True, he might try to get rid of Cormac more quickly, but on the other hand, he might just get careless, thinking he had won it all. It certainly might prevent him from running away until they had enough evidence to put him behind bars.
Zaira worked on her latest novel, the story of her and Brad, thinly veiled as fiction. She typed steadily, but always at the back of her mind was the knowledge that the happily-ever after ending would not be the one for her. As soon as Cormac and Brad found out who she was, it would be over between them. Jonathan had won that battle, at least, but Zaira would make sure he didn’t win the war.
A tap at the door signalled Cormac’s arrival. Zaira hastily pulled him into the room before anyone could see her. She hoped Jonathan hadn’t decided to come along for the ride.
Cormac stood gazing at her, puzzlement written in his eyes. Zaira took a step back. He was so like Brad in many ways, it was painful to see him.
“I was told to meet Zoe Dominick here, but you’re the girl I met in the apartment. Auburn hair, grey eyes. Where is Miss Dominick?”
“Please, Mr. Clarke, won’t you have a seat. I’m afraid there are a few disturbing revelations I'm going to have to make today, and that will be the least of them.”
She briefly explained about her deception concerning her identity to Brad, and the reasons for it.
Cormac looked her up and down speculatively for a few moments, and then remarked caustically, “Well, I can certainly see why my son decided to cast you as the Dark Lady. You're a consummate actress, I’ll give you that.”
“I’ve had a good teacher, my husband, as a matter of fact. Hopefully soon to be ex-husband. I was planning to divorce him on the grounds of desertion, and that was the price for my silence about his whereabouts. But I can’t keep silent any more. Not when I'm certain that he's doing a great deal of harm to you and Brad.”
“Your husband? I don’t know anyone called Dominick, or Darcy for that matter, Miss, er-”
“Let’s make things simple, shall we? My name is Zaira. Mr. Clarke, Cormac, you know all these accusations against your son—”
“If you are going to plead on his behalf, you’re wasting your time,” Cormac said, shaking his head. He started to rise from the chair, stiff with anger.
“No, please, hear me out. I love Brad, but a lot of this is my fault. You must give me the chance to tell the truth, even if it means I’ll never see him again.”
“Your fault?” he exclaimed. “How could it be, unless you’ve led him into this seamy life. I hardly think that’s likely. You’ve only known each other a few weeks. So if he says he's innocent, don’t believe him. He's tricked you. Tricked us all.”
“No, he hasn’t,” Zaira denied stoutly, but softened her tone rather than risk angering Cormac even further. “Please, look at these photos, tickets, evidence, and then tell me who's being fooled.”
She spread her evidence out on the table for him piece by piece, explaining each item and its significance as she went along.
Cormac looked completely skeptical at first, as she showed him the photos of Mike the model, and the transcripts of a couple of odd telephone calls they had recorded from the Studio office.
But finally some photos Kelly had taken the night before at the Studio, for one of their porn sessions, with Jonathan right there looking on, were enough to convince Cormac that every word she had told him was true.
He sat silently with his head in his hands for a few minutes.
Zaira was bold enough to go over to him and touch his shoulder.
Cormac looked up at her and smiled thinly. “My God, and all this time, Jonathan has been convincing me that Brad was skimming money off the top, doing drugs, and now this smear campaign, with pornography. But why? Why is he doing all this?”
“For the same reason my husband stole every penny from our advertising agency and ran, leaving me destitute, alone, facing criminal charges. Because he's utterly ruthless. He doesn’t care who he hurts, what he destroys. He found a cozy niche for himself at Clarke Studios, and he aims to make the most of it.
"I'm sure at first it started out with him just lining his own pockets. But Brad is your only son and heir, after the car accident that killed your poor wife and daughter. He saw an opportunity to hit it big.
“But when Jonathan came to New York with you and saw that by some quirk of fate, Brad and I had got to know one another, and I could blow the whistle on him at any moment, he knew he had to move fast. I could have spoiled everything for him simply by revealing his true identity.
