From Nemesis Island

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From Nemesis Island Page 12

by Christine Mustchin


  Don laughed as Richard dragged his suitcase and shoulder bag into his office.

  ‘Don’t,’ said Richard. ‘Trish brought out a load of stuff when she visited. I had to buy a larger suitcase. She always thinks I travel too light.’

  ‘Remind me never to send you to a war zone.’ Don chuckled sympathetically. ‘So, what’ve you got for me? You’ve been keeping your cards close to your chest.’

  Richard took out his camera. The digital images had come out well. He had become adept at the surreptitious photo and was pleased as he scrolled the pictures forward. They gave a very good impression of the place. The island was only a distant image despite the zoom. There were few photos of people but he had managed to get a shot of Father Piontius, which he felt bad about, as it was taken unawares, and without his permission, as he left the church after mass one day. The coup-de-grace, though, was the group of two men and Gea, the girl from the priest’s house, taken on that last day. This time, the zoom had produced a detailed image of the trio. They studied the three figures on the screen.

  ‘She’s quite a looker, I must say,’ commented Don.

  ‘All the girls on the island are, Don. There’s not a single exception. I don’t know how they get hold of them but I bet it’s always like that.’

  ‘So you think there’s something going on?’

  ‘I’m pretty sure there’s something suspicious about the place. Certainly there’s more to it than the official visit leads us to believe. You don’t have deliveries of industrial quantities of sex aids to an educational establishment for no reason.’

  Richard could not resist the hyperbole.

  ‘And the girl who showed me round was genuinely scared at the end of the afternoon. I have a feeling she was in for some sort of punishment for letting me go off on my own. Can’t be sure of course, but it would fit.’

  ‘Sex aids eh. Tell me more.’

  Richard gave a summary of his trip to the island and his time at the port. Don listened patiently until he had finished.

  ‘So, have you got a theory about what’s going on?’

  ‘Well, it’s all speculation at this stage but I have come up with a hypothesis.’ He paused again.

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘All the girls are very attractive. Attractive girls plus sex aids suggests prostitution to me.’

  ‘What, like an exclusive brothel on the island?’

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘ Possible I suppose. Do you think there could be anything else going on?’

  ‘I don’t know. Could be. Prostitution usually goes hand in hand with other illegal activities.’

  ‘Not a lot to go on though.’

  ‘Exactly. I’d like to go back and rout around a bit.’

  ‘Have you got any leads?’

  ‘I think so. I think the local priest knows quite a bit and if I could find a way onto the island unofficially, I could find out more.’

  ‘Be careful with that one. I can’t sanction trespassing. You’d be on your own.’

  ‘Fair enough but I still think it would be worth a try.’

  ‘You’re determined aren’t you?’

  ‘Yeah. It seems to me that these inspection visits are a bit of a charade. I’d like to find out what’s behind it all.’

  ‘I had a hunch myself that all was not what it seemed. That’s why I wanted you to go.’

  ‘You never said.’

  ‘Let’s just say I couldn’t.’

  Richard opened his mouth to speak.

  ‘And no questions,’ Don continued.

  Richard smiled. ‘So I can go back then?’

  ‘Okay. But I’ll need some copy off you before you return. Can you do a piece without mentioning the island?’

  ‘I’d rather not.’

  ‘What, not even as a potential holiday destination!’

  ‘I’ll drum up something else.’

  ‘By the end of the week please or you’ll have to produce that holiday piece.’

  Richard thought he would worry about that later. He’d got what he wanted and now he had to set things straight with Trish. Before that, though, he needed a good dose of caffeine to clear his head. He dumped his bags in front of the coffee machine. He pulled a face at the first sip of the insipid liquid that passed as coffee.

  ‘Grim eh?’ It was Dougie. ‘Watcha mate. Coffee awful then?’

  ‘You don’t say. Good to see you Dougie.’

  ‘So how’s it going?’

