Eye for an Eye (17 page)

‘Just stuff I
use for work, when I need to follow someone inconspicuously. You’d
be amazed what people don’t want to see.’

‘Go on, tell me
about it.’ She liked the way his enthusiasm was sneaking past his
normal reserve.

‘Take Colwyn
Symons, for instance. I can be three feet away from him and
completely invisible because he won’t bring himself to look at
me.’

‘Yeah? How do
you manage that?’

‘There’s a
disguise I use of a street beggar, dressed in old raggedy clothes,
wearing a grey wig, false beard, and this is the best bit - a
moustache with a dangling bit of ah, nasal mucus on it.’

‘Eeeoogh!’

‘Once they see
that, they don’t look at me a second longer. I just disappear. It’s
very useful.’

‘Is it real
snot?’

‘No, of course
not! I just squeeze a dribble of contact glue onto the moustache
and let it harden - want to see it?'

‘Sure. And you
said this isn’t fun!’

He pulled out
his make-up case and removed the top tray. Beneath it nestled his
wigs, along with several beards and moustaches.

She picked up
the moustache with the lumpy yellow decoration and held it to her
upper lip. Mike averted his eyes.

‘I can see why
they turn away. When you see it on someone else it’s disgusting!’
He grabbed it back and put it away out of sight.

Robyn pulled
out a dark-haired wig.

‘Put this on, I
want to see it.’

He smoothed
back his own light brown hair and put on the dark wig. Immediately
his face seemed to take on stronger definition. He slipped
blue-tinted contact lenses into his eyes, blinked for a moment,
then fixed Robyn with a piercing gaze. Her mouth dropped open.

‘Ooh, you look
just like James Bond!’

He smiled
smugly. ‘This is for when I want to be noticed, particularly by a
woman. They open up and tell me a lot more secrets about their
husbands’ affairs when I look like this.’

Robyn pretended
to fan herself. ‘I can see why! That’s very impressive. Now put on
the other one, I want to see the difference.’

Mike removed
the lenses and pulled on the grey wig. Robyn’s eyes narrowed.
Something looked very familiar here. She held another moustache to
his face and exclaimed suddenly.

‘It was YOU!’
Surprise left her speechless for several seconds until her wits
caught up with her mouth. ‘You were the guy that saved me from
being run over, weren’t you?’

He smiled
quietly.

‘Yes, that’s
right. I was afraid you were going to get flattened before I had a
chance to find out what you were up to. Oh, and thanks for the
hamburger by the way, nobody’s ever given me food before. The best
I usually get is a handful of small change but you were really
thoughtful.’

‘Of course I
was, you’d just saved my life! Wow! I can’t believe it took me this
long to recognise you! That’s amazing. How did you learn to do all
this stuff, anyway?’

‘Oh, just
picked it up here and there. Like I told you, I learned the basics
in amateur theatre in my home town.’

‘That is so
cool! I can’t believe I spoke to you and then never recognised you
again until now.’

‘The acting is
important too, remember what I told you? Your attitude has to match
the character you’re playing. When we first met on the street,
would you have thought about me again if we’d just discussed how to
get to the Science Centre and never seen each other a second
time?’

She thought
about it and shook her head.

‘Probably not,
you weren’t… noteworthy.’

‘Well put,
that’s exactly what I was aiming for. It’s lucky from my job’s
point of view that I’m not particularly memorable to look at. If I
do want to make an impression, I use the dark wig and a more
forceful character. Colwyn does the same sort of thing. He uses his
blond, golden boy image to win people over before he’s even uttered
a word. It would be very difficult to be a successful con-man if he
was ugly.’

‘So it’s all
based on the power of people’s perceptions, really,’ she mused.
‘But where Colwyn uses his powers for evil, you use yours for
good.’ She grinned at him. ‘Captain Anti-Fraud, Superhero -
fighting crime in the city streets!’

‘Leaping cash
registers in a single bound.’

‘Have you got
x-ray vision to see into bank records?’

‘I was kind of
working along those lines when you threatened to unplug my
computer,’ he told her gently.

‘Oops, sorry.
But hey, isn’t this more fun? Any minute now, we’ll cook up a
terrific idea to defeat Colwyn’s wicked plans and then have a great
time carrying it out.’

