‘It’s still too sore to write with at present, but hopefully it’ll be better by the end of the week.’ Zak shook his head sorrowfully. He was hoping that by the weekend he might know what was going on. With a tight smile, Phil left.
Since his arrival, Zak had settled into a routine that included a walk through his private little empire. He was now on comfortable speaking terms with most of his staff, but needless to say, they did not appreciate having a boss who walked around prying into everything they did. They would have felt far more comfortable had they known that most of what he saw and heard went straight over his head. George Humphries, his garage foreman, was always bringing him up short when discussing maintenance and repairs. By this time, Zak knew that maintenance and repairs constituted the mainstay of the business so he realized this was one area he should make an extra special effort to come to terms with. He had always had an interest in cars but had little knowledge of the mechanics and internal operations of them. The task was made doubly difficult in his present dimension because of the many differences and complications with the cars in this dimension, mostly to do with safety and reliability. He tried hard to come to terms with it all but he could never sit and concentrate for long enough. He learnt something new every day but, for all that, he was still barely hanging on.
That Monday, acting on impulse, he left early. If Phil was up to something, there was always the possibility he would wait until Zak was out of the way before he tried to make further progress. Zak wanted to give his Finance Director all the rope he needed to hang himself.
As promised, he rang Jenny later that evening and arranged to move back into the family home the next day. Jenny genuinely sounded pleased he was coming home and if he had not known differently he would never have guessed she was using him for some purpose still unknown to him.
Brierley reported the day’s developments to Zak at nine o’clock that evening.
‘Your colleague rang someone called Bill at five-fifteen today.’
‘That was shortly after I left.’
‘Do you know anyone called Bill?’
‘The only one I can think of is Bill Wragg, down in Carlisle. He’s the one whose business I’m about to acquire.’
‘I have a recording of the conversation, naturally, should you want to hear it, but essentially your man rang up to let this Bill character know that you still had a damaged hand. They didn’t speak for very long or discuss much else. In fact, they didn’t seem to be on very good terms with each other. The man called Bill said he wanted the whole thing over and done with as soon as possible. He sounded agitated.’
‘Yes, that sounds like Bill Wragg,’ Zak said. ‘How about my wife? Has she made any calls I might be interested in?’
‘Well…’ Brierley let the word hang in the air for a brief moment. ‘She made an appointment with her hairdresser and she rang up some woman called Annabel about lunch.’
‘Is that all?’
‘Not quite, Mr Storie. She also rang her friend Phil Williamson a few minutes ago.’
‘What did she say?’ Zak’s interest immediately reawakened.
‘She told him you had just rang to confirm you were returning home tomorrow.’
‘And?...’ Zak said.
‘He sounded pleased and said that should simplify things for them.’
‘What did he mean by that?’
‘I was hoping you might be able to tell me, Mr Storie.’
‘Well, I can’t.’ It seemed to him it would be far easier for Phil to carry on his affair with Jenny if he, Zak, continued living at the Mount Plaza. His remark made no sort of sense. After struggling with the problem for a few seconds more, he gave up.
Brierley sounded sympathetic. ‘Don’t worry about it. It’s early days yet. Just relax, concentrate on your business and leave the rest to me. After all, that’s what you’re paying me for, isn’t it?
And Brierley was right. Jenny might be having an affair with Phil Williamson but that was probably all there was to it. Zak’s worry that something much more sinister was going on probably had no deeper basis than the sex his wife and Williamson were enjoying together. But try as he might, he could not completely shake off the feeling that something far more important, even than his marriage, was at stake.
That night Naomi tried her best to shake off her own disappointment while, at the same time, she tried to take Zak’s mind off his worries. She was determined to make the most of what might prove to be her last night with Zak.