  ‘Seems I can go back again soon. Don’s just okayed it. If it works out it’ll be a good story.’

  ‘Lucky bastard.’

  ‘Things not so good here then? Still no change?’

  ‘Too right. I asked to move to the Sports section, more my thing, but no way.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Between you and me I’ve contacted my old editor back home. If he’s got a place I’ll go back to Oz.’

  ‘You’re not kidding?’

  ‘No mate. I’ve done my time here in the old country. Time to move on. Get back to the Aussie beer. Talking of which, you free tonight?’

  ‘Things to do tonight, mate.’

  ‘Like with Trish eh?’

  Richard laughed.

  ‘How about tomorrow?’

  ‘No probs. See you tomorrow. I like the suitcase.’ Dougie indicated the outsize specimen at their feet. ‘Trish been at you again?’

  ‘Too right.’

  5

  The place looked immaculate. You’d hardly know there was anyone living there. Richard put down his bags and strolled around the flat. God she was obsessively tidy, not even a magazine in sight. He went into the main bedroom and proceeded to muddy the waters. In no time he had transformed the room into an archetypal bachelor pad. He looked around. Trish would not be pleased and that was not the way to start off. He made his best attempt at following her example, in a state of wonderment that she could succeed in eradicating all signs of human daily life from the place where she lived. He had at least achieved a modicum of order in his personal effects when he heard the front door click shut. He left the bedroom quickly, closing the door firmly behind himself and holding a package behind his back.

  ‘Dick.’

  ‘Hi.’

  ‘Been in long?’

  ‘No. I stopped off at the office first.’

  Trish was already striding towards the bedroom door.

  ‘Hang on.’ Richard stopped her and pushed the package into her hands.

  ‘What’s this then?’ Trish was not used to receiving presents from him.

  ‘Open it.’

  Inside was a small bottle of perfume. Trish was not sure if the shape of the glass suggested a heart or female breasts.

  ‘Try it,’ urged Richard.

  Trish took off the gold top and upturned the bottle, spilling a few drops onto her fingertips.

  She dabbed the scent behind her ears and then held her fingers in front of her nose. She smiled a little and nodded, holding out her hand for him to smell the perfume too.

  ‘Thanks. I don’t have anything for you.’

  ‘Oh yes you do,’ he replied and moved quickly to close up the space between them, holding her tightly and pressing himself urgently against her. She didn’t resist when he kissed her, nor when he began removing her clothes piece by piece. They were now scrabbling at each other on the floor, half dressed, half naked, desire, lust, longing all mixed together in a frantic frenzy of sexual need. Their breaths came heavily with the nonsensical sounds of coitus. Cushions were pulled hastily to the floor to add comfort to their coupling. They rolled around each other and then Trish lay back as he slipped between her legs and took what he had been waiting for. Afterwards they lay side by side until the chill of the room passed a shiver across their skin. They both ran laughing together to the big shower room to continue the pleasure of holding and touching each other in the stream of hot water. It was only after they had dried each other and snuggled into bathrobes that Trish registered the disorder in the bedroom. Ric
hard saw her expression.

  ‘I know. I’ve done my best.’

  She went back into the dining room and picked up the piles of scattered clothes, systematically tidying away what was there. Richard lay back on the bed staring at the ceiling. At length she came back and lay beside him. For a brief moment they held each other without speaking. The expected scolding did not come, so Richard made bold.

  ‘I thought we could go out to Pierre’s tonight. I could murder some top class cooking. I’m sure he could fit us in later on.’

  Trish sat upright.

  ‘Sorry Dick. Not tonight. I’ve got a business engagement.’

  ‘Can’t you postpone it? I’ve only just got back.’

  ‘’Fraid not.’

  ‘But you knew I was arriving today.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Didn’t you think it would be good to have some time together.’

  ‘Look Dick, I can’t always fit in with your plans.’

  ‘Now and again would be nice.’

