by Bridy McAvoy
“Simon, I am sorry but our legal guys have been over the source material for this article and assure me it’s genuine.”
“If you would excuse me, Bruce.” Andrew intervened and started reading from the pad in front of him. “So you admit to The Gazette having possession of a Lenovo Z50 laptop, previously part of the estate of Mister Frank Bryant, now deceased, who is also named in this article?”
“Well, yes, I am.”
“Are you aware that this asset was named by Frank Bryant to be inherited by Missus Samantha Hart, and that it disappeared from the house on the day of the will reading?”
“No, I…”
“Are you aware that your admission of its being available to The Gazette places The Gazette, or a member of its staff, in breach of a felony rap?”
“Well, I didn’t…”
Andrew was inexorable. “I must inform you that bailiffs, accompanied by sheriffs, are in the process of executing a civil search warrant for said laptop at both the offices of The Gazette and at the home of Malcolm Jamison, the reporter who broke the story.”
“But…”
“Are you also aware that his wife’s maiden name was Sarah Bryant, the daughter of the aforementioned Frank Bryant?”
“Well, now you mention it, yes, I was…”
“Are you also aware that in the presence of the attorney reading the will, that said Sarah displayed profound anger at the fact that her brothers inherited most of her father’s estate, leaving her only the sum of about ten thousand dollars and her mother’s jewelry, and that her brothers are prepared to swear additional statements to this effect.”
Mark had fallen silent.
“Are you also aware that Samantha Hart, before meeting her husband, had previously been going out with Malcolm Jamison, but being an upstanding young woman, was not prepared to two-time him, her own words? As a result she dumped him in order to go out with Simon, who she later married?
“Did you know that at Samantha’s wedding to Simon, Frank Bryant stood in for her deceased parents to give her away, and that Sarah caused a scene in front of fifty guests over his involvement, and swore to get even with Samantha as soon as she could? One of her brothers escorted her home from the reception to prevent the police being called to a disturbance?
“Finally, are you aware that Frank Bryant kept the old library records on the manual cardex system until he retired, alongside the computer system because he hated the machines? We can obtain sworn statements to that effect from a number of library volunteers—Samantha, Samantha’s predecessor, and the members of the library board? We strongly believe the memoirs that are purportedly on that laptop are nothing more than fabrications designed to achieve a very twisted revenge.”
Andrew fell silent, and everyone stayed quiet.
Bruce finally broke the silence. “Mark, are you still there?”
“Yes, sorry, I’m just evaluating my position. Can you give me two minutes?”
“Of course.”
“I’ll put you on hold. I’ll be as quick as I can be.”
The other end fell silent. I opened my mouth to speak but Andrew put his finger to his lips, and quickly turned a page on his pad, writing in large letters.
He could be recording us at that end!
Both Bruce and I nodded, and Andrew gestured toward the coffee urn on a side-table. We all grabbed a cup and returned to our seats.
Mark was rather more than two minutes, but his whole tone had changed when he returned. “Bruce?”
“Yes, we’re here, Mark.”
“Let me bring you up to date.”
“Okay.”
“First, let me assure you the story has been pulled. The Gazette will not be running with that story on Friday.”
“Good, thank you.”
“Secondly, I have to admit that your bailiffs discovered the afore-mentioned laptop in The Gazette offices and, under the terms of the warrant, the sheriffs have arrested Malcolm Jamison for theft. His wife is being searched for as an accomplice at this moment—she wasn’t home when they tried to execute the warrant.”
One of Andrew’s junior staff slipped in the door and handed him a note and left again. Andrew looked at the note, passed it to Bruce who passed it to me. It was a message from the bailiffs confirming Mark’s words.
“Thirdly, let me offer you, Simon, my profoundest apologies for this. It should not have happened, and the story will be spiked and never show its head.”
“Thank you, Mark.” I spoke for the first time.
“I have also ordered a bunch of flowers for your wife. They should be delivered within the next hour, as just the first step in our apology.”
“Again, on her behalf, thank you.” I smiled in utter relief. It looked like we’d won.
“Now, can I take it that your threat to withdraw your advertising has been withdrawn?”
Bruce took over again. “Yes, you may, although—”
“Let me guess, you’d like a preferential rate for the next year…”
“I was thinking of two…”
“Don’t push it, but we’ll see what we can do. At least that will compensate you for your costs incurred today.”
“I was going to suggest Andrew billed you…”
“No, I don’t think so, that’s going too far.”
Bruce chuckled. “Can’t blame me for trying.”
“Of course not. Simon, Bruce—for that matter, Andrew—can I invite you up to my club on Saturday for lunch and a round of golf?”
Andrew demurred and Bruce spoke for me. “I’d love to accept on my own behalf, but Andrew already has plans, and if Simon has any sense he’s going to be taking his wife away for a short vacation.”
“Of course, Simon, another time.”
“Thank you.”
“I should let you know that we will of course be firing Malcolm Jamison with great prejudice.”
Before Bruce or Andrew could speak I took control of the conversation again.
