‘Yeah lady, what can I do for you,’ he wheezed.
‘G’day luv.’ Andrea rolled the gum from one side of her mouth to the other. ‘Can you blow me up some photos, about 12 by 10?’ She handed him the photos of her and Hasslinger.
He looked at them for a moment then picked them up avidly. ‘Jesus Christ, lady, where’d you get these?’
‘I’m out here from Australia doin’ a blue movie luv. I got these on the set and I want to send some copies to my boyfriend back in Australia.’ She blew a bubble with the gum and popped it.
‘Christ. They sure are hot sex scenes, ain’t they? What’s the name of the movie?’
Andrea looked at him blankly for a second or two. ‘Blue Hawaii luv,’ she finally said. ‘What else? Can you do me four of each by this afternoon.’
‘Sure. Gonna cost you 160 bucks.’
Andrea’s knees buckled slightly. ‘Yeah, righto luv. 3.30 be all right?’
‘Yeah, that’ll be fine lady. See you then.’
‘Ta luv.’ She gave her bum a little wiggle as she flounced out of the shop.
Outside she spat the wad of bubblegum into the gutter and caught a bus back to the hotel going straight up to her room. She scraped all the make-up off, got changed and, while she was having a cup of coffee, looked up a couple of phone numbers; she jotted them down then caught the lift to the foyer.
The girl on the switchboard wasn’t very busy when Andrea approached her. ‘Hello,’ she said pleasantly. ‘I’m Miss Hayden in room 662. Could you do something for me?’
‘Certainly ma’am. What is it?’
‘Could you ring the First Hawaiian Bank in Waikiki and ask for the accounts manager and say it’s Sydney, Australia calling. I just want to play a trick on a friend of mine who works there. Is that all right?’
‘Sure ma’am. No problem. You can take it in that empty booth over there. Number 3.’
‘Thank you.’
With Hasslinger’s credit card and a pen and paper in front of her Andrea picked up the receiver in the empty booth almost as her call went through.
‘Hello. First Hawaiian Bank, Waikiki.’
‘I have a call here from Sydney, Australia. Could I have the accounts department please.’
‘Certainly. I’m putting you through now.’
‘Hello. Cheryl-Anne McCambridge, accounts manager.’
‘I have an overseas call here from Sydney, Australia. Could you take it please?’
‘Yes certainly.’
Andrea smiled back when she saw the switchboard operator wink and give her the nod. ‘Go ahead Sydney, Australia. I’m putting you through now.’
‘Hello is that the accounts manager, First Hawaiian Bank, Waikiki, Honolulu?’
‘Yes it is.’
‘This is the First Reserve Bank, Sydney, Australia here. We’re doing a transaction with one of your customers — a Mr Charles Hasslinger of Hasslinger Marine Engineering Ala-Wai Boulevard. Private address Poipu-Kai Drive Makaha. Could you please tell us how much is in Mr Hasslinger’s account: number 841-63-63051.
‘Just hold on a minute please Australia. I have to check with the computer.’
‘Thank you.’ After eight years of working in a bank Andrea knew how bank staff and computers worked and was certain Hasslinger’s credit card would be linked to his bank account.
‘Hello, are you there Sydney?’
‘Yes.’
‘Mr Hasslinger has $2,371,462 dollars and 45 cents in that account.’
‘Thank you Hawaii. That’s all we need to know.’
‘You’re welcome.’
So, thought Andrea as she hung up, your bank account’s quite healthy Mr Charles Hasslinger. She thanked the girl on the hotel switch, tipped her two dollars and went back to her room. From there she decided it was time to make another two phone calls; she picked up the phone and got connected on the first one.
‘Hello,’ came a woman’s voice.
‘Yes, is Mr Hasslinger there please?’
‘No. This is Mrs Hasslinger speaking. . . Who’s this?’
‘Oh, my name’s Hayden. Andrea Hayden. I was supposed to contact Mr Hasslinger about some temporary office work. I must have got the numbers mixed up. I should have rung him at the office. I’m sorry.’
‘That’s. . . quite all right,’ replied the woman’s voice a little suspiciously. ‘Mr Hasslinger should be in his office now, if you’d care to ring there. . . Miss Hayden, is it?’
‘I’ll ring him there. I’m sorry to disturb you Mrs Hasslinger.’