Zak returned to his home in Barnton the next day. While he continued waiting for Brierley to discover what Jenny and Phil were up to, he had decided to play the part of the eager, innocent husband. Jenny met him at the door, just as Naomi had done a few short weeks earlier when he had arrived at the house for the first time. It was a weird feeling going up and kissing a woman his body knew intimately, but who was a stranger to him. Jenny eagerly responded to his passionate kiss and gave him a look of surprise when they eventually parted.
‘I’m sorry about …,’ she began,but Zak silenced her by putting his finger gently onto her trembling lips.
‘There’s no need for that,’ he said. ‘I suggest we put it all behind us and start again. What do you say, luv?’
Jenny nodded. ‘I’d like that, Zachary, dear.’ She sounded relieved and sincere in equal measure. ‘Here, let me take this,’ she said, bending down to pick up the smaller of the two bags he had with him.
Zak followed her into the house and up the stairs. At the top she stopped and turned to him. ‘I think we should start as we intend going on,’ she said pushing open the door to her bedroom and going in. He followed her.
‘Put your case down over there,’ she said, ‘and then come here.’
Meekly he did as requested before going back to where Jenny sat on the edge of her bed.
‘Take your jacket off and sit down,’ she said, giving the bed next to her an inviting pat.
He noted her surprise and mentally reprimanded himself when he removed his jacket and threw it over a nearby chair. He guessed that Zachary would probably have carefully hung the jacket up. Her hands were reaching for him even as he lowered himself onto the bed and she began making intense and even violent love to him. It was Zak’s turn to be surprised. For the first time, he realized what a passionate woman lay beneath her prim and rather severe exterior.
While his body already knew Jenny, his mind certainly did not and he proved quite conclusively over the next half hour that love-making is mostly played out in the mind. As he fell back, exhausted, onto the bed, Jenny said, ‘My god, Zachary, why on earth have you never done it like that before? I never thought it could be quite so satisfying. You were marvellous, believe me.’
He was too exhausted to speak. In fact, he felt completely drained but, at the same time, he also felt satisfied. Jenny was right though; it had been good. No, correction, it had been great. It had none of the joy of sex with Jeannie or any of the sweetness of sex with Naomi. But there was no doubt about it, it had been an intensely satisfying experience.
Jenny chattered on. ‘Perhaps I should kick you out more often if this is what it’s like when you come back home.’
Sitting up she looked at the wreckage around her. Her normally pristine bedroom looked as if a hurricane had hit it. Clothes were everywhere and her bedside ornaments lay in the thick carpet where they had fallen.
Going over to the wardrobe, she put on her dressing gown. ‘I’ll go and get us some drinks while you recover your strength, Zachary dear. But be warned, I haven’t finished with you, yet.’ A smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
As she left the room and went downstairs, Zak, who had made no move or sound since his lovemaking, gave a groan. He was not sure he was up to a repeat performance quite so soon after his earlier exertions but having at last got into Jenny’s good books, he did not want to disappoint her.
He need not have worried. Once again, he rose valiantly to the task. Not for the first time he was plea
sed his other self had been such a fitness fanatic because the superior fitness of his new body was central to his performance. His old body would never have stood the pace. To show her appreciation for the new man in her life, Jenny went out of her way to be loving and cheerful with him.
Not for the first time, Zak found himself in a difficult position. His heart told him to forgive Jenny her infidelity, just as she appeared to have forgiven him his. She was still his wife and his loyalty should be to her. Nevertheless, he was unable to push thoughts of Jeannie and Naomi from his mind. Nobody could compare with Jeannie and he was missing her dreadfully but it seemed he must now make his new life without her. He would have loved to share all the wealth and success he now enjoyed with her; a success he did not deserve but which she did. Then there was loving, faithful, trusting Naomi. Already he had grown very fond of her and would not willingly do anything to harm her. Whatever happened, he was determined to look after her. The only option left to him was to persevere in his present role and hope that, sooner rather than later, Brierley would come up with something that would resolve the situation. It was only after receiving Brierley’s report on Wednesday evening that he finally realized how much he was the victim of a conspiracy.
