2Promises

by Phil Armstrong

  After a couple of rings a slow voice answered “Hello?”

  “J.P. It’s me Kaigara,” she said curtly.

  “What time is it?” said J.P. sounding half asleep.

  “It’s late but I need some information,” demanded Kaigara in a tone not to be argued with.

  “Can’t it wait until morning?” pleaded J.P.

  “No, Beth Martindale, who is she and what organization does she represent?” fired Kaigara.

  “I’ve never heard of her but I’d guess Astral out of Edinburgh,” said J.P. hoping that Kaigara would go away. It worked as Kaigara thanked J.P. and disconnected. She looked at her Blackberry battery indicator; it was getting low but had enough for one more phone call. She located Jenny McGovern at Astral. She looked at her Blackberry world clock; Edinburgh would now be 5.45am. Jenny would be up and getting ready to go to the gym. Kaigara called and could hear the ringing on Jenny’s cell phone.

  “This is Jenny,” she said in a rolling Scottish accent.

  “Jenny its Kaigara, I need some info dear.”

  “Jesus Kaigara are you burning the midnight oil or what? Make it quick I need to leave the flat and get on the road in 5 minutes.”

  “Yeah, I’m busting my hump over this one and drawing a blank. I need some info on Beth Martindale. J.P. thought she was one of your lot but I suspect she’s a reporter, do you know her?”

  “Definitely not one of ours, name doesn’t ring a bell, tell you what, after the gym I’ll ask around and look at our contact lists. I’ll send you an email this morning and by the time you get to work tomorrow morning it should be sitting in your inbox. I’ll dig up some dirt for you love,” said Jenny trying to be helpful.

  “Thanks Jenny I don’t have a good feeling about this one,” responded Kaigara.

  “OK love, bye for now,” said Jenny clicking the disconnect button.

  “Damn it,” thought Kaigara, “I bet she’s a reporter.”

  Kaigara was a clever businesswoman and she knew to stay in business you had to have high ethical standards. Her upbringing and education supported this. She would not do anything that would sully her family name. Her business dealings were impeccable and audited meticulously by PriceWaterhouseCoopers. She was not worried about the facts. What concerned her was that often facts get in the way of a good story. She remembered poor old Berty. Berty was a very wealthy man from Wales who moved to Canada when he was 35 years old. He started a company, worked hard and became wealthy. He founded an organization dedicated to helping war veterans; his father was killed fighting in the line of duty. His organization did some fantastic work. A junior reporter at a local paper started to question the financial dealings of Berty’s organization. It was all over the news about the skimming, the irregularities, the wastage and the abuse of funds. The press had a field day in Canada, the United States and the UK. Most of his connections were established through the building trades and his sponsors and contributors dried up overnight. No one seemed to care about the fact that Berty was devastated by these malicious accusations. He decided to sue the reporter and the newspaper.

  A year later when he emerged from his trial it was discovered that the reporter had made gross errors and had misinterpreted certain complex legal and financial obligations. Berty’s accountants had followed the law for charitable institutions, which was radically different in Canada, the US and the UK. In order for Berty to be compliant his organization had to do things differently for each jurisdiction, hence this was seen as irregularities. The case was won easily, a settlement was reached but the damage was already done and poor Berty’s reputation was shot. The paper ended up winning by selling more newspapers. The real losers were the veterans, who cared? Kaigara did not want this to happen to her, her family’s reputation and the good work that was underway at the Reika Foundation. Kaigara looked at her watch; it was 1am she had not intended to stay this late. She tucked the Blackberry into her satin purse and pulled out a valet ticket. As she walked toward the hotel valet station a young man in a red uniform with gold trim jumped to attention. Kaigara gave him a smile and the ticket wrapped in a $10 dollar note.

  “Right away Miss, we parked it up front so it’ll only be a few seconds.”

  Kaigara waited in the lobby under the chandeliers. Through the glass revolving doors she could see people getting into their cars and speeding away into the night. A small group huddled together as they waited then wished each other a good night. Kaigara could not see her car but she could recognize the distinctive sound of the engine as it fired up. She loved that sound, it was powerful and yet classy. The car started to roll into view and stopped outside the front doors. People stared at the car and smiled. The young man hopped out of the driver’s seat and looked for Kaigara. Kaigara pushed through the revolving doors as the crisp night air hit her naked shoulders with a sting.

