yes, and all
the tools are put away as well.’

‘Good for you.
Now this Christmas thing, it’s going to take days to get it
together, right? When do you think they’re shooting it? Monday
morning. Jeez, you’d think the Art Department could have got its
act together a little earlier, wouldn’t you? It’s not as if
Christmas sneaks up and takes us by surprise, for heaven’s sake.
The thing is, they won’t let me give you the hours because of the
budget, so I get stuck with the late nights and weekend work to get
the damn thing done on time. Is that fair? I’ll probably be doing
late hours from now till November.’

‘Ouch, not fair
at all. But I don’t mind working a few extra hours - I’ll be happy
to get right on it now if you want?’

‘Nah, don’t
worry about it. Once those accountants get their hands on the
figures, the whole business goes to hell. They expect us to do the
work of ten men and pay for two. If we’re late it’s their own damn
fault for not giving us enough time.’

‘So what can I
finish out the day with, Tony? If you’ve got a sketch plan of the
Christmas set I can at least make a start on it for you.’

She hurried off
and was soon happily engrossed in laying out yards of fluffy white
polyester stuffing to make a base for the plastic snow.

Sprinting along
the street to Mike’s apartment after work, she was drenched by
pelting rain that splashed upwards as heavily as it fell from the
sky. Just as she reached the steps, hailstones the size of golf
balls began shattering on the sidewalk. She wrestled the door open
and flung herself inside out of range of the missiles.

There was
nobody home.

Once she’d
dried herself off, she poured herself one of Mike’s lemon vodkas to
ward off a chill, and was just relaxing with it when her cellphone
shrilled. She squinted at the screen and saw it was Colwyn calling
to confirm their 6.30 date. Going out with him again was the last
thing she felt like doing, but she figured it would give Mike one
more chance to get into Colwyn’s apartment if he needed to. She’d
leave him a note to say that Colwyn’s place would be empty later,
and could send him a text once they left the apartment.

She said yes to
Colwyn and hung up thoughtfully, trying to analyse the subtle
change in his tone to her. He hadn’t been quite as ingratiating as
usual - but perhaps he’d just had a bad day cleaning up after a
flooded dishwasher, or finding that his contact lenses stung his
eyes. She chuckled, and poured herself another drink.

Well this was
going to be the last time. And she wasn’t going to get all dollied
up for the occasion either. He could make do with her in jeans and
a blouse. Now that the storm had broken and the temperature was
dropping, it was no time to prance about in a party dress. She
might even have a couple of whiskies at dinner to warm her up a
bit.

She looked at
her reflection in the elevator on the way up to Colwyn’s apartment.
Presentable, but rather casual. Too bad if he was planning on
taking her somewhere flash.

He seemed
unconcerned at her appearance when he opened the door.

‘So glad you
could make it after all, Robyn. I thought we’d have a quiet night
at home for a change, and really get to know each other better.’
Her eyes widened, and she made an effort to change her look of
alarm to one of delight.

‘Wonderful!
What a lovely idea,’ she said hurriedly. ‘Just the two of us. How
nice.’

He ushered her
towards the sofa and went into the kitchen, returning with two
chilled glasses beaded with moisture, full of golden wine that
smelt as fragrant as new-mown hay. Robyn sipped it
appreciatively.

‘That’s superb.
Where is it from?’

‘It’s a local
vintage from the Niagara region. They’re producing wines with
stunning flavour profiles this season. Can you taste that
marvellous beeswax and ripe nectarine palate?’ He rolled the wine
around on his tongue and savoured the texture. ‘Creamy, but with an
intense lean finish, don’t you think?’

‘Oh,
absolutely.’

He caught the
faint dryness of her tone and laughed engagingly.

‘I’m sorry,
I’ve been going over the top haven’t I? I did tell you wines are a
special hobby of mine.’ He stood up, looking at her appraisingly.
‘Shall we sit out on the balcony and watch the sun set over the
lake?’ He offered a hand to help her to her feet. ‘If you think
you’ll be warm enough? I can lend you a sweater if you like.’

‘No, I’m fine,
really. It’s a lovely evening, isn’t it, now that the heat is out
of the day. I bet you see wonderful sunsets from up here, don’t
you?’

She stepped out
onto the balcony and instinctively turned to the left to look for
the sunset. Colwyn’s eyes narrowed a fraction.

She leaned on
the railing and admired the view.

‘What a lot of
yachts! Can you see your boat from here?’

‘Yes, just down
in that marina over there, see? It’s in the third dock along, next
to the one with the red sail cover.’

He was standing
so close that she could feel his breath on her hair as he pointed
out where to look, but she was more interested in the note of
disillusion in his voice when he spoke about the boat.

‘Have you been
out much lately? Boats are such fun, aren’t they?’

A frown
flickered across his face, disturbing his customary smooth
charm.

‘Well, usually,
yes - but my last couple of trips haven’t been very enjoyable.’

‘Oh yes, of
course, how silly of me to remind you of that horrid tummy trouble,
I’m awfully sorry. What happened the other time, did something else
go wrong?’