‘Don’t worry about him,’ Zak said as he tried to control his breathing. ‘Go and call the police.’
Ignoring Zak’s plea, Naomi bent down and picked up the cosh which Phil had released when his head hit the fireplace. Then, with a smile on her lovely face, she walked back to Zak and held it out to him.
He returned her smile and was about to thank her and tell her once again to get out and call the police when her face hardened and with a sudden movement that caught him completely off balance, she brought the cosh up with considerable force into his crotch. As he gasped in pain and bent over, she walloped him once more with it; this time over the head. Without a sound, he fell at her feet.
Chapter 18
Zachary
Zachary was quietly relaxing on top of his bed when George and Gloria returned home from the funeral. The time was well after midnight and they showed their displeasure with their brother-in-law, who they believed had been too frightened to attend the funeral ceremony, by talking loudly, by playing loud music and by deliberately crashing and banging about. It was clearly their intention to disturb him and if he were asleep so much the better. As it happened, they were wasting their time and energy; sleep was furthest from Zachary's thoughts. He was excited and on a high after the events of his day and since arriving back at his in-law’s house, had been considering all the different methods he might use to make Sinclair pay for what he had done.
He had seen Sinclair’s two heavies deliver the daily takings from the betting shops to their boss’s home, which he assumed must be a regular occurrence. As a businessman who had been presented with similar opportunities, this immediately suggested to him that Sinclair was almost certainly creaming off a percentage of the takings before he banked them. This further implied that Sinclair kept a safe or strong box in his house into which he placed cash and other valuables for safekeeping. That was when a brilliant thought occurred to him. Carrying it out was fraught with danger and difficulty but if it worked out, it would put paid to Sinclair once and for all.
In some respects, developments in his home dimension were behind those in his present one but in many more ways his home dimension was technologically well ahead of where he now was and as he thought about the sort of safe Sinclair might use, he wondered if it was like the ones he had been forced to junk five years earlier. People in his home dimension had been forced to stop using safes secured with combination locks when someone posted on the Internet a simple, easily constructed electronic circuit that, quickly and accurately, was able to detect the combination of any tumbler-operated combination lock. Naturally, it had created an international furore at the time and safe and lock manufacturers had tried desperately to get the information banned. But, as with anything to do with the Internet, control proved impossible. Zachary, who had owned two expensive combination lock safes, one in his place of business and another in his home, had been put to considerable expense when the circuit was posted. To prove to himself that the circuit really did work, out of curiosity and because he was a competent engineer, he had made it up and tested it himself before actually throwing his safes away. He believed he could do so again if necessary.
It seemed that combination lock safes were still popular in this new dimension. Even George had one in his home. Zachary decided that his single most important task now was to find out if the safe in Sinclair’s home was one secured with a combination lock. If it was and if he could remember the circuit, opening it would be child’s play. There were far too many ‘ifs’ in the plan already but by far the biggest problem would be finding out if the man owned such a safe. Then, he had to discover where Sinclair kept it. It was a plan fraught with difficulties since even getting into the house was a major problem. Almost certainly, it was fully alarmed.
The plan, while good in its basic idea, contained far too many imponderables. Also, unlike in his dimension, the people here, and with good reason, were much more security conscious. What he needed was someone on the inside who could give him the information he needed. With these thoughts running through his mind, he eventually fell asleep. As he lay snuggled under his duvet, for the first time in weeks he had a smile of contentment on his face. He was finally making progress and Jeannie was expected back the next day.
Jeannie didn’t arrive back at the house until mid afternoon. George always closed his pizzeria for a couple of hours in the afternoon when business was at its most slack and he had only just arrived back when Jeannie walked in. Hearing her voice, Zachary hurried down to the kitchen where the others were chatting together.