Brierley and Zak met in the suite at the Mount Plaza and realizing Zak would want some privacy, Naomi spent the evening with her friend, Jilly. The complete professional, the private investigator was punctual to the second. The receptionist announced his presence on the internal telephone at nine o’clock precisely and Brierley wasted no time coming to the point.
‘I thought you’d want to hear this without delay,’ he said when Zak returned with their drinks. He handed Zak a tiny cassette recorder complete with earphones and Zak’s heart sank when he saw the expression on the PI’s face. The man was clearly not the bearer of good news. Taking a deep breath Zak pushed the small earpiece into his ear and switched on.
The first thing he heard was a dialling tone followed by a female voice.
‘Good afternoon, you are through to Ibbotsons. How may I help you?’
Then Zak heard a voice he recognized.
‘Hello Debbie, this is Phil Williamson. Would you put me through to Bill Wragg, please?’
‘Good afternoon, Mr Williamson. One moment while I connect you.’
‘Bill Wragg. Who is it?’
‘It’s me, Phil Williamson. I’m just touching base with the latest on the situation up here in Edinburgh.’
‘Oh yeh,’ came the reply. ‘Has he or hasn’t he signed? That’s all I want to know. The sooner we get this business over and done with and I get my photographs and negatives back, the sooner I’ll be pleased’
‘Don’t worry! You’ll get them back just as soon as I get my money. But in answer to your question, no, he hasn’t signed yet. He’s still got that bloody hand of his wrapped up like an Egyptian mummy.
‘Do you think he’s got wind of anything yet?’
‘Not from me, he hasn’t. As far as I can see, he still believes he’s being clever. I must admit though, I don’t believe there’s anything wrong with his hand. It’s too convenient by half. For some reason he’s using it as an excuse to delay signing. I can’t think why though because I’m pretty certain he hasn’t got a clue what’s going on,’ Williamson said.
‘What I’d like to know is, what’s in it for you, other than the money.’
‘Isn’t that enough?
‘It wouldn’t be for me, that’s all I can say,’ Bill’s voice was surly. ‘Is he still in that hotel?’
‘No, his wife forgave him and he went back home yesterday.’
‘You surprise me. I’d have thought you’d want him isolated so he doesn’t have time to think this one out. I suppose you know what you’re doing though. You seem to have thought of all the angles.’ There was grudging respect in Bill’s voice. ‘Anyway, just remember, I’ve done what you want so just make sure I get those photos back, right?’
‘Don’t worry. I said you’ll get them and you will,’ Phil replied before the line went dead.
As he listened to the recording, Zak went cold. It is one thing to suspect you are being taken for a ride; it is quite another to be given proof that you are. What was worse, he felt helpless to stop whatever was happening because he still had no idea what was going on.
As Zak sat listening, Brierley watched him, concern and sympathy in his eyes. He’d been here many times before. He was the one who gathered evidence for husbands who suspected their wives were having an affair, but it still hit them hard when he proved they were. In Zak’s case, he already knew about his wife’s infidelity. Receiving proof that he was also the victim of some business conspiracy was a double hit.
‘I don’t want to interfere in your business, Mr Storie,’ he said tentatively, ‘but can I ask, do you have any idea what’s going on?’
Zak shook his head. ‘I’m afraid I don’t and that’s what’s worrying me.’
‘I suspected that might be the case,’ Brierley nodded gently. ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’
‘If there is I don’t know what it is. I’m being taken for a ride but I hadn’t even realized I was on the bus. I certainly don’t know where I’m being taken.’ Zak sounded as miserable as he felt.
‘I suggest you sit back, try to relax and finish your drink. Then, if you like, you can tell me everything you know. Perhaps I can be of further assistance to you. Even if I can’t, by talking it through with someone independent, some solution might present itself. What do you say?’
It was almost as if Brierley knew Zak was friendless. And it was true; there was no one he could talk his problems over with, not even Naomi. She was just too close to the problem. Zak remembered how, when he had been feeling particularly low, he’d been so close to opening his heart to Phil Williamson. What a mistake that would have been!
