Eye for an Eye

by Bev Robitai

  Robyn gaped like a stunned mullet, unable to frame a reply.

  ‘I’ll just use the loo,’ she muttered, gathering up her purse with the rest of her clothes and edging past him into the bathroom.

  She used the private refuge to gather her woolly thoughts. What should she do?

  She pulled out her cell-phone, which was flashing a warning that its batteries were very low. She turned on the shower to cover the sound of her voice, and dialled Mike’s number again. Surely he couldn’t still be out after all this time? Apparently he could. As the answer-phone picked up, she left a hurried message.

  ‘Mike! Where the hell are you, dude? Did you get what you need? If not, don’t worry because the apartment’s going to be empty for hours. Colwyn’s taking me up to his country cottage for the day, so you can get in here for as long as you want. I’ll leave the door like last time. See you tonight, I hope. Gotta go. Bye!’

  She flicked water over her hair, had a brief wash, and tidied herself up as best she could before going out to face Colwyn.

  ‘Right then, let’s get this show on the road,’ she said, more brightly than she felt.

  ‘You’re all ready? Excellent. The car’s waiting outside.’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘Rental car,’ he explained. ‘It’s not worth owning a car in the city. For what I’d pay for parking, I can hire one when I need it with none of the running costs.’

  Out on the street a shiny black Pontiac crouched at the roadside, looking ready to spring. Robyn’s eyebrows rose.

  ‘Cool car! Let’s see what it can do!’

  Colwyn pulled into the stream of traffic with practised ease, accelerating down the one-way system and onto the expressway. The powerful engine purred as the miles sped past. Colwyn selected a classical station on the radio and turned it up loud, relieving them of the need to make conversation. Robyn found herself dozing off as the car’s movement lulled her to sleep.

  She woke groggily when they pulled into the parking area of a roadside restaurant.

  ‘Stay there, Robyn. I’ll bring your breakfast out to you.’ Colwyn shut the door and was gone.

  Robyn got out and followed him. ‘No, wait on! I’m coming inside too! You don’t know what I want, and besides, I need to pee.’

  He acquiesced with such bad grace that she began to wonder just why he’d wanted her to stay in the car. Damn this foggy thinking! She’d have been a whole lot happier if her brain was operating at full strength.

  Colwyn chose seats well away from the counter and they tucked into waffles with maple syrup, eggs and bacon, and cups of steaming coffee. Robyn hoped the coffee would help her to stay awake, as her unaccustomed drowsiness was beginning to bother her.

  Once they were back on the road again she made a determined effort to remain alert, noting the route they were taking and watching for major landmarks. Her enthusiasm waned quickly though, and before long she was nodding off again while Colwyn drove them smoothly to their destination. The next thing she knew, Colwyn had stopped the car, pulled on the hand-brake, and removed the keys.

  Robyn gasped at the two storey log-walled lodge that stood before them.

  ‘This is your idea of a cottage? I’d call it a mansion!’

  He smirked. ‘Cottage is more of a use than a description. Any holiday home is a cottage, even if it’s a large home winterised for year-round holidays.’

  She could tell he was being patronising, and was faintly concerned by the cold tone in his voice.

  ‘You mean you can come here in winter? What about all the snow and ice?’

  He shrugged dismissively. ‘The roads get ploughed, and once the lake freezes you can skate to the other side and find quite a few other houses and even some shops, though you can’t see them from here. We’re in the corner of a dog-leg on the lake, perfectly isolated and peaceful. Nobody will be disturbing us. Now come on inside.’

  Robyn climbed out of the car and stretched, sniffing the rich scent of pine forest appreciatively. ‘Ooh that’s nice. Isn’t this just so much better than the city?’

  At the far end of a path beside the house the lake lapped gently at a narrow jetty, which Robyn hurried to explore. She turned to see Colwyn watching her.

  ‘Look at this,’ she called. ‘The water’s so clear you can see right to the bottom! Are there any boats here we can use?’