"I know now that I should have told the truth, and spared us all this. I admit I made a bad bargain with him, and for that I'm truly sorry. My only excuse is I loved Brad and didn't want to lose him. Not so soon after finding him, when I'd been looking for a wonderful man like him my whole life. It was selfish, I know, but I really didn't see the harm in snatching a few days of bliss til the play was over and I could think straight, and decide what to do for the best for all of us."
Cormac's brows knit, but he waited for her to continue.
She rubbed the back of her neck for a moment, then raised her eyes to meet his hard emerald gaze without flinching. "Please, you have to know that I never would have kept silent if I had ever thought there was any irreversible danger to your family. I had no idea my ex would ever stoop to ruining Brad completely, let alone outright murder. I thought that at worst, Jonathan would have been stealing, but that once I was safely divorced, I would have dropped a few anonymous tips for you to follow his paper trail.
"But Jonathan knew I would never keep this true identity to myself if I sensed any danger to Brad. He could ensure my silence until the divorce, but after that I could have told everyone he was a criminal.
"But if he were the head of Clarke Studios, he would have status, power, money. Even if I did turn him in, who would care? I’ve paid back all the clients anyway. He wouldn’t even have got a suspended sentence.”
Cormac nodded, and Zaira continued.
“I think it’s also jealousy as well. I love Brad, but I now know I never loved Jonathan. He used my for my brains, skills, talents, creativity, and when that wasn’t enough, he moved on.
“Cormac, I know how his mind works. I think Jonathan has been setting up this whole scam for some time. But he got scared of me, and moved prematurely against Brad. I think he wants to be your heir, and once you name him, then something will happen to you.”
Cormac’s mouth dropped open.
“Can you think of anything he has done which could lead you to suspect him?”
“That’s just the problem, this all seems so unreal. I can't think of a thing."
"Are you sure?
He shrugged one shoulder. "Well, now that you are telling me all this, the odd thing here and there, but no, not really anything concrete. He's just been dropping hints against Brad, money going missing which he has called to my attention. There's obviously always been bad blood between he and Brad, but Jonathan has always made himself out to be the injured party.”
Cormac stood up to pace about. “But just lately, I had a heart attack scare, which turned out to be nothing, and he suggested then I should make my will, with any contingency plans in case something happened to me, and to Brad.”
Zaira looked at him, appalled at the significance of Cormac’s revelations.
“And who would inherit?” she whispered.
“At the moment, my sister’s family, but I have a feeling, if he's as clever as you say, he could alter the will, get it all. God, we have to stop him!”
“Wait, let’s think this through,” Zaira soothed. “If he knows you suspect him, we could lose any hope we have of catching him redhaanded. No, I think we should give him enough rope to hang himself. Let him think that you are changing the will in his favor. That you never want to see Brad again as long as you live. With any luck he’ll be careless, and then the trap will spring."
Cormac's eyes glinted eagerly.
"But I'm warning you now
, it could be dangerous. Once his name is on the new will, there's nothing to stop him from trying to get rid of you as soon as possible.”
Cormac turned white for a moment, and looked utterly defeated. “And to think I trusted that man, and refused to believe my son when he begged me for help. You’ve actually come out here to try to clear Brad. You’ve given up everything in New York to help him.” He gazed at Zaira with admiration.
She blushed. “I had no choice, Cormac. If I had told you at Tavern on the Green who Jonathan was, maybe none of this would have happened. In any case, there was nothing to give up in New York compared to what I feel for Brad. But I promise, once all of this is over, I’ll be out of his life forever.”
“Don’t be silly. You love each other.”
She shook her head. “How can he forgive me for all this?”
“It isn’t your fault your husband is a vile criminal. You’re helping Brad now. That’s what counts.”
“And you? What will you do?” Zaira asked.
