Jigsaw Lovers

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Jigsaw Lovers Page 8

by William Shenton


  ‘James?’

  ‘The man I was with. It’ll put me off my food,’ she laughed.

  ‘Easily done. Shall we go?’

  Diana actually enjoyed dinner. Samuels was very charming and pleasant company. Admittedly, he had a very high opinion of himself and was something of a show-off, but then that was probably because he knew he was good at what he did. He had told her he was a broker and she had looked suitably impressed.

  He had excused himself a couple of times during the evening to go to the toilet, and when he returned he seemed to be even more sure of himself, and somewhat exuberant. Diana also noticed that he tended to sniff frequently.

  It was as they were having coffee and liqueurs, and after yet another trip to the toilet, that Samuels asked her if she would like to go to Tuscany with him.

  He tried to make it sound casual and off-hand, but Diana detected that he was being completely serious.

  ‘I thought you were a little forward before, but that was nothing compared with this latest suggestion.’ Diana laughed to maintain a feeling of levity.

  ‘At least you haven’t said no.’ He sat back and smelt his cognac.

  ‘Neither have I said yes.’ She flicked a strand of loose hair off her cheek.

  ‘You said earlier, you needed to get away from it all to have time to think. This is the perfect opportunity.’

  ‘Sounds like I’d be getting out of the frying pan into the fire.’

  ‘Not at all. You’d have a choice of five bedrooms, and I promise I’ll behave myself.’

  ‘I should hope so too.’ She sounded severe but her look was playful. He felt encouraged to carry on with his attempt to persuade her to accompany him.

  ‘Haven’t you had a pleasant evening tonight? We seem to get on well together.’

  ‘That’s true. I have enjoyed your company, but there’s a difference between spending an evening together and spending a week together.’

  ‘Ten days,’ he said cheekily. She couldn’t help but laugh.

  ‘But we’ve only just met. I hardly know you.’

  ‘Trust your instincts. It’ll be fun.’

  She stirred her coffee pensively, as though considering the situation. He looked across the table at her expectantly.

  ‘Do you have a business card?’ she asked.

  ‘Here.’ he pulled one from his jacket top pocket, and handed it to her.

  ‘I’ll think about it and phone you in the morning. If I haven’t phoned you by twelve, then I’m not coming. Whatever I decide, I’ve enjoyed this evening, but I really must leave now. Thank you.’

  She stood up, kissed him lightly on the cheek and walked out into the street.

  Hamilton reached over to answer the telephone. ‘Mr Hamilton? This is Pamela at Mutual Insurance.’

  ‘Yes. Good morning.’ She was his broker. ‘I’m well thank you.’

  ‘Mr Hamilton, there seems to be an error with your monthly debit payments for the regular unit trust purchases, and for your medical aid insurance payments.’

  ‘I’m afraid it’s no error.’

  ‘No, what I mean is they haven’t been paid for the last two months, and your bank has returned them saying “Refer to Drawer”.’

  ‘That’s because at the moment I don’t have any money.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that. If there’s a problem we can defer payments for a couple of months, but after that I’m afraid your medical aid will lapse.’

  ‘A couple of months won’t really help. I’m in the midst of a severe cashflow problem with the business, and I think it will be at least six months before its rectified.’

  ‘That is a shame.’ she sounded genuinely sympathetic, no doubt because she could see her commission on his policies coming to an end. ‘Can’t your bank help? Maybe a loan?’

  ‘The Bank is the main reason I’m in this position. I don’t have a very friendly manager.’ There was an edge to Hamilton’s voice.

  ‘Well, I’m sure things will get better. In the meantime, the unit trusts aren’t a problem. You can start buying those again whenever you like.’

  ‘I’ve been meaning to call you about those. I’d like you to arrange to sell them all for me.’

  ‘It’s not a good time to sell. At present the market’s at one of its lowest points for years. I recommend that you wait.’

  ‘I don’t really have a choice. I need the money to meet my expenses for this month.’

  ‘Very well then. If you’re sure you have to then I’ll arrange it for you. You should have the money in the next few days. I do hope things get better for you soon. If there’s anything I can do to help please call me.’