  Colwyn pointed vaguely. ‘I believe there’s a canoe in the boat shed over there along with the fishing gear. Leave it till later, will you?’ She really didn’t like the tone of his voice now. ‘Come back here, Robyn, I want to show you round the cottage.’

  She came up the slope slowly, still trying to shake off her lethargy and to figure out his behaviour.

  Colwyn unlocked the solid front door and pushed her inside.

  The hallway with varnished wood walls was a two-floor atrium, through which rose a staircase with shapely banisters and a rich maroon carpet. A stained glass window in a modern design cast multicoloured patterns of light which were echoed by the thick rug covering most of the parquet floor.

  ‘Do we go upstairs?’ queried Robyn, her eyes wide at the opulence of it all.

  ‘No, that goes to the sleeping quarters. Go straight on through to the living area.’

  She crossed to the full-length window hoping to get a better idea of her surroundings. Perhaps there were neighbouring cottages in sight where she could seek refuge if necessary.

  ‘Gosh what a great view!’ she said brightly. ‘You can see for miles down the lake, and oh, there’s hardly a house in sight, is there?’

  A veranda ran the length of the lower floor, and Colwyn stepped out to join her there. A light breeze blew from the lake bringing the scent of fresh water to mingle with sun-warmed pine fragrance. Robyn took a deep breath, feeling herself relax at the familiar smells.

  ‘Oh this is heaven,’ she sighed. ‘It’s almost as good as home.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have thought there were many pine forests around Reading.’ He shot a searching glance at her. ‘What exactly do you miss about home, Robyn?’

  ‘Er, well – everything I guess. All the things that are different from what I’m used to. I mean, when you grow up in a place, you always think of it as home, don’t you?’ She rubbed her eyes. ‘I haven’t felt quite my usual self since I’ve been over here in Canada, especially today after drinking all that wine last night. How about you, Colwyn,’ she said, turning the tricky questions back to him. ‘Don’t you miss where you grew up?’

  ‘Not really. I’d rather find the best in I wherever I am at the time. That way you can be content anywhere.’

  ‘But belong nowhere.’

  ‘Exactly. I’m a free agent, no limits.’

  The breeze ruffled his sun-lit blond hair as Robyn studied his profile. ‘It’s a bit dangerous, having no limits, isn’t it?’ she asked. ‘We all need some boundaries or how would we behave?’ She felt a huge yawn welling up. ‘I think I might have a bit of a lie-down, if that’s all right with you? I’m a bit tired after the drive.’

  ‘Certainly Robyn, be my guest. You can sleep as long as you want.’

  She disappeared inside to seek out a soft bed.

  Colwyn paced the length of the veranda restlessly. A cold knot of tension squeezed his guts. The stakes he was playing for were too high to let any visiting snoops mess up the game. They had to be dealt with, no matter how much of a risk it was.

  He stretched and forced himself to relax. It would all work out. He had perfect confidence in his abilities to make sure that it did. And Harry would here soon, to take care of the direct action that was needed. Robyn just had to be kept off her guard until he arrived.

  Colwyn smiled. Just a few more weeks, and his deals would be complete. The rest of them could all go to hell after that - he’d be off to new horizons with more money than they’d ever see in a lifetime. He’d have boats and holiday homes wherever he went, and they’d be still living like ants, scratching a living from day to day as if that’s all the
re was to life. He deserved better things than that, and he intended to have every one of them.

  When Robyn woke up it was quite late and darkness had fallen on the stunning vista outside. She went in to the living area where Colwyn handed her a glass of red wine, and suggested that she take it to the bathroom where he had run her a warm bath.

  Safely alone in the bathroom, Robyn poured the wine down the sink and set the wineglass down on the countertop. Her head was only just clearing and she had no desire to repeat the previous night’s mistake. She stepped into the water and lay back with a sigh. Scented bubbles caressed her skin, and she felt her muscles easing with little pops and twitches. Her eyes closed, but her brain refused to relax. Something was nudging at her subconscious, saying ‘this is too good to be true, something’s not right’. Annoyed, she tried to work out what was bothering her. Eventually the only conclusion she could come to was that Colwyn had seemed edgy, as if something was about to happen. She only hoped he wasn’t expecting sex.