‘That’s all right Miss Hayden. . . Goodbye.’
‘Goodbye.’ Andrea could feel the icicles dripping off the line. She knew Hasslinger would be in his office but she just wanted to put a little cat in among Hasslinger’s pigeons before she made the next and most important call.
‘Hello, Hasslinger Marine Engineering.’
‘Yes. Is Mr Charles Hasslinger there please?’
‘Just one moment. Whom shall I say is calling.’
‘Miss Hayden. From the Hilton Hotel.’ There was a pause for almost half a minute then a man’s voice sounding slightly edgey came on the phone.
‘Hello. Who’s this?’
Andrea recognised Hasslinger’s voice immediately and her skin crawled, but she gritted her teeth and was able to control herself. ‘Hello Charles,’ she said, her voice dripping venom. ‘Remember me from Saturday night?’
‘I. . . think you must have the wrong number, miss,’ was Hasslinger’s cautious but stoney reply.
‘No, I’ve got the right number all right, Mr Charles Hasslinger, alias Malcolm Andrews, alias the rotten, gutless bastard that raped me in my hotel room on Saturday night.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘No? Well I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll drop a little present round to your office tomorrow morning and we’ll see if that doesn’t jog your memory a bit. I might even drop a couple off to Carmel as well. See how she likes them. I’ll ring you back at 10.30 tomorrow morning, you can tell me what you think. See you later. . . Charles.’
Andrea’s hands were shaking slightly as she put down the phone but a devilish smile flickered round her eyes. Through her body surged a steely determination to get her revenge on Hasslinger. She changed into her bikini and sat by the hotel pool till 3, then left to pick up the photos; she didn’t bother to tart herself up this time.
The buzzer sounded as she entered the grotty camera shop and ‘Sweatface’ appeared from behind the floral curtain. When he saw who it was he went back inside and reappeared with the photos in a large manilla envelope. ‘There you go lady,’ he grinned placing them on the counter. ‘Whad’ya say. Pretty damn good huh?’
Andrea’s stomach turned when she saw them and she almost had to look away. They looked even more revolting in 12 by 10.
‘Yeah, they’re just great luv. What do I owe you?’
‘160 bucks’
‘You sure know how to charge, don’t you luv?’ said Andrea, dropping the money on the grimy glass counter.
Sweatface looked at the money then grinned lecherously at Andrea. ‘Well honey,’ he said, ‘if you want to work out a little discount, that’s fine by me.’
Andrea picked up the envelope full of photos and tucked them under her arm. ‘Sex is like fishin’ to me luv,’ she said. ‘I throw the little ones back. See ya sunshine.’
She caught the bus back to the hotel stopping once to buy four large manilla envelopes. Back in her room she separated the photos putting four of each in each envelope. Looking at them was still extremely distasteful but where it would have shocked and upset her before, now it was just an unpleasant but bareable task, like gutting and cleaning a fish.
She wrote two detailed letters explaining everything about Saturday night, including Hasslinger’s name and business address, put them in two of the envelopes and sealed them. She wrote Hasslinger’s name on another and sealed that also — the other she left as it was and put it in th
e drawer.
It was dark and she was quite tired when she’d finished, so she went down to the foyer, had a light meal, bought a six-pack of beer and spent the rest of the night watching TV. Tomorrow promised to be a busy but interesting day.
Tuesday dawned warm and clear and the hordes of surfers and sunbathers were already crowding the golden beaches when Andrea rose about 8 a.m. Unfortunately she didn’t have time to enjoy it with them. After a quick breakfast in her room she put three of the envelopes in her bag and headed for Australia House in Kalakau Avenue. She asked for the officer in charge — a Mr Bevvan Mair — and left two envelopes with him. She left instructions that if she wasn’t there to pick them up by Thursday lunchtime, he was to open one and forward the other to the editor of the Honolulu Daily Star. Mr Mair was a bit suspicious at first but she assured him it was all right and she’d more than likely be there by Wednesday to pick them up anyway. Next stop was Hasslinger’s office on Ala-Wai Boulevard.