  ‘Thank you.’ He hung up.

  When the cheque arrived for the proceeds of the sale of the unit trusts he found that he had indeed been forced to sell at the bottom of the market. He was extremely cross to see that he had barely recovered his original investment of the last four years, but, at least, it enabled him to survive another month.

  Samuels’s telephone rang many times the next morning, but not once was it Diana Johnston. It was now almost twelve and he was beginning to think that she wasn’t going to call. Not to worry, he told himself, it had been a pleasant evening, and he could probably find any one of a number of girls who would jump at the offer of a free holiday with him. However, there were none whom he would rather take than Diana. Although he had only spent one evening with her, he had been completely enchanted by her. He looked at his watch; twelve noon exactly. The minutes ticked by. She wasn’t going to call.

  Then the telephone rang. It startled him.

  ‘Ben? It’s Diana.’

  ‘Good heavens. I didn’t think you were going phone. It’s past twelve.’

  ‘It’s a woman’s prerogative to be late. Thank you for dinner last night. I’m sorry I had to rush off so quickly.’

  ‘That’s quite all right.’ Should he ask her or wait for her to tell him?

  ‘I’ve given your offer about Tuscany some thought.’ She paused.

  ‘Oh yes?’ he held his breath.

  ‘If you still want me to come with you, then I’d love to.’

  He couldn’t believe his luck.

  ‘I do, honestly.’ He was telling the truth.

  ‘There are a couple of conditions. I pay my own way, and I’m afraid, I can only go for a week. There was something I couldn’t rearrange at such short notice.’

  ‘There’s a flight on Saturday morning, if that’s convenient for you.’

  ‘Sounds great.’

  ‘I’ll book the tickets and let you know what time I’ll pick you up,’ he said.

  ‘Ben, I think its better if I call you, and arrange to meet you at the airport. As you may have realised from last night, my domestic arrangements aren’t very stable at the moment and I don’t want to upset things any further.’

  ‘I understand. Not a problem.’

  ‘I’ll call you in a couple of hours.’

  Ben Samuels sat back with a very big smile on his face. Everything in his life was going very well indeed. A free holiday courtesy of Ackermann, the opportunity to make vast amounts of money, thanks to Ackermann, and now a week with a stunningly beautiful woman. Nothing could go wrong.

  Ben Samuels and Diana Johnston drove through the small Tuscan hill town of Lucignano, just after three in the afternoon. A few kilometres out of town they took a dirt road that weaved its way through vineyards, which covered the gentle slope of the hillside, at the top of which stood the farmhouse. They were met by a middle-aged couple, who looked after the house and gardens, and who would come in each day to clean up, and cook if required.

  They had hired a car from Pisa’s Galileo Galilei airport and driven to Florence where they had had lunch.

  Ben had been amused by the effect Diana had on the waiters. They were falling over themselves, bustling to be of service. Although they spoke English to them, Ben had wondered what comments they were making when they reverted to Italian amongst themselves.
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  He found out as they were leaving. With mock grandeur and much amusement the waiters lined up and bowed as they went to the door, asking if they had enjoyed their meal and insisting that the signorina must come and visit again.

  At the door Diana turned and delivered a speech in fluent Italian. The smiles dropped from the faces of the waiters, as they realised she had understood every word of their ribald comments during lunch. Then she laughed, restoring the previous atmosphere, and left blowing them a kiss.

  Ben was equally surprised.

  ‘I didn’t know you spoke Italian. What did you say to them?’ he asked.

  ‘Nothing much. Over lunch they’d been wondering what you had that a girl like me would be interested in. So I told them.’

  ‘What did you tell them? Actually, on second thoughts, its probably better if I don’t know’

  She laughed. ‘I said you were very rich, had a big house and a fast sports car.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  She took his arm with both hands, and with a sidelong glance at him continued. ‘But best of all, I said you were a fantastic lover, a real stallion. At least six times a night.’

  ‘Well, I’ll try not to disappoint you.’ he said with a grin. The holiday had begun well.