Going across to Jeannie, he gave her a big kiss, aware, at the same time that an uncomfortable silence had fallen on the room. Trying to ignore it, he asked how her mother was bearing up; how the reception had gone; how she was and in various other ways, he tried hard to involve his wife in conversation. She, however, replied either with a single word or as briefly as possible. Zachary also noticed that not once did she look at him. Concerned that he was losing her, the one genuine friend he had in this world of strangers, he looked anxiously at his sister and brother-in-law. With no hint of sympathy on their faces, they both smirked insolently back at him. They were enjoying his discomfiture.
The way they looked at him made Zachary see red. He was in a situation not of his own making; he’d been accused of the most horrendous crimes; he’d been attacked and frightened almost out of his wits; and to add insult to injury, he’d been given a fat, soft, useless body. Who the hell were they to judge him? Tucking his stomach in and drawing himself up to his full height, he glared back at his in-laws.
‘You have no idea what’s going on here.’ He almost snarled at them, causing the smirks to disappear as if by magic. ‘You only think you do and on that basis you feel qualified to judge me; but believe me, whatever you think, you couldn’t be further from the truth.’
Both George and Gloria seemed surprised by Zachary’s outburst but he was by no means finished.
‘You’ve both made it abundantly clear that you dislike me and that you have no time for me. Strange as it may seem to you, I don’t even blame you. I don’t like what I am, either. I also know I haven’t been an ideal husband to Jeannie, even though she’s been a wonderful wife to me.’
At these words, Jeannie looked up quickly and before she could stop him, he leaned down and kissed her forehead. George and Gloria were beginning to look somewhat embarrassed, but he still had not finished.
‘Jeannie and I have some very difficult problems to overcome and we appreciate all the help you’ve given us but I won’t allow you to try to undermine the very special relationship we have with each other. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I have something private I wish to say to my wife.’
So saying, he caught hold of Jeannie’s arm and before she could even think of resisting, he conducted her out of the kitchen and up the stairs to their room. As soon as he had firmly closed and locked the door behind him, Zachary caught hold of Jeannie and kissed her passionately on the mouth but immediately he detected something was missing.
‘I’m sorry, Zak’ she said. ‘I’m all confused and I’m not ready for this yet.’
‘That’s all right, Jeannie. I can understand.’
‘Can you, Zak? Can you also understand why I might be disappointed that you didn’t even bother to come to Barry's funeral? Everyone mentioned it. I didn’t know what to say.’
‘Wasn’t it just as well I didn’t go in the circumstances?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Didn’t Inspector Connolly and his sidekick turn up? I know there were plenty of people there - Barry must have been very popular - but I’d be in prison by now if I had showed up, wouldn’t I?’
‘Who told you about Connolly?’ Jeannie demanded, looking suspiciously at him.
‘No one did, Jeannie. I heard what he said because I was standing right next to you when he came up to ask about me.’
Jeannie shot a startled look at Zak. ‘How can you say such an obvious lie?’
>
‘Do you remember that funny old man? He was the last one out of the Chapel of Rest and you asked him if there was anyone else left inside. He was still standing next to you when Connolly came up to you.’
‘Was he a friend of yours? Was he the one who told you about Connolly?’
‘No, Jeannie. That wasn’t a friend. That was me.’
‘What on earth are you talking about, Zak. Are you telling me you spoke to me and I didn’t even recognise you?’
Zak was having a great time. He’d been rather clever and was now thoroughly enjoying showing off to this wonderful woman. Letting go of Jeannie’s hand he went across to the cupboard where he kept all the paraphernalia he had used to change his appearance. Putting the wig, the nose and the glasses on and using the same voice he had practised he said, ‘I used to drink in the same pub as young Barry and I thought it would be the right thing to pay my last respects to the lad.’
Jeannie’s eyes opened wide in astonishment. ‘My gawd, it really was you,’ she said in a whisper, ‘and I never recognised you.’ Going over, she gave him a big kiss of gratitude. Her man had not let her down after all. Hand in hand, they sat on the bed while Zak told her how he had also spoken to George and even to Connolly.