Brierley looked expectantly at him and Zak came to a decision. Within certain limitations, he would accept the man’s offer.
‘I’d appreciate that, Mr Brierley, and thanks.’
But where to start? He would have to concoct something plausible to explain his lack of knowledge about his business and his home situation because the complete truth would never do. He could elaborate the story about the electric shock making him confused, even though the problem had been maturing well before he had arrived on the scene. If Williamson and Jenny had devised some clever scam that had even fooled the real owner of Galviston Ford, Zak had never stood a chance.
‘For a start, why don’t you tell me what you know about Phil Williamson,’ Brierley prompted.
‘He’s been with the firm for about four years,’ Zak said, recalling the salient facts he had so recently read in Phil’s personnel file.
‘Yes, but what’s he like?’ Brierley encouraged.
‘He’s very personable and he seems to know his job,’ Zak said with complete honesty.
‘It’s none of my business, Mr Storie, but since you’re the boss, why mess about pretending you’ve got an injured hand so you don’t have to sign a document you’re not happy with?’ Brierley looked genuinely puzzled.
Zak flushed and wavered for a moment. Dare he trust Brierley? Finally deciding that he had to trust someone, he began.
‘Everything turned pear-shaped a couple of weeks ago when I was down in Carlisle. I was there to discuss the purchase of Bill Wragg’s business. Unfortunately for me, there was a faulty electrical wire in my hotel room and I was knocked clean across the room when I touched it. By good luck it didn’t do any lasting physical damage to me but it completely screwed up my memory. I’m hoping the effect won’t be permanent but I seem to have forgotten most of the events that immediately preceded my accident and I’m having trouble remembering all my business and technical knowledge.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that, Mr Storie, and I realize it couldn’t have happened at a worse time for you. That was bad luck.’
‘I’ve been trying to hide my memory loss from Phil while I’ve been try
ing to give myself more time but I don’t think I can continue the subterfuge for very much longer.’
‘Then why bother? Accidents happen and it would be an excellent opportunity for you to put everything on hold until you feel comfortable once more. Just put your foot down and tell them to go to hell. You are the boss, after all.’
It was good advice and Zak should have taken it – but he didn’t. Perhaps it was the gambler in him, but he was now determined to see the game out to its end.
‘I’m sure that’d be the sensible thing to do, Mr Brierley, but I can’t do it. I’ve got to get to the bottom of whatever’s going on. I’m still not even sure if I should forgive my wife and get properly back with her. As for Phil Williamson, I want to make sure he pays for his treachery.’
With far more wisdom than Zak was displaying, Brierley said, ‘If you love your wife, I recommend that you forgive her and then you get on with your life. As for Williamson, sack him. Don’t let him play you for a sucker one moment longer.’
‘I’ll think about it,’ Zak said evasively.
Chapter 14
Zachary
Not daring to return to their house in Disraeli Street, and lacking the money to move into a hotel or even into cheap bed and breakfast accommodation, Zachary and Jeannie decided to ask Gloria, Jeannie’s older married sister, to help them. Gloria, who was also childless, lived with her husband, George Costello, in a large, poorly maintained Victorian house off Turnpike Lane, in North London. George, or Giorgio as his parents had christened him in his native Italy, came to Britain when he was five years old. His father, Alberto, had then opened a successful fish and chip shop in nearby Wood Green, which enabled him to bring up a family of six children, in reasonable comfort; Giorgio was the oldest. When Alberto retired, Giorgio, having long since changed his name to George, took over the family business and gradually, and against his father’s advice, had changed the fish and chip shop into a modern Pizzeria. Now, some years later, with lots of competition from large multinationals, George was regretting his decision to move away from the old but successful formula, but silly pride forced him to soldier on. It was just as well that he continued to make a sufficient profit to live on.
SWITCHED: The man who lost his body but kept his mind. Page 24