He sat back and
folded his arms.

‘Go ahead,
amaze me.’

‘Oh come on,
you have to help too! Perfect schemes don’t just happen by
themselves you know, and besides, you’re more experienced at this
sort of thing than I am.’

‘I’m sorry, I
don’t do flash and dazzle. I just plod along doing the work and
getting the job done the only way I know. Now and again I get out
and play dress-up to follow people, but most of the time I’m at a
keyboard tracking their paperwork. It’s not very glamorous.’

‘Just a minute,
you’ve made me curious now. When you say you dress up and follow
people, is it just the suspects you follow, or everyone connected
with them?’

‘Anyone who
might have a bearing on the case,’ he replied cautiously.

‘Aha! So you
followed me?’

‘Maybe. I had
to know whether you were a victim or an accomplice.’

‘How many times
did you follow me?’ She had a vague suspicion that was beginning to
come into focus.

He hesitated,
and she guessed he was wondering how much to admit.

‘About four
times, I think.’

Robyn counted
on her fingers. ‘The time you saved my life, then the day you asked
for directions…OK, when were the other times?’

‘Never mind
that, it’s not relevant. I found out you were a victim - though I
don’t know that victim is the appropriate term for someone as
hell-bent on revenge as you are.’

Robyn refused
to be distracted. ‘What were the other times, Mike? What did I
miss?’

‘Oh, just a
couple of times at the marina, that’s all. I was watching Colwyn
and you happened to be around.’

She advanced
towards him.

‘One of those
times you didn’t happen to trip me up, did you?’

‘Me? Why would
I do that?’

‘It WAS you,
wasn’t it! On the dock when I was running to catch Colwyn before he
took his boat out. You were lying on the dock like a heap of old
rags and you stuck your leg out, didn’t you, so that I went arse
over tit into the bloody lake!’

He held up his
hands defensively. ‘I had to stop you from interfering until I knew
what you were up to - it was nothing personal.’

‘Personal! How
much more personal can it get than being up to your twat in
ice-cold lake water? I’ll give you bloody personal, mate!’

She grabbed a
nearby vase and upended it over his head, dousing him with water
and soggy dahlias.

He leapt from
the chair and sprinted after her as she fled towards the bathroom.
She tried to slam the door, but his foot shot into the gap and
blocked it. He pushed the door open despite her spirited
resistance, and captured her beside the bath, where he sat on the
edge and heaved her over his knee to administer some
punishment.

‘Ow, ow, you’ve
hurt my arm!’ She squirmed with pain and tried to rub the injured
part. Aghast that he could have hurt her, he let go at once and
helped her to stand up.

An evil grin
lit her face as she pushed him backwards into the bath and turned
the cold tap on full.

‘Gotcha! Pete
used to fall for that one too.’

She was safely
out of reach long before he could struggle to his feet.

CHAPTER 7

The following
night Robyn fretted on her journey home from work. Heavy traffic on
the main arterial routes meant that her bus was late, leaving her
very little time to change and put on make-up ready for the meeting
with Colwyn and his prospective investors. She wasn’t sure what her
role was from Colwyn’s point of view, but she’d do her best to
block his plans and see that the money vanished from his greedy
grasp faster than a sprinter on steroids.

Mike helped her
to get ready, fluffing up her hair and applying some make-up once
she’d shrugged into a clinging little knit dress. Once she was
looking as fetching as possible in the time available, he dropped
her off near Colwyn’s apartment and gravely wished her luck.

She smoothed
down her hair and tried to slow her breathing as she skidded to a
halt in the foyer. She concentrated on getting into character,
mentally practising British words and phrases.

The elevator
pinged.

Colwyn stepped
out, looking casual but immaculate in a dark blue shirt, pressed
jeans and black suede jacket. His cologne reached her seconds
before he did, and it crossed her mind that the cloying scent did
nothing to affirm his masculinity.

‘Robyn, you
look terrific! What a stunning dress. Alan will be bowled over, as
long as Kate doesn’t catch him staring too hard!’ He surveyed her
breasts with a knowing smile. ‘And I can see you’re as excited
about this evening as I am.’