  The house was large, on two storeys, with thick stone walls which kept the interior refreshingly cool in the height of summer. Upstairs was a living area that lead onto a huge tiled balcony, with stone balustrade. They spent the first evening here, under the stars, having a supper of cold meats and cheeses, with slightly chilled red Chianti Classico, and then fresh fruit, grapes, figs and peaches.

  ‘I’m so glad you decided to come.’ Ben looked at her. She was wearing a cream silk shirt, the front tails of which she had tied at the waist. It revealed her flat tanned stomach above frayed denim shorts.

  ‘So am I. It’s so romantic. Just look at all those stars.’ She tilted her head back. ‘You never see them like that in London.’

  The air, becoming slightly cooler now as the evening wore on, was filled with the gentle rhythmic sound of crickets chirping.

  He reached slowly across the table and took her hand. She looked down for a moment, then stood up and walked round behind him. She bent down, put her arms around his chest and rubbed her face against the side of his head, kissing his ear. Her long blonde hair dangled in his face.

  ‘Shall we go to bed?’ she whispered. ‘I want to see if what I told those waiters really is true.’

  She led him slowly by the hand into the house.

  A loud, continuous, sharp knocking awoke Hamilton just before seven o’clock in the morning. It stopped for a few seconds and then resumed. He climbed out of bed, grabbed a dressing gown and headed for the front door. Upon opening it he was confronted by a short, well-built man with greasy hair and a shiny shirt and tie. He had an air of confidence and efficiency about him.

  ‘Good morning, sir. Are you Mr Ian Hamilton?’

  ‘Yes, I am.’

  ‘Sorry to call so early, sir. Its just that we find its easier to get hold of most people at this time. Before they leave for the day.’ He had obviously used this line a hundred times and he certainly didn’t sound the least bit sorry.

  ‘What do you want?’

  ‘I’ve been instructed by Motor Finance to collect the car registration CA227158. Unless of course you can give me a cheque for the outstanding balance.’

  ‘No, I’m afraid I can’t.’ Hamilton smiled with quiet resignation to the fact that from now on he’d be walking.

  ‘Then I must ask you for the keys, please sir. I have all the documentation and authorisations from the company here, if you’d like to check it, or phone them to confirm my identity.’

  Hamilton gave it a cursory glance and signed where indicated.

  ‘Let me put some clothes on, and I’ll come down with you. There are a few CDs and maps in the car I need.’

  A few minutes later Hamilton stood on the pavement as his repossessed car disappeared round the corner at the end of the road.

  ‘They arrived at the house on Saturday afternoon. Fabio and Maria had everything in place. He’s been sending DVDs back by DHL every day.’ James was briefing Ackermann on what they had found out from Ben Samuels.

  ‘For the first five days there was nothing of any interest to us concerning his share dealings for you. She hadn’t brought the subject up and he hadn’t volunteered any information.’

  ‘She’s taking her time, isn’t she? It’s not meant to be a holiday for her.’ Ackermann was gruff.

  ‘I think she’s gaining his confidence, putting him at ease. She doesn’t have to rush things. That way she’ll probably get far more out of him without arousing his suspicions.’

  ‘Let’s hope you’re right.’ His disposition this morning was not the best.

  ‘There is one thing that has come to light, which may or may not be related to your specific enquiry, but is certainly of interest to us.’

  Ackermann looked up. ‘Go on.’

  ‘He’s a relatively heavy coke user.’

  ‘Is that so?’ Ackermann said slowly, and then quickly snapped, ‘Why didn’t you pick up on that before, James? You don’t normally miss something like that.’

  ‘I’ve already had it investigated. It seems that when we originally checked him he must have been very discreet and we missed it by chance. Or he wasn’t using then. Also, he doesn’t seem to display any of the normal symptoms that are associated with the drug. He seems to have a healthy appetite, and when I met him, for the first time, the other night I didn’t detect any signs such as undue sweating or dilated pupils. You’ve also spent a certain amount of time in his presence, and I assume you haven’t noticed anything. It’s just bad luck.’ James felt uneasy at his shortcomings, and was aware that Ackermann’s present mood left something to be desired.