  Just as she was about to get out of the bath, she looked round to find Colwyn had entered the bathroom silently and was standing behind her. He jumped when she saw him, and smiled oddly.

  ‘More wine, Robyn?’

  ‘Oh, no thanks Colwyn. Just that one glass was enough to make me feel quite woozy again.’

  He wheeled and left the room. As soon as he was gone she dried off and dressed herself quickly to feel less at a disadvantage.

  She joined him in the living room, sitting down at the polished mahogany dining table. Watching him with an uneasy detachment, she sensed that he was leading up to something.

  ‘Robyn, I feel that we are at the stage in our relationship where we should be honest with each other. I have to confess something to you, and I think perhaps you may have something to tell me too.’

  ‘Ah, I bet I know what yours is. Come on, spill the beans.’

  ‘What’s that?’ He was taken aback.

  ‘You’ve been peeking at my things, haven’t you? I noticed my purse had been opened last night. Curious, were you?’

  He stiffened very slightly. Then he looked forlorn.

  ‘When you said you wouldn’t tell me who you were, it made me doubt all the other things you’d told me. I looked in your purse to find some answers that would mean we could be together, rather than just hiding my head in the sand pretending that it hadn’t happened. I didn’t want to confront you with a lie in case…’ He put a catch in his voice. ‘In case I lost you, Robyn. I just want to be with you. Is that so bad?’

  She raised an eyebrow. ‘No, not at all - but that acting certainly was! Come on, Colwyn, you can do better than that, I’ve seen you. What’s really going on?’

  His face changed then, letting the evil beneath show through the mask of charm. Robyn’s eyes widened.

  ‘I think you’re the one who should be telling me that, Miss Taylor. Why have you been spying on me? What’s your real reason for being here? And who are you working with?’

  ‘What? Spying on you? What on earth are you on about?’

  ‘Don’t bother to keep up that phoney British accent, Robyn, the game is up. I know you’re not English, and I’m pretty damn sure you’re not rich or expecting an inheritance - you’ve been stringing me a line and I intend to find out why. You’re a journalist, aren’t you? Doing some snooping for a newspaper or TV channel, no doubt. Some answers, please.’

  She took another breath, stalling for time to think. He obviously knew her real name, but apparently not the reason she was there. She opted to go for the truth and have it out with him at last.

  ‘Well, Colwyn, since we seem to be putting our cards on the table - the real reason I came here to Toronto was to have a little word with you.’

  She stood up and faced him defiantly. ‘In fact, I came to sort you out, mate.’

  She reached down and grabbed a handful of his shirt, pulling him to his feet before he had time to react.

  ‘You’re a thieving bastard, Colwyn, that’s why I’m here. You have no idea what happens to the people you cheat, do you? You take all you can get and leave them destitute, but you never stop to think about the consequences.’ Her voice shook with rising fury. ‘You’re a vile, lowlife prick, Colwyn Symons.’

  She hauled him half across the table while he struggled to regain his footing. ‘You want to know why I’m here? I’m here to give you a good strong message from all your poor cheated ripped-off victims, you arsehole. God I wish I had the lamb docker with me! But a damn good thrashing is going to have to do for now. Are you ready?’

  His wig had slipped to one side leaving him looking weak and vulnerable. She drew back her fist and aimed at straight his face while his mouth worked soundlessly.

  A car door slammed outside.

  Colwyn’s expression changed to a triumphant smirk that told her she might be in trouble.

  He smacked her hands away from him and sneered.

  ‘Don’t even think about it. Harry will soon beat that idea out of you, little Miss Tough Guy. Nobody messes with Colwyn Symons and gets away with it.’

  ‘Jeez Col, that’s crappy dialogue for a silver-tongued devil like you. Can’t you do better than that?’

  She shoved him forcibly back off the edge of the table and leaped for the window, eeling through it just as Harry’s squat figure appeared in the doorway.

  She shinned down the veranda support and fled into the night, seeking shelter in the trees down by the lake. If she could evade both men, she might be able to work her way back to one of the cars and make her escape.