  She glanced at the sleek lines of the car and listened to the engine ticking over. Kaigara loved her car it was an extension of her, what she stood for and how she approached life. She drove a black Maserati Granturismo, V8, with Birdcage 20 inch wheels, bright red Brembo brake calipers, walnut trim with black leather interior and red stitching. This car looked awesome and it drove like a dream with the Maserati skyhook suspension system; its license plate read, “SWAN.” Kaigara elegantly entered the driver’s seat and swung her legs into the car. The seat was positioned too far back; she could not reach the pedals. She leaned forward and took her shoes off placing them in the passenger seat with her purse. She used her left hand to press the preset number “1” button on her seat. Everything in the car adjusted to her personal setting. The seat, steering wheel and side mirrors all moved in concert. Now she was ready to go. She checked for traffic in her mirrors. The lights had activated automatically and she pushed the walnut encased gearshift into drive. A large green “D” appeared between the Maserati’s blue colored gauges. Kaigara gently tapped the accelerator and with a growl in the exhaust pipes the car lunged forward. The sound echoed in the enclosed valet area and it sounded powerful. Kaigara passed two golden lion statues and merged into the traffic on Front Street. She quickly turned south towards Lake Ontario.

  She drove a few short minutes stopping and starting through numerous traffic lights. She was soon on the harbor front and Queens Quay. She weaved between the slower moving cars before veering to the right. She proceeded down a ramped entrance to the private parking area of a luxury condominium building. Kaigara reached upwards to press a button on her sun visor. It was programmed to open the security door leading to the parking area in her building. The security camera mounted high above the ramp tracked the Maserati into the building and identified the license plate. With a distinctive car like this the security guard knew it was Ms. Tanaka. Kaigara drove into the building, turned a sharp left and counted three concrete pillars. A sign announced parking space number 32 was reserved for Ms. Tanaka. This space was a particularly good one as two concrete support pillars flanked it and no one could share the space or accidently dent the door.

  Kaigara drove past the space, shifted into reverse and backed into the parking spot. To her rear was a brick wall, the parking system showed a graphic on the computer screen between the gauges. The car sounded a beep and the parking sensor icon was green colored. As Kaigara slowly backed up the icon went from green to yellow to red. The beep intensified and sounded like a patient had flat lined in hospital. Kaigara did not look backwards; she looked at the parking sensor readings. At the flat line sound she shifted into park and the Maserati automatically applied the electric brake. She glanced downwards and pulled her key fob out from the steering column. Kaigara grabbed her purse, slipped on her shoes and locked the car listening to the beep echo in the underground parking lot. She approached the exit door and saw the night guard holding the door open for her.

  “How’s Tony tonight?”

  “Fine, thank you Miss. You’re out late tonight so I thought I would walk you to the elevators,” offered Tony.

  To
ny was 28 years old and he could not decide what he liked the look of most, the Maserati or Kaigara. He knew he did not have to make a choice because he would not get either. Tony opened the door to the parking garage leading to a long narrow passage. At the end of the passage was another door. Kaigara walked through the first door and Tony followed. Tony decided to check her out now. Once they entered through the second door they would be in the main lobby area of the condominium. It was completely mirrored and she would catch him sneaking a peek. As Kaigara walked towards the second door Tony’s eyes dropped immediately to the small of her back partially naked in the low cut dress. He stared at the fabric of her dress and how it moved over her rear end as she walked in those heels. He lifted his eyes just in time as she spun around and stared at him.

  “I’ll get that,” said Tony smiling innocently and opening the second door. Kaigara walked through and waited at the elevators. Tony pressed the elevator call button. A high-pitched sound announced the arrival of one of the elevators. Kaigara had retrieved her key from her purse. She stepped into the wood paneled elevator and inserted her key into the security slot before turning it clockwise. She tapped the number 7 and looked at Tony waiting in the lobby.

  “Good night, Tony,” she said with a smile.

  “Good night, Miss,” said Tony desperately trying to keep eye contact.

  The elevator doors closed and Kaigara started to laugh. She knew what affect she had on Tony. Her taste leaned towards a more refined man when she decided it was time for such a luxury. The elevator announced its arrival at the seventh floor and the doors opened on cue. Kaigara knew Tony was now watching her over the security system until she stepped into her apartment. She walked to the end of the hall and approached the door with gold numbers showing 732. Kaigara’s apartment was a corner unit overlooking Lake Ontario and providing city views of the Toronto skyline. It was professionally decorated with original oil paintings, tapestries, sculptures and antiques. Kaigara stepped inside and immediately disabled the alarm system. The apartment lights were motion activated and she glanced at the clock on the wall, it was 1.30am. She knew if she went to bed now she would never sleep.

  “I’m calling David Wilks, it’ll be about 6.30am in London, he’s an early bird,” thought Kaigara. “Damn,” said Kaigara softly punching her fist into her thigh. “I don’t have his number in my Blackberry. Yes,” she said excitedly, “I have it in my day timer.” Kaigara walked into her study and picked up her leather briefcase leaning against her desk. She clicked open the briefcase flap and pulled out her day timer. She opened the book to today and laid it flat on the desk. “When did I speak with him last?”Kaigara thumbed through a couple of pages until she saw the handwritten note. “David Wilks, Blue Phoenix Group.” The phone number was printed next to it. Kaigara dialed the number using her apartment phone and perched on the edge of her desk. The phone rang a couple of times.

  “Hello, David Wilks,” was the greeting.

