Eye for an Eye (10 page)

‘Yeah, of
course he must have - though I bet they wouldn’t be as motivated as
I am. You know, it would be a hell of a challenge, wouldn’t it?’
Robyn sounded wistful. ‘It would be cool to beat that bastard
Colwyn at his own game and con him into believing I was smitten by
him.’

‘Fat chance,
sis - you’re no actress! You haven’t got a devious bone in your
body. There’s no way you could be convincing as a rich guy’s
plaything!’

‘I could so!
Mike was going to teach me some acting stuff - he thought I could
do it.’

‘Yeah? He must
be desperate then! No, give it up, Rob. No Academy awards for you,
girl.’

‘The hell! I’m
going to bloody do it - you just watch! I’ll call you from his
apartment in a couple of days, betcha twenty bucks!’

‘No! Don’t you
dare even think about it!’ Pete’s voice squawked tinnily from the
phone as she removed it from her ear. ‘Listen to me, Robyn Mav-’
The rest of her name was lost as she hung up on him. Well, he’d
practically dared her, hadn’t he? And she’d never turned down a
dare. She fished Mike Kent’s card from her purse and dialled the
number.

‘Yo, Mike?
Robyn Taylor. About your idea for getting to Colwyn Symons. Let’s
bust some fraudulent ass. If you’re game to take me on and teach
me, I’m all yours.’

‘Well done,
Robyn!’ His voice was warm and encouraging. ‘I’m glad you’ve had a
change of heart. Let’s meet up and discuss some possibilities. Are
you free now? Can you find your way to the subway? The nearest
station to you is King. Head north to Bloor, change for Bathurst,
get off there and walk to Croft Street. I’ll meet you in the Croft
St Café in half an hour.’ He sounded so pleased and enthusiastic
that Robyn felt her spirits rising already. She wrote down his
instructions for finding the meeting place and set off to catch the
subway north at King station.

While standing
on the platform, she suddenly smelt a rush of warm metallic air
from the dark tunnel and stood well back as the silver train rushed
past her. As it slowed, people around her surged forward, pushing
their way on board when the doors opened. Disembarking passengers
struggled to thread between them, heaving their bags or cases as
best they could.

Robyn found
herself a seat just inside the door and looked around with wide
eyes. She had seen subway scenes in the movies and on TV plenty of
times, but it was a whole different feeling to be there in person.
She looked at the overhead maps and read the adverts, then darted
quick glances at her fellow passengers. They came in every colour
of the human rainbow, black, white, yellow, and a dozen different
shades of brown. Snatches of foreign languages drifted past her,
along with the scent of many different spices exuded from sweating
pores. It was both fascinating and unsettling at the same time.

When the train
stopped at College Station, she turned towards the window and was
startled by a fierce face just inches from her own, masked and
threatening. Her breathing eased as she realised it was part of an
ice hockey mural on the station wall.

She changed
trains at Bloor, switching to the westward line which took her to
Bathurst Station. From there it was just a short walk to Croft
Street where she found Mike Kent waiting in a quiet coffee shop. He
rose from his seat as she came in, smiling with a warmth that made
his grey eyes light up.

‘Hey, Robyn,
it’s great you could make it. What made you change your mind?’

‘You can blame
my brother Pete for that. Any time he said I couldn’t do something
as a kid, I had to go right out and do it to prove him wrong. When
I told him about your idea he said straight away there was no way I
could carry it off successfully. So naturally, here I am.’ She eyed
him sternly. ‘You’d better be able to pull this off, Mike. Pete’s a
world champion at gloating if I get things wrong.’

Mike chuckled.
‘I have a sister who’s just the same – I know what you’re up
against. We’d better get down to business and make sure you can
ensnare our golden boy into letting you into his life.’

She looked down
at herself. ‘Well, I think I’ve got all the right equipment to do
it.’

He eyed her
judiciously. ‘Ye-es, you have, but it may need a bit of
polishing.’

Her jaw
dropped. ‘Polishing? Whadda ya mean, polishing?’

‘Oh hey, no
offence Robyn, I just meant that you might need a more
sophisticated hair style, some make-up, that kind of thing. If
you’re going to move in the sort of social circles that Colwyn
Symons does, you’re going to have to look the part, aren’t
you?’

