Behind the Facade (14 page)

They
stared at each other. Kate could still sense the unnerving electricity between
them.
Friends?
thought
Michael. She was just being naïve to think that was possible.

He was about to reject the idea when a forceful
banging on the door accompanied by a shouted, “Kate are you in there?” startled
them both. Before either of them had chance to respond, the handle turned and
an irate Sebastian barged in on them, closely followed by Kate's father.

Kate stumbled back onto the bed in surprise.
Sebastian homed in on Michael and launched a fist at him but, before it could
connect, Kate's father came between them. He caught Sebastian’s hand, shoving
his arm down saying. “Calm down, man.”

Sebastian turned to him, angrily shaking free of
his hold. “Did you not see what he did to my nose?” He gestured at his face.
“And then he has the bloody nerve to bring her here?
To his
room?”

“I'm sure
Michael had no ill-intent.”

Sebastian
growled at this and spat towards Michael, “Like fuck he didn’t!”

“Michael?”
queried Harry. “I saw my daughter faint. What happened?”

Kate
interjected then. “Why is everyone talking about me as if I’m not here?”

Her
father crossed to her then and took her hand. “Kate, darling, are you ok?”

She stood
up from the bed and shrugged off his attempts to assist her to her feet. “I'm
fine and perfectly capable of explaining what happened.”

She
crossed to Michael then, placing a hand on his arm and addressing him formally.
“Mr Hunter kindly came to my aid, believing Sebastian to have upset me when I
screamed. He was mistaken. I simply suffered a momentary headache and a little
dizziness, which distressed me. I'm sure he's very sorry for hitting him.”

She
looked emphatically at Michael who nodded in agreement, whilst Sebastian
scowled at him in disbelief.

“He kindly
brought me here to recover. I've made such a fool of myself.” She looked at
Sebastian then, who had remained focused on Michael and tense with unreleased
fury, and said, “I'm sorry Sebastian. It was
all my
fault. Forgive me?”

Sebastian
could do little but bank his anger, as to do otherwise would suggest he was
unwilling to accept her apology. He visibly relaxed a little.

Kate
crossed to him and kissed him on the cheek, saying,
“
Thank
you. I'm too embarrassed to return to the party. Will you take me home?” She
suggested this in order to placate him, knowing that leaving him with Michael
would only lead to further trouble. Michael grimaced at this but knew it would
be unwise to object.

Kate
purposefully steered Sebastian from the room but, as they ventured over the
threshold, she glanced behind and gave Michael a wistful smile.

In
contrast, Sebastian turned and snarled, “This isn’t over Hunter.”

He was
left with her father, who hadn't failed to spot there was something between
them.

He turned
to Michael and challenged “What are your intentions towards my daughter?”

Michael
looked puzzled.

“Hunter,
come on. I'm no fool. You made it your business to take care of her and then
you were in here alone for some time before we tracked you down.”

“I really don’t know what you’re
talking about, Harry. I saw your daughter was in need of assistance. I brought
her up here and gave her a glass of water. End of story. ”

Michael made to move past him and out
of the door but Harry grabbed his arm “I thought we’d started to trust one
another? Don’t mess with me Hunter,” he warned, his voice having taken on a
tight edge of menace. “Not on this.”

Michael
carefully extricated his arm, but not without some difficulty and, in the
process, his sleeve rucked up, revealing the digits inscribed there by Kate.
Harry was not slow to notice, recognising the number at once.

Harry
recaptured his arm, gripping it painfully this time. “If she gave you her
personal number, she had a reason to. Don’t try and tell me there’s nothing in
it.” He released his arm with an irritable shake.

Michael held his hands up in mock
submission. ”Look, Harry, the last thing I want to do is upset you, or our
business relationship, by getting involved with your daughter.”

“You should have thought of that
before you came to her rescue so admirably,” said Harry with a measure of
sarcasm. “You’ve allowed her to give you her number and you weren’t going to
disappoint her were you?”

“Well, actually, I’ve not really got
the time…..”

“Bugger that, man. You make the time.
Don't pretend you don't want her. I've seen the way you look at her. I know
when a man wants what he shouldn't have.”

Michael realised Harry had him. He
shrugged. “I can't deny it. Your daughter is a doll. But Sebastian clearly
feels he has a claim to her and I don’t want to cause any bad feeling.”

“Sebastian
has always held something of a torch for her. Despite owing Sebastian a huge
debt, Kate has never reciprocated his feelings.
Having said
that, I put this down to the fact that she hasn’t shown much emotion towards
anyone since her... mishap.”
Harry spoke this last word hesitantly and
Michael frowned.

