Eye for an Eye (9 page)

Back in her
hotel room, Robyn rinsed out the hair dye, and scrubbed the make-up
off her face, shuddering as the lurid blue eye shadow mingled with
streaks of mascara in the cracked basin.

‘God, how do
people wear this muck?’

A wicked grin
lit her squeaky clean face in the mirror.

‘Hey, that was
FUN! If only I could see his face when he saw that piece of
artwork! Now he’s a dick-head for all the world to see!’ She hooted
joyfully, picturing the embarrassment that awaited him when he had
to go to a real hair salon to repair the damage. ‘That’ll stop his
business meetings in their tracks for a while!’

Once her
clean-up was complete, she became aware that she was suddenly
ravenously hungry again, and that lunch was long overdue. She
checked her money, decided reluctantly that it would have to be
hamburgers once more, and set off for the nearest burger bar.

A few steps
from the hotel’s front door a pleasant-looking young man was
puzzling over a map of the city. Seeing Robyn he smiled shyly,
flicking soft brown hair back from his intelligent grey eyes.

‘Hi there, you
wouldn’t happen to know how to get to the Science Centre, would
you? I seem to have gotten myself kinda lost.’

‘I’d love to
help you, mate,’ she said regretfully, ‘but I’m a stranger here
myself I’m afraid. I wouldn’t know the Science Centre from a bar of
soap.’

Seeing his
forlorn expression, she took pity on him. ‘Doesn’t your map tell
you? Here, let’s have a look.’

They bent over
the map together, tracing the bus route that would get him from
Yonge Street to his destination part-way across town.

‘There you go,’
she said cheerfully, ‘it looks like it’s a piece of cake. Just get
on the bus up the road here, transfer to that route when you get to
that intersection, and Bob’s your uncle.’

He looked
confused.

‘You’re there.
Everything hunky dory. No problem!’

His face
cleared.

‘Ah, right.
Thanks, that was really helpful. I’ve always been hopeless with
maps.’ He paused, as if a thought had just occurred to him. ‘Look,
if you’re in town on vacation too, why don’t you come along? It’s
pretty high on the list of tourist activities, once you’ve done the
CN Tower and the Eatons Centre.’ He tilted his head appealingly,
allowing a lock of the soft brown hair to fall over one eye.

‘Well, I don’t
know,’ she hesitated. He seemed harmless, even rather cute in a
nondescript sort of way, but she was very hungry, and at that
moment lunch held more attraction than an encounter with a
stranger. ‘Actually I was just heading for something to eat.’

‘Great!’ he
said enthusiastically. ‘Let me buy you lunch - it’s the least I can
do to thank you for helping me with the map. Where would you like
to eat?’

The words
“there’s no such thing as a free lunch” flashed through her mind,
but she was too hungry to take any notice.

‘Well if you
insist - I was just going to grab a burger.’

‘Oh I think we
can do better than that. There’s a Toby’s round the corner, it’s
just as casual but the food’s a whole lot better.’

He escorted her
with surprising sureness to a small busy restaurant where they took
the last available table. Once they had placed their orders, he
held out his hand and smiled engagingly.

‘My name’s
Mike. And you are...?’

‘Robyn. Good to
meet you, Mike. Have you been in Toronto long?’

‘Long enough to
be confused, I guess. It’s too easy to get lost when you’re used to
a small town. Where are you from, Robyn?’

‘I’m over here
from New Zealand,’ she said proudly. ‘First time out of the
country.’

There was a
gleam of interest in his clear grey eyes.

‘So,’ he said,
leaning forward on the table, ‘what brings you to Toronto? I
thought you guys had the whole Pacific paradise to vacation
in.’

She looked into
his eyes and felt a brief nudge of recognition, but dismissed it as
impossible.

‘Well it’s not
just a vacation, actually.’ She wondered how much to admit to this
friendly stranger, but Mike’s silence and raised eyebrows seemed to
demand a fuller explanation. ‘I’ve come to Canada to look for
someone as well.’

‘Go on, tell me
more,’ he encouraged.

‘Aw, it’s a
long story, and a bit grim. You wouldn’t want to know.’

Her salad
arrived and she forked in a mouthful.

‘Aw yuck! Is
that what Caesar salad is supposed to taste like? It’s like warm
vomit over lettuce!’