Hasslinger Marine Engineering was a modern, palm-fringed, wide-fronted, three storey building which backed on to an extensive marina full of huge power boats and yachts; some intact, others under various stages of repair and construction. A directory in the foyer told her that Mr Charles Hasslinger, Managing Director was on the second floor. She caught a small lift and stepped out into a large office full of potted palms and Hawaiian motifs on the walls. A comfortable-looking Ottoman lounge and a shiny glass coffee table covered in yachting magazines faced a receptionist’s desk behind which Andrea could see a door with Hasslinger’s name on it in bronze lettering. An attractive, but snooty-looking blonde wearing glasses sat tapping at a typewriter.
‘Yes ma’am,’ she said without interest, as Andrea approached her.
‘I have some photos here for Mr Hasslinger. They’re quite confidential, a new boat design. Could you see that he gets them personally?’
‘Yes ma’am. Mr Hasslinger’s on the phone right now but I’ll see that he gets them straight away. All right?’
‘Thank you.’ And up yours and your bosses, too, thought Andrea as she stepped back into the lift. She glared at Hasslinger’s door picturing the creep sitting there behind his desk. The doors hissed shut and she was whisked back down to the ground floor.
It was just before 10 when she got back to the hotel so she sat in the bar for an hour over a couple of brandies to steady her nerves. She went to her room to ring Hasslinger.
‘Hello. Hasslinger Marine Engineering.’
‘Yes, is Mr Charles Hasslinger there please? It’s Miss Andrea Hayden.’
‘Just one moment.’ There was a click and a buzz and she heard Hasslinger’s voice: ‘See that I’m not disturbed Miss Hilderbrand.’
‘Yes sir.’
‘Hello. Charles Hasslinger here.’
‘Hello Charlie,’ said Andrea sweetly. ‘Did you get my little present?’
There was a pause for a moment. ‘Where did you get those damn photos?’
‘Where did I get those photos? Out of a bloody camera, where do you think, you Dubbo. Jesus, Charlie are all Yanks as dumb as you?’
‘You know what I mean.’
‘Look Charlie, it doesn’t matter where I got them. The thing is I’ve got them and I’ve got another twelve just as good as those all in stamped envelopes and all ready to be mailed out.’
‘So what do you intend to do?’
‘Well, I don’t know Charlie. But if I don’t get my developing costs back I reckon I’ll send one set to Carmel, that’s your bitch of a wife. She’d just love to know what you were up to while she was in L.A.’
‘Yes. I believe you rang her yesterday.’
‘Then I might send a set to your friend Robert Jerome. I’m sure all the people in his private hospital on Diamond Head would get a big kick out of them. And I might send a set to Marty Eisenberg the travel agent. He could take them out and show all the boys at Kaealana Golf Club. They’d be rapt in them. Especially the one of you belting me in the head.’ Andrea could hear Hasslinger’s laboured breathing over the line, and she was almost sure she could hear the sweat trickling down his face.
‘You. . . seem to know a great deal about me, Andrea.’
‘Forget the Andrea, arsehole. It’s Miss Hayden to you. And if you’ve got any funny ideas, there’s two sets at the Australian High Commissioner’s office. If anything happens to me, he gets one and the Honolulu Star gets another. With a letter explaining everything. . . But Charlie, I think I’d just like to send a set to little wifey Carmel. I hear she’s just dying to get a divorce and I think she’d appreciate them more than anyone else. Unless of course you want to reimburse my developing costs.’
‘And just, how much are these. . . developing costs.’
‘To you Charlie, a measly 350,000 dollars.’
‘WHAT?’ Hasslinger sounded like he’d just had a stroke. ‘That’s preposterous. I haven’t got that sort of money.’
‘Charlie, don’t give me the tom-tits. You’ve got exactly 2,371,462 dollars and 45 cents in account, number: 841-63-63051 at the First Hawaiian Bank in Waikiki. If you don’t believe me, ring up Cheryl-Anne McCambridge; she’s the accounts manager there. She’ll tell you. Like you said Charlie, I do know a lot about you, don’t I?’ That was Andrea’s trump card. She awaited Hasslinger’s reply. ‘Well come on Charlie, what do you want to do? You’d better hurry or the price’ll go up.’
‘I. . . I’m going to have to think about it.’
‘Think all you like Charlie. Think till you go blue in the bloody face. Right up until two this afternoon, then I’ll ring you back. But don’t forget, I’m all mailed up and ready to go. See you at two.’