“Actually, Mark, I’d take it as a personal favor if you didn’t.”
“Oh…” He was surprised. “…Isn’t that a little magnanimous of you?”
“Not really, more self-preservation. Until we have a gagging order fully in place on the story and have confirmed they don’t have copies of the files, and we’ve completed our forensic analysis of the laptop to establish the files had been tampered with, I’d rather you kept him where you can keep an eye on him. If he’s working for you, the story won’t get anywhere else. As I’m sure you’ll be aware, this has been a very upsetting time for my wife right now and I’d rather not have to go through it again.”
“I can see that. Let me know when you’re finished with it, and I’ll personally come down there and fire his ass.”
“Will do.”
“Thank you, and goodbye then. Bruce, I’ll see you Saturday. Simon, we’ll speak in a couple of weeks.”
The line went dead and we all broke into big grins. That had gone even better than expected. Andrew shook hands all round and then left the two of us alone.
Bruce slowly shook his head. “Well, I’ve had some strange days in this job, but that’s about the strangest.”
“Well, as you can imagine, it’s been a pretty strange, and rough, twenty-four hours for me too.”
He nodded. “I had a chat with the CEO about the situation this morning. Don’t worry, no details, but he’s in agreement with me. We need you firing on all cylinders, so as of now, you are on leave. I don’t expect to see you till the Monday after next. Go home, pack a bag, grab that little lady of yours, give her a hug and whisk her off somewhere for a week. If I drive past your house tonight and see the lights on I’ll burst in and wreck the joint. Am I clear?”
“Yes, boss.”
“Scoot. You need to motor to get home before that florist gets turned away because Samantha won’t answer the door and won’t answer the phone.”
“Bruce?”
“What?”
“Thanks.”
“Por nada. You had them all taped up. You fed us the ammunition. Andrew and I just pushed the buttons.”
Chapter Eight – The Condo
I beat the florist to the house by about a minute. Samantha saw me pull up in the drive and opened the door. The florist pulled up at the end of the drive before I reached the door. She looked worried for a second and was going to close the door until I held up my hand, smiled and nodded to let her know it was okay.
“Missus Hart?”
“Yes.”
“This is from The Gazette, apparently with sincerest apologies. I had to write the card myself, he was in such a hurry. Insisted I delivered it before four.”
“From The Gazette?”
I could see Sammie was going to question the guy, so I took the huge bouquet from him and thanked him, slipped him a ten spot for his trouble and carried them into the house. Sammie closed the door behind me, her face a mask of puzzlement.
“What is going on?”
I shrugged and smiled, and she almost melted as I spoke to her, unable to hide my own grin.
“The Gazette has spiked the story, and Malcolm has even been arrested for theft.”
“Theft?”
“I’ll explain it later, but Sarah and Malcolm stole the laptop Frank left to you and tried to use the contents as the basis for his story. Since I could prove the laptop belonged to you, and could provide witness statements to the scenes Sarah caused at our wedding and at the will reading, together with Malcolm not liking being dumped by you for me, the story disintegrated.”
“But…”
“Shortly, a computer forensic team is going to go over that laptop and prove that the files were faked by Sarah.”
“But they weren’t.”
“They might have been. By the time our team have finished with them, they will have been. The clincher, of course, is that The Gazette is owned by Midstate, and Bruce rang the CEO there and pulled all our advertising with them. That’s about a third of a mill in revenue at risk. You think they’d throw that away for one lousy librarian?”
“I’ll give you lousy, but surely that’s unconstitutional.”
“No, it’s business, that’s all. Malcolm and his boss forgot where I worked, and their head office just buried the story under a ton of red tape and legalese. By the time they get that all cleared away, we’ll have the laptop so thoroughly compromised as a source the story will cease to exist—we’d make a fortune in libel damages.”
“You did all that for me? After what I told you?”
“Of course. You’re my wife, remember?”
She threw herself at me, her arms around my neck, hugging me till I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t however hug her back, nor allow her lips to reach mine.
“Si?”
I shook my head and she disengaged herself. “I’m still not sure how I feel about all this, and I know you have to tell me a lot more. When you have, I’ll be able to judge how I feel.”
“You mean—?”
“You’re still my wife and I will protect you, and your reputation, because that affects mine. Whether or not we remain married into the future… I’ll be honest, I don’t know.”
“Ah.” She went from a hundred-watt smile to a trembling lip in seconds, but I couldn’t prevent that.
“Just remember, I haven’t walked away yet.”
“Just remember I love you, Simon, more than anything.”
“Now that’s protected one of your three, we’ll work on the marriage one, but we need to protect the third one.”
“The third one?”
“This house.”
“Huh?”
“Bruce has insisted I take a few days off, and he’ll drive past here tonight. If, and I quote, you and the little lady haven’t debunked for a break, and I see a light on, I’ll trash the place. So, rather than let him do that, I suggest we pack a bag and depart till the middle of next week.”
“But what about your work?”
“Delegated.”
“And the library?”
“You weren’t planning to go back there if the story broke. Take medical leave, go back a week on Monday.”