‘I suppose so,’
she said gloomily. ‘I’ve always despised dolly-birds, now it seems
I’ve got to be one. So, where do we start?’

‘Hair, I think.
A friend of mine has a salon just around the corner. We’ll go and
pay her a visit.’

‘Now? Right
now? Won’t we need an appointment?’

‘No, it’ll be
fine. Cherie owes me a favour. Come on, it won’t take long.’

Robyn allowed
herself to be guided into a small salon, where she saw Mike and
Cherie exchange glances as he explained what he needed.

‘Bit of a
challenge, am I?’ she asked sweetly.

‘No, not at
all!’ said Cherie hastily. ‘We’ll just look at a few pictures to
choose a style for you, eh?’

They flicked
through a style book, with Robyn pulling faces and making critical
remarks about the models on every page.

‘Yuck! No. Ugh.
That one’s a mess. God, look at her! Not bad. That one looks like
she just got out of bed. Oh no way! God, look at this one! What a
slut!’

‘Perhaps go
back to the one that’s “not bad”?’ suggested Mike, after several
more pages had provoked unfavourable comments from Robyn. Cherie
found the page and looked at Robyn’s hair critically.

‘Yes, she could
carry that style. What do you think, Mike – is that what you were
looking for?’

‘Yeah, that
should be fine. OK, go ahead with that one.’

‘Hello?’ cooed
Robyn. ‘I’m still here. Do I get a say in this?’

‘Of course you
do,’ soothed Mike. ‘Will this style suit you, madam?’

‘How the hell
should I know? I’ve never had my hair any other way but this. Oh
well, I suppose we’ll just have to try it and hope for the best.’
She settled back in the chair with a “do your worst” expression on
her face.

Cherie expertly
tipped her backwards, washed her hair and towelled it dry, before
beginning to shape the style. The scissors flew, scraps of blonde
hair fell, and Robyn kept her eyes firmly closed.

‘So, how have
you been, Mike?’ asked Cherie. ‘Do your wigs need any styling?’

‘No, they’re
fine, thanks. I haven’t used the black one lately, and the grey
one’s better the worse it looks.’

Robyn eased one
eye open. Wigs? Why would Mike have wigs?

‘Caught plenty
of bad guys lately?’

‘Never enough,
Cherie. There are always more out there.’

Robyn nodded,
feeling it was time they remembered she was there.

‘You got that
right. But at least we’ll fix one of them between us, eh?’

‘So you’re
working with Mike, eh?’ Robyn thought she detected a hint of
jealousy in Cherie’s tone.

‘Oh,
unofficially - we both happen to be after the same guy. We only met
today.’

Cherie’s face
cleared. ‘Well I guess we’d better make you stylish enough to catch
that fella you’re after.’ She fluffed Robyn’s hair up with the blow
drier, and all three of them surveyed the effect.

‘How’s that?’
asked Cherie.

‘Damn good!’
said Mike.

‘Bloody hell!’
said Robyn. Her transformation to a blonde sophisticate was even
more startling than her brief appearance as a redhead, and very
much nicer.

Mike thanked
Cherie, and drew Robyn to a quiet corner where he pulled out a pen
and paper and started to make a list.

‘Now, let’s
think about what you’ll need to wear. Some smart casual clothes,
and a couple of really stunning dresses for formal occasions…’

‘Whoa, hang on
a minute, mate! I can’t afford to go spending money here there and
everywhere. The hotel is using up most of my travel budget. This is
a shoestring operation, low-budget, no spending, OK?’

‘Don’t worry, I
can charge most of this as part of my investigating expenses.’

Robyn frowned.
‘Do you really think this will work?’

‘There’s no
reason why it shouldn’t, as long as you can be convincing enough.
And with a little acting coaching, that should be no problem.’

‘OK, if you say
so. You must be a hell of a good drama coach. Have you done much of
this sort of thing before?’

‘A little
amateur theatrics, that’s all. Performed in a couple of shows,
directed a few, did some backstage work here and there.’ He waved
it off as insignificant. ‘What about you, Robyn? Have you performed
on stage at all, in a school play perhaps?’

‘I didn’t have
much chance for that sort of thing. I grew up on a farm way out in
the wilds of the Marlborough Sounds, did school by correspondence
with my older brother, and we only had each other for company.
Finished up at boarding school in Picton but all I did there was
sports. Sorry, I don’t know anything about acting.’