“Tonight
I noticed a change in her. She was more like her old self. She seems to respond
to you.” Harry paused and a tender expression softened his habitually stony
features. “I’ve been worried about her for a long time. You may be good for
her. You may help bring her to a full recovery.”

Michael appeared about to question
this last statement but Harry stopped him with a look.

“Don’t ask me about what happened. Ask
her. I’m hoping she’ll confide in you and, by doing so, retrieve the blank
spots in her memory...especially any information about the bastard who was
responsible.”

Harry’s face hardened perceptibly and
his eyes glittered dangerously. “Before I die, I swear I’m going to find that
bastard and show him exactly what happens to anyone who dares to hurt me and
mine.”

Michael was unnerved by this last
declaration and didn’t immediately respond.

Harry smacked him on the back and
cajoled, “What’s the matter? Don't you want to get to know her better?”

"Sure,” he returned.  “But
Christ, Harry, she’s your daughter.
Your prized possession.
You couldn’t trust me with your Bugatti instead, could you?”

“I never took you for a coward Mick,”
he replied. “I’m not asking you to marry her for pity’s sake. I’m just giving
you my permission to see her. All I ask in return is that you pass on any
recollections she may have.”

Michael sighed, recognising this as an
offer that he’d have to accept, or risk estranging Harry. “OK Harry.
But what about Sebastian?”
Michael asked. “Won’t this really
hack him off?”

Harry shook his head dismissively. “We
owe him a lot, yes, but Kate has never warmed to him. He’ll just have to accept
it. Trust
me,
I don’t want her fought over like dogs
over a bone either. I’ll speak to him, don’t worry.”

Harry extended his hand.

Michael still looked a little unsure
but when Harry’s inexorable gaze met his, he put out his own hand and shook decisively.
Harry grasped it hard, ensuring Michael could not reclaim it quickly, adding,
“It goes without saying that I'm relying on you to handle her with care. She’s
been through hell. She’s more than a possession, Michael. She’s my baby, and
you’d better not forget it.”

As soon as he’d introduced himself to the receptionist, Michael
was ushered into Harry’s presence. Before she closed the door on them, Jayne
gave Michael a last lingering look. It was just her luck, she thought, that he
hadn't been asked to wait. Jasmine, who normally covered the desk in the
afternoons, had told her about the totally hot Mr Hunter but she’d not paid her
much attention, believing her to be exaggerating his charms just to gloat over
how much she’d missed out. There was little love lost between them.

Normally she had ample time to eye up her boss’s visitors, none
of whom were ever deserving of much attention. Whilst, more often than not, she
was happy to flirt with them, she usually found their age and physique too
abhorrent to feel any genuine desire for them, despite their obvious wealth.
She considered humouring them simply to be part of her job.  The only
eye-candy she ever got was that oaf Sebastian and his looks were definitely
soured by his personality. He was never civil to her.

Michael Hunter looked like a much better prospect. Not only did
he exude an aura of wealth and confidence, he was seriously sexy.  She’d
had to control the urge not to gape, as he’d approached her desk.
Then his accent.
Well, she’d almost fallen off her chair
with palpitations.
Attractive
and
American.
Jasmine had been right, loath as she was to admit her rival was right about
anything. When Harry had given her Michael’s name and directed her to send him
straight in as soon as he arrived, she’d been curious to meet him but had never
thought she’d be so reluctant to obey Harry’s instruction. Nonetheless she’d
complied, all too conscious of the undeserved wrath that habitually fell on her
head. Heaven knows what Harry would do if she didn’t adhere to so direct an
order. Maybe she’d catch Mr Hunter on the way out and she could offer him her
number?
she
thought hopefully. Then she’d definitely
have something to lord over Jasmine. But she was to be disappointed.

Harry gave Michael a beaming grin, as he entered, and rose from
his chair, extending his arms in an expansive gesture of welcome, not afraid to
show the pleasure he felt at his arrival. Harry loved to show off and this
meeting gave him an opportunity to do just that. Furthermore, he had never
truly shared this side of his business with anyone in a meaningful way. Yes,
his clients were aware of what was on offer but not the clever logistics and
mechanics behind it. He was proud and precious of what he had created. But,
like any parent, the time had now come to showcase his child and give it the
chance to grow. First, however, there was a test that his protégé had to pass.

Harry greeted him with “Michael, my friend.
How
good of you to come.”
Then waving a hand at the chair in front of him,
he invited Michael to sit and lowered himself back into his own seat.