Andrea replaced the receiver then took a deep breath and let it out as she flopped back on the bed and realisation of what she’d just said and the way she’d said it dawned on her. My God, what have I just done? she thought. But despite the trembling in her hands and the butterflies flapping around in her stomach, she noticed there was quite a grin on her face as she checked herself out in the bathroom mirror.
She went through her traveller’s cheques and counted what was left of her money. All the running around and the expenses of the last few days had eaten right into her meagre funds. If Hasslinger reneagued or baulked, the next few days in Hawaii were going to be very skinny. She didn’t expect Hasslinger to come up with the exorbitant sum she’d asked but she was certain he’d come up with something — she hoped. She tidied her hair, changed into some fresh clothes and picked up her handbag; there was one more trip to make.
The First Hawaiian Bank of Waikiki is only a few streets from the Hawaiian Village and Andrea walked there in less than ten minutes.
‘You wish to open a new account ma’am, is that right?’ said the bank teller, wearing what appeared to Andrea by now to be a compulsory floral shirt.
‘Yes please.’
‘I see you have plenty of I.D. but your visa is only for another six days. Is it necessary?’
‘Yes. I’m getting an extension tomorrow. I’m — ah, getting married here and I’m having some more money sent over from Australia.’
‘Mm. All right then Miss Hayden. How much did you wish to open with?’
‘One hundred dollars. Is that all right?’
‘That’ll be fine.’
With her new bank book with the brown and yellow Hawaiian design on the cover Andrea strolled back to the hotel and waited patiently in her room for two o’clock to come round. She crossed her fingers and rang Hasslinger. The girl on his switch put her straight through.
‘Hello Charles,’ she said, ‘have you considered my offer? I hope so for your sake because I’m ringing from just outside the Inter-Island Courier Service, ready to have a parcel hand-delivered to the lovely Carmel.’
‘There’s no need,’ was Hasslinger’s reply. ‘I’ll. . . pay you. 350,000 dollars. Is that what you goddamn-well want?’
‘Right on Charlie. Pussy sure can be expensive in The Islands, can’t it?’
�
��Do you want cash?’
‘No. You can meet me outside the First Hawaiian Bank of Waikiki at three o’clock. If you’re not there by ten seconds past, these go straight in the mail. You got that?’
‘I’ll be there.’ Andrea heard Hasslinger’s sigh as she hung up.
Andrea stared at the phone in wise-eyed disbelief slowly shaking her head from side to side. ‘Well I’ll be buggered,’ she said out aloud — then, unable to control herself, she let out a squeal of excitement. She looked at her watch; one quick trip to make before she met Hasslinger at the bank.
‘You’re a day early Miss Hayden,’ said Mr Bevvan Mair as he handed her the two envelopes. ‘I must confess you had me quite concerned as to the contents of these two envelopes, too. All very mysterious I must say.’
‘Yes, I’m sorry if I caused you any trouble Mr Mair. Actually they’re just film scripts. I was worried someone would steal them from the hotel. They’re quite irreplaceable.’
‘Oh. I see. Still, you’re a different girl from the one that came in here yesterday.’
‘You can say that again Mr Mair. Goodbye, and thank you.’
‘No trouble Miss Hayden. Goodbye.’
Charles Hasslinger was five minutes early. Even in his conservative, grey business suit and sunglasses Andrea recognised him instantly as he walked towards her. Although she was feeling quite elated at getting all that money out of him, the memory of Saturday night came rushing back and a great sense of contempt and revulsion swept through her as he drew near. His face was a grim, unsmiling mask and there was hatred in his eyes but it was equally matched by the hostility blazing in Andrea’s.
‘Well: did you bring those photos?’ he asked inimically.
Andrea patted her handbag. ‘Did you bring your bank book?’ Hasslinger nodded his head curtly. ‘Right,’ said Andrea. ‘Come inside and I’ll tell you exactly what to do.’
‘So,’ said Mr Chun the bank manager. ‘Miss Hayden is going to represent your yachting interests on The Islands is she Charles? And not a bad idea either if I may say so.’ He smiled warmly at Andrea. ‘There’s no doubt you Australians know your yachts now. You’ve certainly got our America’s Cup, winged keels and all that. Heh, heh. Anyway Miss Hayden, if you’d just like to sign this final document that should finalise the transaction.’
The Real Thing Page 31