“Where will we go?”
I allowed myself another smile. “I hear a certain wife I know has a little condo down by the lake that her husband has never seen…”
She smiled back, then got serious again and shook her head.
“Why not?”
“Honey, I’d love to take you there, right now. To stay there for a week with you would be heaven, but there’s a problem.”
“What?”
“It is small.”
“And?”
“It only has one bedroom, with one bed and no spare room.”
“Ah… Not a problem.”
Her smile lit up her face again, then slid away. “You mean there’s always the couch?”
“Exactly.”
“No.”
“I hardly think you’re in a position to argue.”
She shook her head again. “As long as you promise not to walk out, and not to sleep on the couch.”
I paused for a minute. I hadn’t exactly enjoyed sleeping in the spare room anyway. “As long as I get to hear the rest of the story.”
“Deal.”
“Deal.”
* * * *
It took us an hour to pack, and then on the way we had to stop for groceries. Nobody had stayed at the condo for several years, so the fridge, freezer and larder were empty. Sammie wanted to bring the flowers from The Gazette, but I insisted she put them in water in a vase in the front window. In the end it took four vases, the bouquet was that big!
As a result it was nearly seven when we arrived. As I stepped from the car, one look told me why Sammie hadn’t been able to part with it. Her father had bought the end condo of the row, on the ground floor, and right on the water’s edge. A small terrace ran down from the patio doors to the living area, straight to a dock.
“Boat?”
“Yes, honey. But it’s in storage at a yard down the lake.”
“You’ve got a fucking boat? And you never fucking told me?”
“The speedster isn’t very big, but they keep it maintained in good order and ready to go. I’ll ring them to deliver it back tomorrow.”
I rounded on my wife. “You didn’t tell me about this? You deserve a thorough spanking for that transgression.”
She had her arms full of bags of shopping so couldn’t have defended herself without dropping the milk, eggs and bread. She shivered and I saw her eyes sparkle. We had, very occasionally, played the spanking game, but not hard, and never beyond a few swats. The way she shuddered, the look in her eyes, told me she’d enjoy it if I took it further. It would be sexual interaction between us, and I guess she’d take about anything I offered in that department.
“Never mind, I guess there’s a lot for you to tell me yet. Let’s get unloaded and inside.”
After that first trip, I unloaded the car and ferried the bags in while she started putting things away. Once everything was squared away and we’d put some beer to chill, I started to explore. She’d said it was small, and she was right. Four people would have made the living area look crowded. It was quite full with just the two of us, and only the one couch and a single chair. I eyed the chair dubiously—she’d made me promise I wouldn’t sleep on the couch. She’d neglected to consider the chair. I’d slept on worse at college—but not by much from a comfort point of view anyway. Everything was pristine and looked hardly used.
The kitchenette was tiny—not big enough for two people to work together, and the bathroom was even tinier. Definitely not a two-person shower, and no bath. The bedroom, though, was the largest room, and it was dominated by a king-sized bed and a very large flat-screen TV. I cocked an eyebrow at Samantha. That kind of TV wasn’t around when her father died.
“I upgraded it a couple of years ago. The old TV was bulky and took up too much room. At the time I was trying to work out how to te
ll you about this place. I was looking forward to lying in that bed watching a movie with you.”
“Ah, I see.” Although we used a joint account, we both kept some money to ourselves. I’d never pried, and she’d never asked for more for anything, so keeping such a purchase from me wouldn’t have been hard. Still, I wasn’t sure I believed her. I forced myself not to let the natural suspicion cloud my thinking.
She grabbed my hand and, tugging me toward the ranch doors that led out onto the terrace above the dock, she dragged me outside. “This is my favorite time of day here, watching the sun set. Want a beer?”
“Sure, but they won’t be cold yet.”
She chuckled. “Old boater’s trick, tie string around them and dangle them in the water for five minutes. Presto—cold beer.”
“Go ahead, Miss Practical.”
Sammie dashed inside and came out with a ball of twine and four bottles of beer. She deftly tied them together and, walking onto the dock, crouched down, dropped them in and secured the other end of the twine. Without a word she walked past me back into the bedroom and started rooting in her bag. I turned and looked at the setting sun for a minute then turned round to see where Samantha had disappeared to.
I suspect she was waiting for me to look, because she was standing, in profile, at the foot of the bed, right in front of the ranch doors. As I watched her hands grasped the bottom of her T-shirt and she pulled it up and off over her head. Her strapless bra came open in seconds and she turned to face me, making sure I could see everything. Her wrap-over skirt dropped away under the impetus of her busy fingers and, after shimmying out of her panties, she was standing in front of me naked. For a moment I thought she was going to walk out to me in that state, but her reminder of what I might be giving up was more subtle. She pulled on a thinner T-shirt, and slid a pair of tight cotton striped shorts up her legs. Once everything had been adjusted, she walked back out to me and, leaning up, planted a soft kiss on my cheek. I could see she was flushed from the deliberate exhibition.
“Enjoy the show, lover?”