Read Eye for an Eye Online

Authors: Bev Robitai

Tags: #romance, #adventure, #travel, #canada, #investment, #revenge, #toronto, #cheat, #new zealand, #fraudster, #conman, #liar, #farm girl, #defraud

Eye for an Eye (6 page)

BOOK: Eye for an Eye
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‘Bloody hell! A
door chain? Who do they expect to come breaking into a hotel like
this? Someone wanting my diamond tiara?’

She threw
herself down on the bed, kicked off her shoes, and started to
relax. Then a quick movement on the wall beside her sent her
leaping for a shoe to squash the small brown insect that was
heading rapidly towards her pillow. She wiped away the ugly stain
with a tissue, and added bug spray to her list of things to
buy.

Her stomach
growled, reminding her that it had been a long time since the last
meal on the plane. She scrabbled in her bag for a partly-squashed
muesli bar and washed it down with lukewarm bottled water, wishing
more than anything else in the world for a nice cup of tea.

 

Up in his
penthouse apartment, Colwyn Symons sat on the balcony overlooking
the lake with a chilled glass of Chardonnay in his hand. A light
breeze cooled the air, while classical music played softly from his
state-of-the-art speakers. He was freshly showered after his
workout, and was looking forward to a dinner meeting with a couple
of clients that he thought were just about ready to sign the deal.
A little sweetening, a good meal at a top restaurant, plenty of
calm reassurance, and the money would be his. He sighed with
satisfaction.

On the short
walk uptown to the restaurant, he took pains to avoid the places
where beggars habitually sat pan-handling, as their filth and
poverty quite spoiled his appetite.

He wined and
dined his clients successfully, then took a taxi home, preferring
not to walk the city streets after dark. He took the elevator to
his cool air-conditioned apartment and enjoyed a peaceful night’s
sleep.

 

Robyn was woken
at 3am by ear-splitting shrieks outside her window. Dazed and
stumbling in the unfamiliar room, she turned on the light to check
the time and swore quietly. More shouts pierced the night. Robyn
forced the window open as far as it would go and looked up, seeing
a lit window open three floors up on the opposite wing of the
building. Suddenly a vase came sailing through it and crashed onto
the grass.

‘Ooh you bitch,
I gave you that for your birthday!’

‘Well I never
liked it. The colours were all wrong. You never know what I
like.’

‘I know what
you like, sweetie - but you won’t be getting it from me any
more!’

‘Good!’ yelled
Robyn. ‘Now shut the hell up, will you?’

She slammed the
window shut to cut off their petulant replies, and tried to get
back to sleep. She’d told the travel agent that the hotel had to be
cheap, but surely there was something better than this?

She was woken
again at 5am by a body clock not yet attuned to local time, but
since she felt quite alert she decided to go along with it. Food
was urgently required, and she promised herself a proper breakfast
as soon as the nearest cafe was open. In the meantime, she searched
through her folder of important papers to find the photo she’d
taken off the TV, showing Colwyn Symons at the yacht marina. Today
was the day she would track the bastard down and start making him
wish he’d never been born. She slipped the photo into her jeans
pocket and laced on her running shoes.

Once outside,
she was astonished to find that the city was already bustling with
life. Roadside stalls were selling a variety of cheap goods, subway
trains could be heard rumbling beneath the ventilator grilles in
the sidewalk, and traffic was already beginning to fill the
streets. She set off westwards, heading for Yonge Street which she
knew would take her right downtown and onto the lakefront.

After a few
moments, the enticing scent of coffee caught her by the nose and
drew her into a small cafe serving early breakfasts. She checked
the blackboard menu above the counter, looking among the many
unfamiliar items for something she could recognise. It was oddly
disconcerting to see things that she’d never heard of, when she’d
assumed that there would be no language barrier. Ah, at last –
something she could pronounce.

‘Hi there,
could I have fried eggs on toast, and a cup of tea, please?’

The small Asian
lady behind the counter nodded.

‘Black or
white?’ Robyn looked blank. The lady repeated her question. ‘You
want black or white? Tea – black or white?’

‘Oh, I see! Er,
white please.’

‘Bag in, bag
out?’

‘Sorry?’

‘Bag in? Or bag
out? How you want it?’

‘Bag out?’
guessed Robyn, confused.