  She moved carefully, testing each step in case there was a dry twig that would snap and betray her presence. The night was quiet, with gentle sounds of water lapping and the occasional haunting call of a loon. Trees rustled in a faint breeze, and stars plastered the heavens like confetti on a velvet dress.

  Robyn edged her way back towards the cottage, straining her ears for any movement. A door slid open with a dull rumble.

  Harry came out onto the veranda where Colwyn joined him. Robyn heard them discussing her.

  ‘If she’s run off she can’t have got far. Did you see anything on the road as you came in?’

  ‘No, Mr. Symons, nothin’ but a couple of deer. You want me to go look for her?’

  ‘Yes, Harry, hunt her down and bring her back here. I’ll watch the cars in case she tries to make a break for it. Do whatever you have to do to get her back. The sooner we can get rid of the body and get back to the city, the better.’

  Robyn felt cold sweat rolling down her face. She faded deeper into the trees and worked her way back down towards the lake. If escape by road was impossible, then she would have to try another route. She crept towards the boat shed, keeping low to the ground in case her body was silhouetted against the lake. Behind her, the door to the cottage slammed shut. Harry was out looking for her.

  She gained the cover of the shed, slipped silently inside, and picked up a lightweight plastic kayak with a paddle tucked inside it. As quietly as she could, she carried it to the lake and climbed in, careful not to make any splashes. If she paddled around the headland and across the lake, she’d find habitation and, she hoped, some help. Odds of two to one weren’t favourable enough to make a stand against them by herself. It was better to make a quick exit instead.

  The starlit sky was her only illumination, and orienting herself was a matter of seeing the shapes of the hills as patches of intense darkness against the constellations. She dipped her paddle noiselessly, propelling the kayak forward gently to leave as little wake as possible.

  She had travelled several hundred yards away from the shore when a bright spotlight beam flicked past her, searching the dark expanse of the lake. It passed across her before she could take evasive action, and came back to pick her out in sharp focus. She paddled faster now, churning up the water and leaving a foamy trail behind her as the kayak surged ahead. The light followed relentlessly.

  There was a sharp crack, and she felt the boat shudd
er. A spurt of water started to soak her feet. She paddled faster, swerving to throw off the marksman’s aim. Another crack sounded, and this time she was ready for it. The bullet smacked harmlessly into the water, but she toppled away on the far side of the kayak as if she’d been hit.

  She had gulped in several deep breaths before she went, but the sudden shock of cold water was almost enough to drive it out of her lungs. She allowed her body to float to the surface, keeping absolutely still. The spotlight raked across her and stayed for a minute, then two, while the gunman on the shore checked for signs of life. Robyn was at the end of her air supply. With lungs straining for oxygen and a roaring noise filling her ears she had to take a breath. She turned her head slowly sideways to get her mouth above the surface.

  The light had gone away.

  She rolled gently onto her side and drew in a welcome breath of sweet air, taking care to make no disturbance of the water. When there was no sound of activity on the shore, she popped her head up and trod water, planning her next move.

  She tried to guess what Colwyn and Harry would be doing, assuming that they thought she was dead. She imagined them rushing round the cottage polishing fingerprints off every surface and removing all traces of their visit. She and Colwyn had spoken to no-one in the area - in fact nobody had seen them since they had stopped for breakfast miles away. There would be nothing to connect a body in the lake with that particular cottage, or with Colwyn and Harry. Her passport was back there though, and she knew damn well he’d take all her things away with him when he left so as to prevent any identification. He’d have to remove any evidence of her at his apartment too, and on the Angel Lady. Then he’d appear an innocent golden boy to anyone who looked.

  The only weak link in his plan was that she was still alive.

  She began to swim silently towards the far shore, using breast-stroke but keeping her head above the water. If the spotlight came back she had to be ready to roll over and play dead again to keep them off her tracks. The water flowed smoothly past her neck, while her hands and feet were busy below the surface propelling her forward with barely a ripple to mark her progress. In front of her face, stars danced crazily on the inky surface.