Robyn was
relieved that her flushed face and quickened pulse had been
interpreted in his favour. The pale blue jersey dress had the
intended effect - she had noticed Colwyn’s eyes widen as he looked
at her shape so lovingly displayed by the clinging fabric.

‘Glad to pass
inspection, sir. Now shall we go and meet the troops?’

Outside, the
early evening sunlight was gilding the city buildings, reflecting
gleaming golden squares in every glass-covered wall.

While they
strolled the two blocks to the Rose and Crown, Colwyn turned on his
most charming and witty conversation to dazzle her, and Robyn put
on a fair pretence of being impressed by it.

It occurred to
her that should they be accosted by thugs in the street, Colwyn
could defeat them simply by lifting his arm and letting his cologne
knock them out. A kind of ‘Shiseido karate’ she thought to herself
with a giggle.

They walked
past the Hard Rock Café and The World’s Biggest Bookshop, then
crossed Yonge Street to enter the carefully antiqued portals of The
Rose & Crown. Robyn, although no expert on English pubs, sensed
instantly that she was in the realm of the theme-park.

Textured wooden
beams stretched overhead, artificially blackened with spray paint.
Cosy alcoves were fitted with tapestry seats, separated by pillars
from which dangled a variety of imitation horse brasses and
polished copper pans. Despite the warmth of the evening,
gas-powered flames flickered from fake logs in a stone-like
fireplace.

‘So, does this
make you feel at home, Robyn?’

She gazed
around her, stalling for time to find an appropriate response.

‘Goodness me,
it’s quite overwhelming. They really have made an effort, haven’t
they?’

He took her
words at face value and beamed.

‘Ah, there are
Kate and Alan, come and be introduced.’

She allowed
herself to be led towards one of the alcoves, where a grey-haired
couple smiled and waved at them. Robyn recognised them as the
couple Colwyn had taken out on the Angel Lady, seemingly a lifetime
ago.

‘Kate, Alan,
wonderful to see you again. Kate, you look superb tonight. May I
introduce Robyn Heverill, a young lady from England whom I met
recently? Robyn, I’d like you to meet Kate and Alan McNamara.’

Robyn greeted
Kate and shook hands with Alan, instantly warming to his twinkling
eyes and friendly smile.

‘Awfully nice
to meet you both. Do you live here in Toronto? I’m finding it a
lovely city.’

‘No, we’re not
city folk. We’ve just retired after running a camera store for
thirty years, down in Belleville.’

‘Really? I’m a
photographer myself.’ She caught herself slipping out of character
and quickly changed tack. ‘Just as a hobby, of course, but it’s
jolly good fun. I’ve taken some cracker shots at the local
gymkhana, made the front page of the Newbury Examiner once or
twice.’

‘That’s great -
what kind of gear do you use for that?’ asked Alan.

‘Mostly my
Nikon SLR, with a 17-135 zoom lens.’

Kate looked
surprised.

‘Isn’t that
kinda heavy for a slip of a girl like you? Those things weigh a
ton.’

Robyn smiled.
‘I guess I’ve just got used to it. When you carry it round all the
time, you soon build up the muscles!’

A waitress came
over to take their drink orders.

Robyn’s mind
went into a spin. What did upper-class English people drink? She
struggled to recall the pub scenes from English TV shows. Milk
stout? Port and lemon? No, they weren’t posh enough at all. Beer
probably wasn’t right either, though she’d have given her eye teeth
for a Steinlager right then. A name caught her eye on the beverage
menu.

‘I’ll have a
Pimms, please.’ She smiled up at the waitress.

‘How would you
like that, ma’am?’

‘Oh. Er, let me
see. On the rocks?’

Colwyn ordered
a Fosters beer, claiming he was supporting the home industry. Robyn
raised an eyebrow, and turned back to her conversation with Kate
and Alan.

‘So, Alan, have
digital cameras made much difference to your business?’ she
asked.

‘Oh yes. That’s
really why we decided to retire eh, while we could still sell the
shop as a good operation without having to get into all this new
stuff. I’m getting too old to learn to use computers, and that
seems to be the way the industry is going. It’s all on disk these
days, run by young sparks like Colwyn here, eh? The guy who pushes
the right buttons rules the world.’