The styrofoam
cup came filled with hot water and milk, with the tea bag beside
it. Robyn dunked the bag until the mixture was deep brown, then
drank and sighed happily. There was nothing like a good cup of tea
to set you up for the day. The eggs were delicious, although the
rich dark bread was a little unusual. She would have liked a whole
big pot of tea, but had to settle for buying a second cup (white,
bag out) to finish her meal. Once fortified, she continued her walk
down to the waterfront with new vigour, striding along with purpose
in every line of her tall slim body.

Across the
street, a large building proclaimed itself to be the Eatons Centre,
another name she recognised from the guidebook. She figured it
would be worth a look, as she might be able to use the shopping
mall as a day-time base for her operations downtown instead of
walking all the way back to the hotel.

She entered the
revolving doors and stopped, entranced. A glassed-in entry hall
rose above her, filled with brightly coloured silk and paper kites
in all shapes and sizes catching the sunlight as they swung in the
air. In front of her, escalators carried shoppers down to the next
floor, where she found she could look right down the central atrium
to the food hall at the bottom level. Above her, several more
floors of shops extended in tiers up towards an arched glass roof
that extended like a crystal cathedral for two city blocks.

She closed her
mouth with a snap and began to explore.

A store selling
leather clothes caught her eye, and she paused to finger a suede
jacket hanging on a rack at the door. Instantly, a handsome young
salesman popped out to engage her in conversation.

‘Hi, how are
you?’

‘Good, thanks!’
she replied cheerfully.

He eyed her
appraisingly.

‘I’ll bet you
are!’

She burst out
laughing at this unexpected response and beat a hasty retreat. Her
budget didn’t run to leather-wear anyway.

When she slowed
down, she found herself outside a photo-lab, where she
automatically stopped to check out the pictures in the window. A
bold advert caught her attention, telling customers to get their
photos printed on a T-shirt. She considered the possibilities, then
went inside and pulled the picture from her jeans pocket.

‘I’d like this
on a T-shirt, please.’

The clerk
looked dubious. ‘It’s kinda grainy, don’t you have anything
clearer?’

‘No, it’s off a
TV picture. Go ahead, I think it’ll be recognisable enough for what
I want.’

He shrugged and
made the copy, then heat-pressed it onto the shirt she chose.

After paying
for it, she sought out a rest-room and put it on. It felt strange,
having Colwyn Symons’ picture emblazoned across her chest, but she
was sure it would help her locate him once she found the marina.
Someone down there would be bound to recognise him sooner or
later.

As she left the
lower end of the Eatons Centre, the humidity hit hard. Within
minutes, her crisp new shirt was clinging damply to her breasts.
She pulled it free, and headed down towards the lake.

Passing under
several huge concrete bridges humming with traffic, she couldn’t
repress a shudder at their impact on the environment. She could
imagine that there might have been grassy fields there once, rich
with wild flowers and trees. Now, dusty weeds struggled to survive
beneath the shadow of the expressway.

Her spirits
rose once she neared the lake shore and saw the first yacht marina
ahead of her. Adrenaline surged through her limbs and her heart
beat faster. As she approached the rows of sleek white cruisers,
she felt she could take on the world. At last, she would get to
grips with the guy she’d flown halfway round the world to find. And
then, watch out!

She started
walking along each dock, checking the names on every boat,
searching eagerly for the Angel Lady that was pictured in vivid
colour across her chest.

The sun rose
higher. The day grew hotter. The humid air was heavy with the smell
of fuel and lake water.

After several
hours, Robyn’s pace slowed to a plod, then stopped. She sank onto
the wooden rail at the edge of the dock and fanned herself with her
hat.

‘You OK,
honey?’

A woman’s head
popped up in the boat next to her, followed by leathery brown limbs
and the brightest pink towelling jump-suit Robyn had ever seen. She
smiled weakly.

‘Yeah, I’m
fine, thanks - just a bit hot, eh. Not used to it yet.’

‘Well hey, you
want a cold drink? Come aboard, I’ve got plenty.’ She patted the
cockpit seat invitingly.

The lure of a
drink was more than Robyn could resist. She slid aboard, and
accepted a cool can of soda with deep gratitude.

‘Where you
from, honey?’

‘New Zealand, I
just flew in yesterday.’