Mike hid a
smile. ‘I suppose you could call it an acquired taste. Here, have
some of my fries instead if you like.’ He pushed the bowl towards
her. ‘So who is it that you’re looking for, Robyn?’

‘Oh, nobody
you’d know.’ She waved away his question. ‘It’s not important -
you’re on holiday, you really wouldn’t want to hear about it. Hey,
this steak is terrific, how’s yours?’

‘It’s fine. Now
come on, tell me who has brought you all the way from New Zealand
to Canada - is it a boyfriend?’

Robyn choked on
a mouthful of fries, spraying fragments across the table.

‘Oh God, no!
That bastard? I don’t think so!’

‘So you’re
looking for some guy because...?’

‘Because he’s a
thieving dick-witted low-life who stole from my family, OK? And I
do NOT want to talk about it!’ She felt sure she’d said too much
already. ‘Now thanks for lunch and everything, it’s been great but
I mustn’t take up any more of your sightseeing time. Have fun at
the Science Centre.’

She stood up to
leave the table, but Mike reached out and placed his hand firmly
over hers.

‘I really do
want to know, Robyn. Tell me about it, maybe I can help.’

His voice
carried such authority that she sat down again automatically and
began, reluctantly, to explain. Mike listened intently as she told
her story.

‘OK, if you
really want to know. Picture this then. There’s a kind, caring man,
getting on in years, he’s a farmer in difficult times with very
little money available. His wife is very ill and has some serious
medical bills. He doesn’t want to worry his two kids, so when he
hears of an investment advisor offering generous returns, he
empties the farm account and invests it all with him. Things don’t
go as well as he’d hoped so he takes out a fair-sized life
insurance policy just in case, to protect the farm and his kids if
the investments don’t earn enough before he dies. The advisor
pockets all the money, along with funds from dozens of other
people, and skips the country. The same slimy blond crook is later
seen on the news, enjoying a luxury lifestyle while his victims are
left penniless. The kind, caring man loses his wife, loses his
money, and ends up dead at the bottom of a cliff. The thieving
advisor buys himself a nice luxury yacht and sits in the sun,
enjoying the high life.’ Her voice grew cold. ‘I plan to make sure
his enjoyment stops.’ She drew in a breath and let it out slowly.
‘See? I told you it was a grim story.’

‘The kind,
caring guy was...?’

‘My Dad.’

‘Ah.’ He nodded
in comprehension. ‘And how do you plan to deal with the crooked
investment advisor?’

Her eyes lit
with evil intent. ‘In an ideal world, I’d take a welding torch to
his dick and burn it off inch by flaming inch. Then I’d suspend him
by his balls until they tore off, and serve them to him on toast.
Then I’d take...’

‘OK, OK, I get
the picture!’ Mike held up his hands. ‘I can see it would be a big
mistake to get on the wrong side of you! Now, given that this is
the real world and not your ideal one, what exactly have you got
planned?’

‘Oh I’ve
already started!’ She leaned across the table conspiratorially. ‘I
painted a purple dick on his head this morning.’

‘You did what?
How the heck did you manage that?’

She explained
her hairdressing subterfuge while Mike looked at her
thoughtfully.

‘Well, that was
inventive. I wonder how long it’ll take him to find out about it.’
They shared a smile till Mike grew serious again. ‘I can see how
that would make you feel better, but what about all the other folk
he’s stolen from? Wouldn’t it be better to prove him guilty of
fraud and let the law punish him? He wouldn’t enjoy the high life
in jail, trust me.’

‘Oh sure,’ she
said bitterly. ‘If you could prove it, fine. The investigators in
New Zealand couldn’t prove a damn thing. He ripped off dozens of
people, got all the dough he could lay his filthy hands on and then
buggered off overseas and no-one can touch him for it. Insufficient
evidence, apparently. The Kiwi cops can’t do a thing. So I came
over here to deal out some natural justice myself.’

‘Have you
thought about the risk?’

‘Sure, but I’m
damned if I’ll let it stop me! What if he does it again? How many
more innocent people are going to lose all their savings if he
thinks he can get away with it - if nobody tries to stop him? It
just isn’t FAIR!’ She thumped the table in emphasis.

Other diners’
heads turned and conversations stopped. Robyn held a glass of iced
water to her flushed face and breathed deeply.