As soon as Michael had settled himself, he leaned forwards and
pushed some papers, towards him saying “I want to get straight to business,
son. I don’t like to dilly dally over these things. I’ve made up my mind and
want you on board. There’s the contract. All I need from you is a signature and
then a transfer of £250,000 to seal the deal.”  

Michael shoved away from the desk and nearly rose to his feet,
visibly perturbed. Shaking his head he said, “Hold up a minute, Harry! I
haven’t even seen any accounts yet, let alone had chance to get my head around
what this side-line of yours is. I’m not entirely persuaded I should even be
part of it.”

Harry, far from being put off, merely smiled and said, “Believe
me Michael, it isn’t a side-line. It’s the main event.”

He sat back and said, “By all means, take your time reading the
contract. You’ll see that there are great dividends to be reaped. I’m not about
to cheat you. I’m even putting you in charge of our US expansion.” 

He held up his hand and interrupted Michael when he seemed about
to voice further doubts. “I know you have questions. I understand that. But you
need to understand this.”

Suddenly his tone changed and became soft, yet deadly serious.
“Until you’re firmly tied into this, those questions cannot be answered. I have
to have your commitment first. This is not negotiable. You sign or you walk
away. It’s up to you.”

Michael’s mouth set into a grim line, clearly not at all happy
to be put in this position. Harry’s face was implacable. He could see he would
not be moved. He came to a decision. Pulling the contract towards him, he
riffled through it to the last page, quickly scrawled his signature and pushed
it back to Harry. “I’ll transfer the money within 24 hours,” he confirmed.

“Good man,” said Harry and, after tucking the contract away,
stood to his feet and stuck out his hand. “Welcome on board, Michael. You won’t
regret it.”

“You follow a hard line,” responded Michael, taking his hand.

“I can’t afford not to. Now,” he said making his way around the
desk, “let me begin to enlighten you.”

 As he reached Michael’s side he clapped him on the back
and gripped his shoulder. Before Michael could speak, he’d manoeuvred him away
from the desk, leading him towards the far wall of the office.

 “What …?” queried Michael.

Harry was tickled by his obvious puzzlement. Only a privileged
few knew of the second lift he had installed that led directly to the roof. It
never failed to please him when he was able to surprise someone with it.

As they approached the wall, Harry applied the simple pressure
of his finger to a keypad in his pocket. The wall panels silently slid back
exposing the silver skin of elevator doors. Michael looked appropriately
startled.

 “Come with me,” commanded Harry, shifting his grip to
Michael’s arm, and they entered the lift together.

As they ascended, Michael asked, “Where are we going?” 
Harry simply tapped the side of his nose, revelling in the intrigue. Michael
wasn’t sure if he was comfortable with this unexpected turn of events but
didn’t press Harry, determined not to show any lack of confidence.

As the lift began to rise, he had the disturbing and ridiculous
notion that he had just signed his own death warrant and Harry was going to
push him off the roof. However, once they reached the summit, his misgivings
were allayed, as the doors opened to reveal a
heli
-pad
and a waiting black Sikorsky. Harry urged him out to the helicopter.

They ran, both anxious to lessen the time spent in the hurling
wind and deafening roar of the propellers. Once they were duly seated and
belted with the door closed and the noise of the rotors muffled, Harry turned to
Michael and said, “I want to show you somewhere. You want to know more about
the business. I think showing you this place will do more to illustrate it than
my poor efforts at description will. In fact, where I’m going to take you now
is an integral, if not fundamental, stage in the whole process.”

Michael simply nodded in acknowledgment and the helicopter began
to rise, expertly guided by the experienced pilot.

It wasn’t long before the pilot had deftly manoeuvred them above
and beyond the grasp of the high rise buildings and industrial paraphernalia of
the city and they were hurtling across open country. The pilot was clearly
confident of his route and destination and handled the Sikorsky with accustomed
ease.

 After a journey of about half an hour, a dense forest of
trees appeared ahead of them. The pilot slowed the craft and began to descend.
Michael was hard pressed to make out any safe place to land, as the trees
loomed closer. Then, as if in welcome, the trees suddenly parted, revealing a
smooth green promontory in their midst. The hill-top had clearly been levelled
and cleared for the purpose of accommodating helicopters such as this.

Once down on the ground and the whine of the engine and rotors
had fallen quiet, Michael looked around him in bafflement. Conifers surrounded
them on every side, bird song mingled with the whisper of the wind and the
intermittent drone of insects but there was no sign of any human occupation.