  ‘Sloppy. Be more thorough in future,’ added Ackermann harshly.

  Fortunately, by the time of the next briefing Ackermann was in a much better frame of mind, which was just as well considering the news that James had to impart to him.

  ‘This is a transcript of yesterday’s DVD. I’ve highlighted the salient details.’ James began as he handed over a folder to Ackermann.

  ‘Give me the gist of what’s here.’

  ‘Bottom line. He’s screwing you. No doubt about it at all.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘After an initial trial period when you followed quite closely what he was doing, and you found it satisfactory, you gave him complete discretion on the management of your portfolio.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right. I haven’t had the time recently to be too involved,’ Ackermann explained somewhat defensively. ‘When I did check I was quite surprised by some of the losses. There were some inexplicable sales and some even more bizarre purchases. That’s why I asked you to look into him for me.’ Ackermann went to the drinks cabinet and poured them both a whisky. He remained standing as James continued.

  ‘Listening to the latest tape, you’ll find that he interprets the freedom you gave him as a sign of weakness. He reckons he’ll be able to get away with deceiving you. He’s also of the opinion that you’re past it, and are too slow and foolish to pick up on what he’s doing.’

  ‘Does he now?’ interjected Ackermann thoughtfully.

  ‘His exact words were,’ James reached for the file and flipped through a few pages. ‘“He called me into his office the other day to ask why he’d lost so much. I gave him this excuse I’d prepared about the unpredictability of the markets, etc, etc, and the old fool lapped it up. He’s got no idea. And what’s more he thought I was overworked and in need of a holiday. That’s why we’re here. He’s paid for all this. What a sucker!”’ James noticed the frown on Ackermann’s face. The future did not look bright for Samuels.

  ‘So I’m an old fool, am I?’ he caught James’s eye. ‘You needn’t answer that, thank you, James.’

  ‘Wouldn’t dare to, sir.’ James was thankful he was in a bett
er mood today.

  ‘So how’s he stealing my money?’

  ‘It seems he uses a variety of methods.’ James then proceeded to outline some of the ways in which Samuels was siphoning off the proceeds from the deals he did on behalf of Ackermann. When he had finished Ackermann stood in silence, then proceeded to fill both their glasses, leaving the open bottle on the desk in front of them.

  ‘James,’ he said after a while. ‘I don’t respond kindly to being swindled out of my money.’

  ‘Not many people do, Sir. Its a considerable sum that he’s taken.’

  ‘The amount is immaterial. It’s a matter of principle. He has abused my trust, and that of my associates and friends. The man needs to be taught a lesson. He needs to be taught some manners. I should have done it long ago instead of tolerating his appalling behaviour, just because he was bringing in the results.’ Ackermann’s voice was calm but there was an underlying menace to it.

  ‘I agree. Such actions cannot go unpunished.’

  ‘He has betrayed me. He is a traitor. There is only one punishment for treason.’ The statement contained a sense of finality.

  ‘How would you like me to proceed?’

  ‘You say he has a drug problem?’

  ‘Cocaine.

  ‘Yes. Can’t we take advantage of that. It’s clear it’s affected his judgement. Drugs can be quite damaging for one’s health, can’t they?’

  ‘Coke itself is relatively harmless. However, if it’s impure, or if an unscrupulous dealer cuts it with the wrong substance – an extreme example might be rat poison – then it can be very dangerous. There’s no telling what the consequences might be.’

  ‘I was watching Pulp Fiction the other day. Doesn’t a woman in that have problems with snorting cocaine?’ James hid his surprise at his employer’s choice of film.

  ‘I remember the scene – yes – she snorts one hundred per cent pure heroin, thinking it’s coke. Such action normally leads to a massive cardiac arrest and certain death, unless it’s treated immediately, by someone who knows what to do.’

  ‘Maybe, Mr Samuels may one day fall victim to such a fate.’

  ‘There’s every possibility that might be the case,’ said James, knowingly.

 

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