  “I knew you were a morning person, it’s Kaigara Tanaka calling. How are you?” she said sounding tired.

  “I’m fine Kaigara but if you’re calling about the Kingston project my client has decided against it, I thought we discussed this?” asked David in an irritated tone.

  “No, sorry, that’s not the nature of my call,” said Kaigara sounding apologetic. “I’ve a question to ask you, more of a favor really?”

  “Shoot, I have a meeting in 15 minutes, how can I help you?” said David.

  “I know that you’re well connected and I wondered if you had come across a certain name who claims to be the head of an investment group. She says that she might be interested in making a donation to my foundation but I’m suspicious of her motives and credentials,” said Kaigara as quickly as she could.

  “What’s the name?” asked David curtly.

  “Miss Beth Martindale,” offered Kaigara. There was silence on the other end of the phone as David ran possible responses through his head and assessed the consequences of each.

  “I can vouch for Miss Martindale being the head of an Investment company and should she decide to donate she has the means to do so. I cannot comment on her decisions but I can say that she is a wealthy client of mine,” said David.

  “Which organization does she represent David?” asked Kaigara bluntly.

  Again after some silence David responded, “It’s now public record so I think that I’m within my rights to disclose that information. Miss Martindale has assumed control of the Generosity Account and its global operations.”

  “What happened to Anwar?” inquired Kaigara.

  “Didn’t you hear? Anwar’s passed away, Beth Martindale is Anwar now,” said David.

  “Thanks David, I really appreciate this, I’m sorry to bother you,” said Kaigara disconnecting. Kaigara was stunned. Anwar had died; he was a true friend in a world of fakes. Now she knew she was going to meet Miss Beth Martindale.

  * * * * *

  12.15pm, Jet Airways, Gate 323, Mumbai Airport, Mumbai, India.

  Beth handed over her boarding pass and passport to another yellow jacket wearing supermodel and smiled. The Jet Airways attendant scanned her boarding pass efficiently. She returned Beth’s passport and the boarding pass stub. Beth walked confidently forward to start the next leg of her journey, the flight to London. As she reached the front door of the plane, another yellow jacket welcomed Beth onboard escorting her to her seat.

  Beth looked at the cabin layout and thought, “Great! Pods again.” The pods were arranged in a herringbone style giving her ultimate privacy. Beth stored her backpack in the overhead and settled in for a long flight. She browsed her itinerary, nine and a half hours flying time landing at 5.55pm local time. A woman arrived and crouched in front of Beth.

  “Hello, Miss Martindale, my name is Bindi. I’ll be looking after you on this flight. I just wanted to confirm that our records show that you have elected not to have any meals on this flight is that correct?”

  “Yes, thank you,” said Beth feeling guilty.

  “Very well, but if you change your mind just give me a call,” said Bindi with a wide smile.

  “Thank you,” responded Beth. She really liked their service approach it was refreshing. It reminded her of the service at The Astor Hotel. Beth had to refuse Champagne; nuts; juice and water it was starting to become embarrassing. She soon settled down into her pod to watch a movie. Bindi arrived with a small bag of popcorn. How wonderful was that? This airline was great. Unfortunately Beth had to refuse that also. Beth could smell the popcorn and it smelt fantastic. Bindi was again polite and gracious in accepting Beth’s refusal. The movie was a romantic comedy. It centered on an American boy who falls in love with an Indian call center girl. Romance and cultural differences were the key themes. The movie was entertaining and funny. Beth appreciated the change of pace, bubblegum for the mind. After the movie finished she took her headphones off and looked around. The cabin was quiet; it was the perfect time to practice her aura readings. She found the menu card, which had a plain white back. She held her fingers together and slowly drew them apart about a quarter of an inch while concentrating. Subra started to open her energy paths and chakras. Beth was skeptical but became instantly engaged as she saw a thin luminous strand of violet energy pulsing between her two fingers. She stared at the light and moved her fingers gently apart breaking the luminous strand. She held her hand up to her face and concentrated. Between her fingers, for an eighth of an inch, surrounding her hand she could see a light border. She could see a fuzzy looking Indigo colored energy layer. She stared at her hand concentrating hard when a man walked by and gave her a questioning look. Beth pulled her hand down quickly but her eyes tracked the back of the man as he made his way to the bathroom. Beth’s mouth hung open as she could see three colors surrounding the man. His ground color was definitely Green with layers of Yellow and Silver.

  “Wow,” said Beth under her breath. “I can see these things.”

  Subra had figured out the energ
y flows and had managed to unblock the aura energy from her eyes and focus it through her third eye. Subra was having fun; he was limited to Beth’s physical body as his current universe. Not having a physical body he could navigate along Beth’s meridian lines. He always thought of a body as a discarded shell after the soul moved on. He was amazed at how intricate this organism was. When the man disappeared into the washroom Beth felt herself relax and sink into her reclined chair.