‘Perhaps you
need to beat him at his own game?’ suggested Mike, his voice quiet
and persuasive. ‘What if you could get close enough to him to
collect proof of what he’s doing? If you could get hard evidence
that would stand up in court, then he’d lose all his assets here
and would probably be deported back to New Zealand to serve his
sentence.’

She brightened.
‘Cool! I like that idea - although he’s probably got more assets
squirreled away back in New Zealand that nobody knows about. Still,
if he’s in jail that won’t matter, as long as he’s too old to enjoy
them when he gets out! And once we get him well-known as a criminal
and a con-man it’ll be a hell of a lot harder for him to rip off
any more poor suckers, eh?’ She paused, running back through what
he’d just said. ‘Hang on a minute, mate. What do you mean, "get
close enough to him to collect proof"? You mean get friendly with
him and socialise?’ She snorted. ‘What makes you think I’d have a
chance of getting close to him without giving the game away? I
managed it as a hairdresser, but that was just for a few minutes.
Any longer than that and I couldn’t keep up the pretence. He’d know
damn well that I hate his guts. There’d be some serious negative
vibes going on that I’d have no way of controlling.’

‘Then we’ll
have to teach you a few acting techniques, won’t we?’ Mike’s grey
eyes were alight with enthusiasm.

She stared at
him, baffled.

‘Don’t get me
wrong, I appreciate your concern and all that, but really, what’s
this got to do with you?’

‘I was
wondering when you were going to ask me that.’ He smiled and slid a
business card across the table.

‘Michael C.
Kent, fraud assessor, Toronto.’ She looked up, puzzled. ‘So you’re
not here on holiday? Why were you pretending to be a tourist, when
you work here?’

He gave her a
few moments to reach her own conclusion.

‘What, just to
get me to talk to you?’ She eyed him suspiciously. ‘That’s a bit
weird isn’t it? Do you usually lie to people you’ve only just
met?’

‘Well I needed
to find out what your connection was to Colwyn Symons before –‘

‘You know him?’
she burst in. ‘You’re already investigating him? That’s great! What
have you got so far, anything we can arrest him for?’

‘No, not yet -
although public display of obscenity sounds possible after what
you’ve done to him,’ he grinned. ‘No, he covers his tracks very
well, and the only way to get evidence would be to get access to
some of his files, and I can’t do that without breaking into his
apartment. That would make the evidence inadmissible, and besides,
once I did that he’d know I was onto him and would just
disappear.’

‘Hang on, back
up a bit.’ Robyn was still confused. ‘How did you know I was
connected to Colwyn Symons, anyway?’

‘By your
T-shirt, actually, the one with his picture on it. I saw you at the
marina.’

‘Did you?’ She
frowned, then shrugged. ‘OK, if you say so. How come you’re
investigating him? What tipped you off?’

‘He made an
insurance claim but something about the case didn’t ring true. The
insurance company hired me to find out what really happened. That
led to rumours of some investment scams, and now you’ve confirmed
it. The question is, are you willing to help nail this guy?’

‘I’d nail his
pelvis to a cake-stand!’ she growled. ‘OK, what do we do, pose as a
rich couple seeking to invest their family fortune?’ She looked him
up and down. ‘I suppose you’d be all right as a husband.
Decent-looking, pretty smart, no visible flaws. Why not? Let’s do
it.’

He sighed.
‘That’s not quite what we need, eh. When I said you’d need to get
close to him, I meant really close. You’d need to get access to his
business files, his bank statements, all that sort of thing. So
while I’m pleased to pass as your husband, I’m afraid I don’t want
you as my wife. You’d have to be his girlfriend.’

She leapt to
her feet. ‘Oh for God’s sake, you must be stark raving bonkers!
That prick? I’d have to - ugh, no way! Never in a million years!
Look, thanks for a good feed Mike, but no deal. I’ll sort him out
my own way. See ya.’

She left him
looking speculatively after her while the waitress cleared their
table.

CHAPTER 4

Later that day
she rang Pete to tell him about the latest developments and Mike’s
suggestion. He too was dubious about the wisdom of getting too
close to Colwyn Symons.

‘You’ve no idea
what you’d be getting yourself into, Rob. And how long would all
that take? You’re only there for a couple of weeks, aren’t you? How
close could you get to him in that time? Surely this Mike character
has got someone else he can ask to do it?’