‘Noo Zealand?
That’s er, that’s…’

‘Near
Australia,’ Robyn finished for her.

‘Oh right,
yeah, I saw Crocodile Dundee - what a hoot! You get many crocodiles
round your way?’

‘Not in New
Zealand, no. We have a few native birds, that’s all. Nothing
dangerous - except some of the people.’ Robyn took a drink. ‘That’s
kind of why I’m here - I’m looking for a New Zealand guy who came
over recently and bought a boat here in Toronto.’ She pulled out
the photo. ‘His name’s Colwyn Symons. You wouldn’t happen to have
seen him around, would you?’

‘No, I can’t
say that I have. Cute looking guy though. Sweet on him, are
you?’

‘Well, er…’

‘Look at you!
Of course you are, you’ve got his picture right there on your
shirt! Oh that’s so adorable! Look, if I see him around, I’ll tell
him you’re looking out for him. D’you have a number?’

‘No! That is -
don’t tell him I’m here, I’d really like it to be a surprise. He
has no idea I’m in the country, and I just want to catch him, er,
at the right moment.’

‘Sure honey,
surprise him, that sounds great. Oh that’s just so cute! I’ll bet
the two of you have such a good time together, both so blonde and
good-looking.’ She sighed wistfully. ‘My Marvin’s no oil painting,
but he’s a good man and that’s what counts, I guess. Well I hope
you find your Colwyn soon. Hey, why don’t you try the marina
office? They’ll probably know where to find him. It’s along about a
mile and a half that way, a blue and white building next to the
boat ramp.’

Robyn thanked
her and set off eagerly to follow the directions she’d been given,
certain that she’d soon get to grips with Colwyn Symons and deal
out what he deserved. Rested, refreshed and refuelled, she was
sparking with nervous energy demanding to be released.

 

 

CHAPTER 3

 

Colwyn Symons
spent an hour in the gym before lunch, lifting carefully-selected
weights to sculpt his muscles in just the right way. He paid Harry
the building attendant a little extra to wipe down each piece of
equipment before he used it, to avoid the horror of sliding around
on other people’s sweat. He also paid Harry to do a number of
potentially distasteful jobs that needed doing in the course of his
business deals. Harry was happy to get the cash, and Colwyn
suspected that he actually enjoyed some of the rougher tasks he had
to undertake.

Right now,
Harry hung around with a handful of clean towels, waiting for the
next changeover.

‘Is there
anything else I can do for you, Mr. Symons? Need any errands
run?’

‘No thanks,
Harry - everything’s going pretty smoothly right now. I’ll let you
know when I need you.’

The flesh round
Harry’s eyes creased in an unappealing grin. ‘Sure thing, Mr.
Symons.’

As Colwyn was
leaving the gym after his session, he called Harry over, trying to
ignore the grease-stained collar and food spots on his shirt.

‘Actually there
is one thing you could do for me, Harry. Go down to my boat and
turn over the engine a few times to make sure it starts easily, and
air out the bilge fumes. I’m taking some clients out later.’

‘Sure, I’ll do
that for you. What time do you need her ready by?’

‘About four.
We’re just going out on the harbour for a couple of hours, so I can
show them what a good time a wise investor can have. It’s always
easier to impress people when things go smoothly.’

‘No problemo,
Mr Symons, she’ll be purring like a kitten for you at the first
touch of the button.’

‘I’d expect
nothing less.’ Colwyn nodded for emphasis and made his exit.

 

Back at the
lakefront, Robyn found the marina office with little difficulty,
but was baulked by the unhelpful attitude of the paunchy man behind
the counter.

‘We can’t give
you information on our clients, it’s a breach of confidence.’

Robyn privately
thought he’d been watching too many TV law shows, but knew it would
be counter-productive to say so. She tried another approach.

‘Look, I really
do need to find him, rather quickly.’ She looked down coyly. ‘It’s
a matter of some… urgency.’

‘Not a chance,
lady. We get all kinds of people saying things like that. If you
want to contact the guy, use the phone. There’s a booth over
yonder. Now if you’ll excuse us, it’s lunch time and the office is
now closed.’

Robyn saw a
spotty youth that she hadn’t noticed before sitting at a computer
behind the counter. He looked up and shrugged.

BOOK: Eye for an Eye
6.45Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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