“Where the hell have you brought me, Harry? We’re in the middle
of nowhere!”

“We’re in a little place called Little
Baddow
,
actually Mick.” He touched his arm and led him towards the edge of the
clearing.

Pointing down between the trees he said, “And there’s what I
call my Ottoman complex. That’s where we keep the girls. At least until they
are ready for release.” He smiled and then recognising his faux pas, he
demurred, "Of course, I don't mean to suggest they're prisoners!"

Michael squinted in the direction Harry was indicating, as
understanding dawned on him. He was able to make out a cluster of wooden lodge
buildings below them, barely discernible due to the prolific camouflaging
trees.

He snorted and turned back to Harry, "But no doubt they're
not exactly free to leave?"

Harry gripped his arm as if stung by this remark and, rather
more earnestly than was necessary, he said, "OK, I'll speak plainly, Mick.
The only way in or out is the way we've come. There is no path that a vehicle
could traverse so access is restricted to helicopter or the good old foot. It
is private. It is secure.”

He gestured to the cameras that were just about visible,
suspended in the trees above the clearing. “But the principle purpose is to
keep the unwelcome or curious out, not the girls in. There are no guards, no
fences,
no
locked doors. There's no need. The girls
are happy and well-looked after here. They don't want to leave. Clever don't
you think?” Harry clearly thought so, and was confident enough in his own
opinion that he didn't wait for Michael to voice his own and simply strode
forwards down a break in the undergrowth.

Just a prison they don't recognise as
such,
thought Michael and couldn't repress a shiver.

Noticing Michael didn't immediately join him, Harry turned and
frowned. “Come and get a closer look,” he encouraged. Michael was jolted out of
his musings and followed.

As they descended the hill the small trail broadened into a
discernible, well-maintained path but only once they were completely under the
cover of the trees.

At the bottom of the verge the path widened out, just sufficiently
enough to mark the entryway to the first lodge, which stood slightly apart and
in a dominant position from
its
smaller, identical
counterparts.

 As Harry had confirmed, whilst the set up looked like some
woodland hotel retreat there were no inbound or outbound roads or even tracks.
The trees still dominated the landscape, with the collection of woodland lodges
blending seamlessly with their surroundings.

  “So Harry,” queried Michael, “With no roads in or out,
how did you even manage to get this built? And presumably
there’s
staff
. Do they stay on site?”

“I knew you were insightful. Yes, you’re thinking of the
logistics of it all. I like that. In answer to your questions, there was a road
in to allow for its construction but this has since been blocked and
reforested. Some staff
do
live here in the on-site
accommodation. Some come in when they’re required, the same way we did. Now,
let me show you around. I’m sure the place itself will answer many of your
questions and reveal exactly what you’ve invested in.”

Harry showed him into the main reception lodge and Michael was
surprised at its sumptuousness, belied by its modest and rustic exterior. Harry
noticed his surprise. “We like to make an impression on our visitors,” he said.
"Make them feel special.”

“Each accommodation lodge is very well equipped, with a sauna,
hot tub, balcony and amazing views of the forest. In fact, I'd like you to stay
the night here Michael, so you can appreciate how comfortable it is.”

There was a reception desk but no-one manning it, although a
plaque above the desk welcomed them to the “Starlight Sanctuary” and announced
underneath “Beauty is Power”.

Harry made to breeze past reception but Michael hesitated,
contemplating the tag-line. It was intended, no doubt, to be interpreted by
female newcomers as power to them. Harry, seeing him pause, confirmed Michael’s
own comprehension of it. "Like it?” he said. “That power is mine, Mick.
And now it’s yours.”

He led him down a corridor to the left. The corridor would have
been in danger of being narrow and claustrophobic had it been enclosed by wood
panelling on each side but the left hand wall and ceiling were fitted with
glass. This allowed natural light to illuminate the passageway and also
provided a view of the flowered, sheltered walkways, leading out to each
accommodation lodge.

The passageway converged with its right hand sister, after about
50 metres and arrived at an archway. They passed under this and into a soft
leather lounge area, encircled by doors, behind which, Harry explained, the
girls received various beauty enhancing treatments. He invited Michael to
observe any procedure he liked but Michael declined, preferring to question
Harry further on the type of treatments that were typical.

 “We provide everything from simple manicures and waxing to
complex surgery,” said Harry. “Our job of course, is to ensure the girl matches
the client's requirements exactly. The girls don't feel pressured into
anything, I assure you. They appreciate our help in showing them how to make the
best of themselves.”