“I’ll get on to a few friends of mine, and get a new butler, who can be used as a body guard. I think the books should be audited as well, but very quietly, discreetly. I shall see my lawyer about the new will, but don’t worry, I shall make a new one immediately after the fake one leaving Jonathan as beneficiary, and everything shall go to Brad,” Cormac reassured her.
Cormac rose to leave, and patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful, and if you speak to Brad, tell him I send all my love, and will speak to him soon. It's too dangerous for me to talk to him now. Jonathan must be absolutely convinced I've disowned Bad. Then maybe he’ll drop his guard.”
“I hope so. The waiting will be the hardest part.”
“I’ll be in touch,” Cormac promised. “And thank you, Zaira, for everything.”
Zaira made him memorize her address and phone number at the Tremaines' and said he should wait a few more days before coming over.
Cormac agreed, and with a last handshake, departed with a purposeful stride.
Once he had gone Zaira slumped in her chair, exhausted. The long days and nights had been taking their toll. Though she felt her interview with Cormac had gone far better than she had dared hope, her battle with Jonathan was still a long way from being over.
Zaira restlessly waited as the days passed. Each day brought a fresh new development, but nothing which would put Brad fully in the clear just yet. Kelly and the Tremaines made a great deal of progress in tracking down the girls they had seen at the Studio, after the tip-off Zaira had gotten when she’d seen Mike and Jonathan together.
They also kept a constant watch on Mike the model, gathering ample evidence of his nefarious activities all over LA, even as Brad was making headlines for himself all over London in his campaign to prove his innocence, that the pictures were all fakes and he was a decent, clean-living man, not a drugged-up monster.
The drugs charge against Jonathan was going to be much harder to prove, since so far they had not seen him dealing with anyone, though his conversations with Mike had about them suggested he was in deep.
Zaira wondered how Cormac’s investigations were proceeding. Late one evening, he finally came to visit.
“I would have been here sooner, only it’s been difficult to get away, and Jonathan of course can’t be come suspicious. I've started up the audit, in the middle of the night when we're reasonably certain he shouldn’t be around. It’s turned up some pretty interesting results.”
"Please sit, and tell me everything. Can I get you a drink?"
He glanced around her small room, and motioned to a chair. "Just that, thanks."
"Please, make yourself at home."
Cormac sat and sighed. “It’s is amazing how wrong you can be about a person. I placed my absolute trust in Jonathan. I would have sworn he was honest. Yet look what he's done to me and my family. And Brad. I've sold my own son short ever since his mother and sister died, and I’ll regret that for the rest of my life.”
She was surprised at the admission, but shook her head. “There’s no point in regretting it. Just do something about it before it's too late. If you love him, tell him, as soon as this is all over. You can still be good friends. You’re both very proud men, but also have the potential for great warmth and generosity,” Zaira said with an encouraging smile.
“And I've been wrong about you too, my dear, I don't mind admitting it. When I saw you at the hotel so many days ago, I never really thought you were completely right. You know the old saying, “There's no smoke without fire.” I really thought Brad had deceived you too, maybe not been guilty of all the things he was accused of, but perhaps some of them. Now I realize you had complete faith in him. You must love him very much.”
She smiled wanly. “I do, but that doesn’t matter now.”
“It does. You love him. At the end of this all, you must be together, however horrible you feel about what's happened to him at the hands of your ex-husband. You aren’t to blame for anything Jonathan ever did. Surely Brad will see you are doing everything to help him now, and that's what counts."
“Let’s just take this one step at a time, shall we?” Zaira said quietly, eager to change the subject.
“No, because it's too important, my dear. It's also the same subject I was talking about, regrets. I lost everything except Brad in that car crash. You know what it’s like to lose money, but what about love? You love Brad. Don’t give up on him, or yourself. You’re young, and have too many years ahead of you to regret ever letting him go, of living without him.”
“I only had him for a short time. I’ll get over it,” Zaira muttered.