‘You don’t know how pleased I am that you went to the funeral, Zak, but how did you get there in time. Gloria said you were still here when they left.’
‘Didn’t George tell you about my motor cycle?’
Jeannie looked confused. ‘What motor cycle?’
Once again he had an opportunity to show off. He wanted to look good in Jeannie’s eyes. In fact, it was more than that; he needed to look good in Jeannie’s eyes, and he savoured the moment. He told her how he had bought an old, broken down motor cycle almost for nothing and how, over the following couple of days had transformed it into a fully operational machine.
‘It’s behind the garage. I’ll show it to you later,’ he promised.
‘I didn’t even know you could ride a motor cycle, Zak, and I would never have believed you’d know how to repair a broken one.’
‘I like to surprise my woman,’ he laughed. ‘But that’s not all. Just wait until I tell you what I did after the funeral. As you know, I didn’t go to the wake because I wasn’t sure my disguise would survive that long. Instead, I decided to do a little spying on our mutual friends Hancock and Snell.’
He then went on to tell her how they had eventually led him to Sinclair’s private residence.
‘I got to thinking when I came back here last night,’ he continued. ‘I reckon Sinclair keeps a big safe in his house and I’m pretty confident I can open it.’
‘Come on Zak. Are you telling me that as well as being able to change your appearance and being a whiz with motor cycles, you’re also an expert locksmith?’
‘I have to admit to being quite knowledgeable about engines, Jeannie. Unfortunately, I can only open combination locks. I’m no good at picking locks. But the chances are, because most people don’t realize just how vulnerable combination locks are, that’s probably where Sinclair keeps his valuables.’
‘And here I was thinking I knew everything there was to know about you, Zak. How wrong could I be?’
‘Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’re not the first person to underestimate me,’ he said. Then, using his best Humphrey Bogart impression, he said, ‘Come here, kid. Before I tell you what I'm gonna do next, I’m gonna make wild, noisy love to you and the noisier the better. I don’t want George or Gloria to get the wrong idea.’
Jeannie giggled and snuggled up closer.
Ten minutes later, Gloria turned shocked eyes towards her husband. The sounds reverberating from above their heads were unmistakable. If Jeannie had been an ardent lover before, she now positively sizzled. It was if she felt she had to make up to her man for her temporary loss of faith in him. Zachary was not about to complain.
There was no shortcut to obtaining the information Zachary needed to carry out his plan and the next day he began his surveillance of “The Cedars”, as Sinclair’s prestigious home was called. He remembered there was a small copse of trees opposite the driveway into the house and having found somewhere to hide his motorcycle further down the road, he arrived opposite the entrance to Sinclair’s country mansion at six-thirty in the morning. He was armed with camera, thermos flask, sandwiches and warm clothing. He knew it was likely to be a long, uncomfortable wait but with a firm resolve not to let either Jeannie or Barry down, Zachary settled in position to wait. To be less conspicuous, he wore clothes that merged in well with the undergrowth into which he burrowed and with a handmade cover hanging over his face so that only his eyes showed through, he reckoned it was unlikely anyone would spot him.
He was ready with his camera when, at eight-thirty, someone in a large, flashy Bentley drove out of the main gate. He also saw someone he guessed must be the cleaning lady arrive at ten o-clock. Shortly afterwards, he took a photograph of an attractive woman driving a silver coloured Porsche sports car as it emerged from Sinclair’s driveway. He guessed she was probably Mrs Sinclair, Connor’s wife. He was then forced to wait another agonising two hours until midday when the cleaning lady departed. He had quickly discovered that there was very little room to stretch his aching limbs in his chosen hideout and he was really suffering. Sinclair and his wife returned separately just before one o’clock; presumably for lunch.