‘That’s all
right, it’ll be easier to teach you if you haven’t got any bad
habits already.’

‘Well I don’t
know about that…’

‘I meant bad
acting habits.’

‘Ah.
Right.’

He grinned.
‘Let’s go and pick you out some clothes - it’ll help you get into
the character we’re aiming for.’

He marched her
down Spadina Avenue, where boutiques and tailors jostled cheek to
cheek along the wide tree-lined street. She felt a jolt of panic
but tried not to resist as he pulled her into a glamorous fashion
retailer where the window display alone was enough to make her run
a mile.

‘Just hold this
against you,’ he said, plucking a striped T-shirt from the rack.
‘It should be perfect for going out on his boat.’

Robyn agreed,
then gasped as she looked at the price tag. ‘That’s ridiculous! I
could get ten of these from the discount store for this price. How
can anyone charge that much for a T-shirt?’

‘Sshh! Do you
think Colwyn Symons would be impressed by someone wearing clothes
from the discount store? This is bait to catch a marlin, not a few
sprats for the cat.’

She scowled,
but accepted his advice. ‘As long as I don’t have to pay for it. I
have to say, I resent spending money for his entertainment but if
that’s what it takes, who am I to argue with the expert? So, what
else can we tempt him with?’

‘You’ll need
some skirts, blouses, and a formal dress or two - here, try this
on.’ He handed her a severely-cut black cocktail dress and she
disappeared into the changing room with a doubtful expression.
After some struggling, she had just concluded that the dress was
made for a contortionist when a willowy sales assistant pulled back
the curtain.

‘Good
afternoon, madame. Do you need some assistance with the dress?’

Robyn squeaked
with surprise and spun round. ‘Ah, yes please. I can’t seem to get
it done up.’ A hot flush spread up her body, making her face glow
like a baboon’s bottom.

‘But of course,
this model is not designed for someone to dress in alone.’ The
assistant swiftly pulled the dress straight and fastened the
zipper. ‘Madame is pleased with the effect, yes?’

‘Madame is
having trouble with the whole idea of wearing such a dress, to tell
the truth. Excuse me, I’d better seek a second opinion.’

She evaded the
assistant and sought to catch Mike’s attention. He was searching
through a rack of designer shorts and seemed blind to her frenzied
waving from the changing room door. Finally he turned, saw her, and
frowned. Her heart sank. He came over and looked at her
critically.

‘Hm, a bit too
severe for you, I think. Let’s try something with a bit more
colour.’

He plucked a
shimmering blue mini-dress from the rack and held it out to
her.

‘Oh God, do I
have to? Look Mike, I don’t think this is going to work. I can just
about manage the designer shorts and overpriced T-shirts, but I’m
really not comfortable in dresses like this. It’s not me, you know
what I mean?’

‘Of course it’s
not you,’ he said patiently. ‘That’s the whole point. You’re
playing a character, remember? And the woman you’re playing has a
taste for good clothes, expensive trinkets, things that match the
sort of life that Colwyn Symons is enjoying. Come on, you can do
it. Just try on the blue dress, you’ll look fabulous, trust
me.’

She retreated
into the changing room then emerged again sheepishly. ‘Can you undo
this one for me, please?’

He slid the
zipper down and she hurried for the shelter of the curtains. The
black dress fell to the floor and she pulled on the stretchy blue
sequinned mini-dress. It fitted closely to every curve, and her
eyebrows rose when she studied her reflection. That was more like
it. With her flash new haircut and this dress, she looked like a
successful participant in a makeover show.

Mike was
waiting right outside the changing room this time, and she was
relieved to see a wicked grin light his face when he saw her.

‘Whoo-ee! That
dress is amazing on you. You look the part in that one,
girlfriend!’ He gave her a high five, and her confidence
soared.

‘Really? Do you
think so?”

‘Sure, look at
yourself.’ He twirled her to face the mirror, where she saw a tall
sophisticated blonde woman dressed in the height of fashion looking
back at her. ‘Now just lose the stunned expression, and he’ll be
falling over himself to get to know you.’

‘Damn right!
Let’s get the bastard!’

He helped her
carry the armloads of bags back to her hotel, where he drew up a
schedule of acting lessons for the next few days.