“You may, but I won’t, and neither will he. He loves you, my dear. If you go out of his life, the light will go out of it as well.”
Zaira shrugged. “When Brad knows the truth, he’ll forget all about me.”
“I doubt that very much, Zaira," Cormac said in a firm tone, "but we’ll have to wait and see which one of us is right. Now, I’ll see you again as soon as I have any more information.”
She twisted her fingers in her lap and sighed. “This is all taking so long, isn’t it? I’m afraid Brad is going to get restless and want to come home. What should I say?”
“Tell him I’ll be in touch when I think it's safe, when the auditors have enough to convict Jonathan.”
“That won’t help Brad if we can’t prove the drugs and porn charges.”
“I know, but your people the Tremaines are doing a great job. If it’s the best we can do, we’ll have to take it.”
“I don’t think Brad could stand a trial, Cormac,” Zaira sighed. “He's too proud. Plus, the smear campaign has been so extensive, it's bound to go against him. No, we have to catch Jonathan red-handed.”
“All right, we’ll be cautious, but if we get no results soon, I’m phoning Brad and telling him to come home.”
Zaira worried for days about Cormac’s suggestion that Brad come home. On the one hand, the newspapers were now printing his side of the story, and many witnesses had come forward, including Matt and the entire cast of Hamlet.
She herself was conspicuously absent among those witnesses, which seemed odd because she had been his roommate, and would certainly have known his whereabouts in more detail than mere passing acquaintances and students, in order to help establish his alibi and that the pictures were fakes.
Kelly urged her to go to the papers and police with the whole story of what they knew so far and could prove. But Zaira was convinced Jonathan would manage to wriggle out of all he had done with only fraud charges, which would put him in a white-collar prison for a year or two at best.
“Listen, he's going to suspect if you don’t turn up. He'll wonder why you're reluctant to come forward. I'm sure he'll have checked that you aren’t in New York by now. Matt and Raymond Ness are the only two people who can give him any clues. Raymond doesn’t know where you are, so that leaves Matt. He might try to trick Matt. “
“Maybe he thinks I
’m in England with Brad.”
“Maybe, in which case, you can ring the paper, pretend you're there.”
“All right,” Zaira agreed, chewing her bottom lip.
“Look, it can’t make things any worse, can it?”
“No, I suppose not. I just keeping having this niggling fear in the back of my mind that I’m missing something here.”
Kelly frowned. “Like what?”
“I married him. I know a bit about how Jonathan thinks. The porn charges wouldn't necessarily stand up now, since it's been established that Brad was in New York, not LA. If I come out and confirm it, he'll have to move on to the next line of attack, the drugs. Just what can he do to frame Brad if he is away?”
“Plant them!” they both gasped in unison.
“If he hasn’t done it already! That’s the problem,” Zaira agonized, running her fingers through her hair.
“But wouldn’t the police have gone through Brad's things by now?” Kelly wondered. “I mean, all they have are those photos of him supposedly dealing, but they're just as bogus as the porn ones, and Jonathan knows it."
"He thought the phots would be enough."
"So when he knows they're not—"
"He'll go on to plan B."
"Damn," Kelly swore softly. "He's a clever bastard, isn't he."
"You have no idea."
"Well, Brad would have stood no chance if you hadn't figured it out and not abandoned him when the first of the fake photos were published."
Zaira slumped against the back of the sofa and wrapped her arms around herself, chilled to the bone. "Don't remind me."
"We’ve got to search Brad’s house, and Cormac’s and the Studio offices, and then set up security cameras. If Jonathan shows his face, we’ve got him.”
“I’ll ring Cormac and set it up. Let’s hope you're right. If we see him, film him, we may be able to put him behind bars,” Zaira prayed.
Zaira phoned Cormac, and then contacted the papers. She told her side of the story, and waited. She couldn’t quell the sick feeling inside of her that something was going to go disastrously wrong, and she began to grow thin and pale, and frequently became ill as the days of stressful suspense passed.
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