  ‘We’ll go to Pierre’s tomorrow.’

  ‘I’m busy tomorrow. I’m meeting Doug.’

  ‘Ah, Doug.’

  ‘Yes, Doug.’

  ‘Can’t change that then.’

  ‘No, I can’t.’

  ‘Well, we’ll just have to see then, won’t we? I’ve got to get ready now. Don’t forget to hang up your bathrobe when you get dressed,’ she said sharply.

  ‘Welcome home,’ said Richard ruefully, as he lay back on the bed again and reached for the TV remote.

  6

  The grey clouds of daytime had converted themselves into a fine evening drizzle. No one stayed on the streets longer than necessary. There were a few cyclists at large and the buses appeared crowded. The water dripped without respite onto the windscreen of the taxi, only to be pushed rhythmically aside by the wipers. Trish checked again for her umbrella and watched the passing cars shoot spray across the pavement as their wheels hit a puddle in the road. This time he had chosen the Hilton for their encounter. The view overlooking London would be fantastic, Dick would agree with her on that. She hadn’t bothered to enlighten him on her destination or the nature of her engagement. She felt he would not approve of Jalbis Zachion. This made her all the more determined to enjoy the encounter, despite a tiny parcel of guilt that she had no intention of unwrapping. She hadn’t wanted Dick’s return to end in an argument but she’d had no choice as to which evening to meet her prospective client. The trip was imminent. Another hurdle to negotiate with Dick for sure and she’d rather keep her energies for business.

  They had arranged to meet in the foyer. This time Trish was five minutes late. She had no desire to stand around at the entrance of a luxury hotel looking like an escort girl in waiting. This time he greeted her with a light brush of the lips on her cheek. We are making progress, she thought, and quickly reprimanded herself. With old- fashioned courtesy he invited her to step into the lift and they joined another couple also ascending to the heights of the Hilton bar. Lights were beginning to sparkle across the London skyline as they took their seats. Again champagne was the exclusive drink.

  ‘I thought this would be a good opportunity to discuss arrangements for the trip,’ he said, ‘and also a good way to spend a pleasant evening.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she replied, ‘ I appreciate the thought.’

  ‘It’s always a pleasure to do business when one is in good company.’

  She let the compliment pass and instead asked about the itinerary.

  ‘I’ll meet you at the airport. If you could be there one hour before the flight time I’ll take care of everything else. These are the flight details.’

  He handed her a piece of paper which she put in her bag without examination.

  ‘I’ve booked you into the best hotel in the city so I hope you’ll be comfortable. There should be time for a little sightseeing as well as the necessary business. Unfortunately on the afternoon of the first day I shall have to absent myself. I have a prior commitment that I cannot alter. However, I’ve arranged for a private viewing for you at the city’s art gallery. I do hope you understand.’

  ‘Of course,’ she answered politely.

  ‘Now, let’s forget these boring details and concentrate on the evening. It’s a remarkable view, isn’t it?’

  ‘It’s outstanding.’

  ‘Yes, London has a lot to offer. It’s a very exciting place and I’m impressed by the signs of wealth that you see all around you.’

  ‘Really.’ Trish was struck by the comment.

  ‘I’m afraid my country does not stand up well when compared to yours. We have had problems with financing recent industrialisation and, with internal conflicts only just resolved, it is only within the last five years that things are slowly beginning to improve. There is still a long way to go, however. My country will seem rather backward to you as an educated, sophisticated European.’

  ‘It sounds intriguing. I look forward to seeing it.’

  ‘You’ll only have a chance to see the city so I don’t think you’ll really be aware of a big disparity. We have very good museums and one major art gallery, and the architecture of the capital is beautiful, if that interests you.’

  ‘Yes, I like wandering around cities and getting a feel for a place.’

  ‘I’m afraid you won’t have time for that,’ he said, a trifle abruptly, ‘ but I shall certainly be happy to escort you around one or two points of interest.’