By this time, Zachary’s limbs were crying out for release, and he finally convinced himself that, with the pair so recently back home, it was probably safe to have a stretch. He moved deeper into the copse and after relieving himself ate the simple lunch he had brought with him. Before settling down for a second session of spying, he rearranged his hideout to give himself more room for movement. Another hour went by before an older woman came tottering down the drive pulling a large canvas shopping trolley behind her. It was then about three in the afternoon. Zachary photographed her as well and then watched as she went down the road to the garage. She returned some twenty minutes later hauling a somewhat heavier shopping trolley behind her. He guessed she was probably the live-in cook.
Acting on impulse, Zachary took off his camouflaged outer clothing and walked up the road to the garage. Instead of the man who had served him the previous day, a middle-aged woman now stood behind the counter. He bought a newspaper and then struck up a conversation with her. He told her he had come to live locally and was out for a walk. After discussing generalities he said, ‘was that that bookie’s wife I just saw going up the drive to his house? She was pulling a great big shopping bag behind her. With a grin, he added, ‘I must say, she didn’t look like the lady of the mansion.’
The garage proprietor’s wife laughed. ‘No, that was Mary Beldon. She’s their live-in cook and maid. The wife wouldn’t be seen dead pulling a shopping trolley. A right stuck up tart she is. She landed on her feet when she married that Sinclair bloke, and that’s the truth of it. According to Mary, she used to be a model or something. ‘Or something’ is nearer the mark if you ask me,’ she added darkly, giving Zachary a knowing look.
‘I know the sort you mean,’ he agreed.
‘She lives the life of Riley now, what with fast cars, yachts and foreign holidays whenever she feels like it. Yes, she really landed on her feet when she married Sinclair,’ she repeated somewhat wistfully.
‘How about this Mary Beldon? Does she like working for them?’ Zachary knew he was taking a chance asking such a direct question but he was desperate for information.
‘He’s all right but madam can be a bit of a tartar, according to Mary. Still, what with all the holidays she goes on, she’s hardly ever there.’
‘She’s there now, though, isn’t she?’ As soon as he said it, Zachary realized he had made a mistake. Why should he know that Sinclair’s wife was presently in residence when moments earlier he had pretended not to know the woman? Fortunately, his slip went unnoticed. The garage lady was so full of indignation at the lifestyle of Sinclair’s wif
e, and with few people to chat to during the day, she rose magnificently to the bait.
‘Not for long though. She’s away for a long weekend to Venice tomorrow. It seems hubby is going to be at the races over in Epsom all weekend so madam has decided to top up her tan. More likely, she’s got herself a fancy man in Italy if you ask me. Still, according to Mary, he does all right for himself as well when his wife’s away. They’re well matched in that department.’
Once again Zak detected the envy in the woman’s voice but it was all he could do to stop himself jumping for joy. But the garage lady had yet more good news to impart.
‘Yes, he’ll have the place to himself this weekend and whenever the pair of them play away, if you know what I mean, he always sends Mary off to her sister’s place down in Eastbourne so he won’t be disturbed. Mary was in here just now topping up the larder for him so he doesn’t run out when she’s not there. Oh yes, they’re both looking forward to a bit of entertainment this weekend, you mark my words.’
Zachary had a spring in his step when he finally left the garage. He now knew all he needed to know to carry out the next part of his plan. He gathered up all his outer clothing and made his way back to where he had hidden his motorbike. His luck had finally turned, and with a vengeance because, just as he started his motorcycle, Sinclair’s flashy Bentley whooshed passed. Once again, acting on impulse, he followed the bookie at a safe distance. He had no idea where the man was heading but something told him he had to keep Sinclair in sight. The traffic was heavy and the going was slow. They continued on for almost an hour before he saw the Bentley pull into the drive of a smart house in Virginia Water. As his other self had watched Phil Williamson kissing his wife, Zachary now saw Sinclair kiss another woman. It seemed the garage lady was right, Sinclair had a mistress. The thought gave Zachary considerable concern.
SWITCHED: The man who lost his body but kept his mind. Page 30