  It seemed to Trish that a woman wandering freely about the city was not to be condoned. Where was this place? She pulled out of her handbag the piece of paper that he had given her.

  ‘I’ll just go over the flight details in case there are any queries,’ she explained.

  At once she recognised the name of the airport. She had only passed through it a few days ago on her way back from visiting Richard. She hastily put away the details to hide the trembling that had begun in her hands. She felt flushed and not a little anxious.

  ‘Are you all right?’ asked Dr Zachion.

  ‘Yes, thank you. It’s just a bit hot in here.’

  ‘I agree. We’ll have the waiter take our champagne to our table now. It will be cooler in the restaurant.’

  His customary aplomb and the excellence of the food soon dispelled her feelings of anxiety, and by the end of the meal she had convinced herself not to worry about the trip. After all, she had managed to extract herself from a very tricky situation last time and this visit was most unlikely to present a similar problem. Confidence restored, she drank her coffee, looking beyond her companion to the backdrop of the dark night sky. Jalbis Zachion leant forward and she moved her eyes to meet his.

  ‘It’s been a lovely evening,’ he said warmly, and reached across the table to place a hand on hers.

  Trish experienced a frisson of pleasure at his touch, which she relinquished with regret.

  7

  ‘So you’re de-fin-ite-ly off.’ Richard emphasised each syllable.

  ‘Yep. Oz is about to welcome a new Sports Editor. My old boss came up trumps.’ Dougie could not help a hint of pride in his voice.

  ‘Great stuff.’

  ‘Yep. Must say I won’t be sorry to miss your winter.’

  ‘Sun, sea and sand instead I guess.’

  ‘Too right. And the other S.’

  ‘When are you leaving?’

  ‘ASAP. Don’t have to work out my notice here. Don’s okayed it.’

  ‘Keep in touch eh.’

  ‘No worries. You’ll have to come over some time.’

  ‘Sure thing.’

  ‘Us fellas gotta stick together.’

  ‘No problem.’

  ‘Not the same with chicks.’

  ‘Too true.’ Richard took a large swig of beer.

  ‘Talking of which, how’s Trish?’

  Doug’s question brought Richard’s mood to the boil.

  ‘Just tell me what’s a guy supposed to do?’

  Richard poked a finger
erratically and repeatedly into Doug’s chest.

  ‘I mean, I remember to buy her a bottle of bloody perfume and I suggest a cosy dinner for two and she says I’m taking her for granted …. or words to that effect.’

  ‘No way. That sucks.’

  By now they had both had more beer than was commensurate with a reasoned conversation.

  ‘I told you. She’s a difficult one. Why’d you pick a babe like her?’

  Richard shrugged, defeated by the alcohol from making a coherent reply.

  ‘What you gonna do?’

  ‘Dunno.’

  ‘Well, the way I see it,’ Doug spoke slowly but it did nothing to disguise the slurred words, ‘you can either stay or leave.’

  ‘Good point, Dougie, good point.’

  Somewhere in the recesses of his brain Richard was aware of the imbecility of the exchange. It did not improve over the next hour as more pints followed. At last they conceded and stood up to leave. It was at this point that Richard definitely regretted his decision to spend the evening with Doug. He felt very ill. Why hadn’t he stayed on the bed and just kept himself company with the TV? Doug’s face had a green tinge, which did not bode well.

  ‘Aw, mate, feel lousy,’ he said, clutching his stomach and promptly vomiting its contents onto the floor.

  ‘Christ, Dougie.’

  ‘Sorry, mate.’ Doug sat down sheepishly. ‘Need to get home.’

  ‘You’re not kidding. I’ll call a cab,’ said Richard, trying to ignore the feelings in his own stomach.

  ‘Not from here you don’t.’ A burly barman had appeared and was non-too pleased. ‘You’re a disgrace, both of you. Get out of my pub right now.’

 

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