Unhappily Ever After Bk. 01 Ch. 05

'That confirms my suspicions about her so-called 'bug' after that cruise,' I thought as I listened to Tommy's report. 'And the six months during which we returned to a nearly-normal relationship afterwards.' It was obvious that she didn't give a fuck about passing HIV on to me. I guess she figured something as life-destroying as AIDS was worth sharing with her cuck husband.

"The bottom line is that during the nine years Sam had been employed by Moreton City Law, she has earned three-quarters of a million dollars in wages; only five hundred thousand of which has been deposited to the accounts you see. So far as you are concerned, her salary has stagnated, and she is currently sharing well below her true salary. In fact, before being elevated to junior partner rank, she was earning a little over one hundred and twenty thousand per year; not counting her performance bonuses. Her salary during the coming year will be around one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, plus a share of the firm's profits, plus performance bonuses. Plus, of course, her conference, seminar and private client earnings.

"Speaking of performance bonuses, she had picked up an additional five hundred thousand in work-related performance bonuses, none of which has been deposited to the accounts you would be aware of. If she has invested those additional earnings - which I believe she has done - she could be a millionaire in her own right. Confirming that that is the case is proving difficult, though, because most of that money is held in offshore accounts."

"How many people have you had working on this?" I asked. "You've achieved a hell of a lot in just a few days. I haven't even had time to look at the DVD and the other video files. Let alone listen to the voice recordings."

"This is much too sensitive to allow anyone else to have access to it," Tommy said. "Yes, it's a bit time-consuming. But not as much as you might think. Besides, it's an intriguing case, and I couldn't put it down now, even if I wanted to; which I don't."

My head was spinning as I left Tommy's place. I was having a hard time coming to terms with the depth of Sam's betrayal. At the same time, however, I had to admire the level of planning that had gone into her perfidy. There was no doubt that she had been using me. But I wondered if she was also using Kingston? I thought she probably was. The corners of my mouth turned up in a half-smile at that thought.

---oooBJSooo---

I arrived back at my company's compound just after two-thirty and, after parking my truck in the staff parking area at the back of the building, headed up to my office. Shirley gave me a wan smile when I passed her on my way to my suite. As expected, Todd and Charlie had not yet returned from 'lunch'.

I texted Tommy. "Subjects still at Hilton?"

"Yep," came his reply less than a minute later.

"DNA evidence of their coupling might not go astray," I texted. "The same with copies of billing details for room and lunch."

"Good thinking. Will arrange."

I answered with the usual thumbs-up emoji.

While awaiting their return, I called my HR manager to see how Matt White's interview had gone.

"Exceptionally well," she said. "I must admit that I was initially intimidated by his size and bulk, but he proved to be open and ingenuous. My only concern is that he is much smarter than your average construction labourer, which tells me he won't be with us long.

"He also told me that he's looking forward to resuming his studies once he has a regular job, which reinforced my doubts about his long-term prospects with the company.

"Despite all that, I found nothing during my interview or in anything I learned while conducting my background check on him that would preclude us from employing him. I've scheduled him to start work tomorrow morning and have put him on with George Casey's crew as you requested."

"Thank you, Elizabeth," I said. "I owed him a favour, and, as you've probably learned by now, I'm not one to forget a debt owed. What he does with the opportunity I've given him is entirely up to him. I've fulfilled my end of the bargain."

My next call was to my finance manager.

"Can you spare me a few minutes, Manny?" I asked. "I've only just realised that it's been a while since I bought you a cup of coffee."

"That would be nice, My Vriend," he answered using the Afrikaan term. "I was thinking the same thing just this morning."

"How about we catch up across the road in about ten minutes?"

"Excellent idea," he responded.

I arrived a few minutes ahead of him and ordered a large cappuccino for me and a large long black with an extra shot for Manny. He walked in just as they were being served.

I stood to greet him, and we shook hands before taking our seats.

"I've been wanting to catch up with you since Monday," he said. "I heard that there was a bit of a ruckus at your wife's firm's Christmas function on Friday night and wanted to let you know that I'm available if you need a bit of extra muscle."

"Thank you, Manny," I responded. "As it turns out, I could use a bit of help. But it has nothing to do with anything coming out of last Friday night; at least, I don't believe it does. And it needs brains more than brawn.

"On Friday night, I discovered that I've been blind to many of the things that have been going on around me. To a large extent, that blindness resulted from trusting people who were not worthy of that trust.

"Yesterday, I learned that my blindness wasn't only limited to my personal life but extended into my business operation. That's when I discovered that someone I've trusted implicitly, almost from the day I opened the doors of Aaron Bourke Constructions, has been using my operation to advance their own agenda.

"What surprises me most about that discovery is that I discovered it by accident. Not a single member of either my management team or my supervisory staff had brought it to my attention.

"The really sad thing about that is that the only reason I can think of for that breakdown in communications is that everyone thought I was complicit in what was happening."

"And what is it that's been happening that no one has mentioned?" Manny asked.

"The white supremacist movement that has been growing within my company under my nose," I responded angrily. "From the top to the bottom, my whole security unit is made up of a bunch of rabid Neo-Nazis!"

"Oh, that," Manny said, lowering his head in shame. "Yes, we did think you knew about it and, if not complicit in their presence in your firm, they either had you under their thumb, or you were turning a blind eye to their activities."

"If that's what you thought," I said, "why is it that you, of all people, are still working for me?"

"Don't forget," Manny said, "that I grew up in what is probably the most racist country on the planet. Being a Jew in South Africa was like walking around with a bullseye on your back. I learned to live with it.

"Playing Rugby allowed me to get some of my own back on those who saw me as a target. Over time, the bullying slowed to a trickle. Too many of the racist bullies were getting their testicles ruptured and bones broken on the playing field.

"After the formation of the Government of National Unity in 1994, the tables were turned. My family - along with thousands of others - realised that we were standing in line to be murdered as part of the retribution for apartheid. We emigrated to Australia in 2000.

"While we gradually learned to relax in our new country, we never forgot that danger lurked around every corner. We never let down our guard. You know you're sitting behind a former South African or Zimbabwean at a set of traffic lights, for example, because they always allow at least two car lengths between their car and the one in front of them. It's a habit we developed to give us a path of escape in case of trouble. And, as the saying goes, old habits die hard.

"I didn't say anything about the racism in your organisation because it was normal; to me, at least.

"Why am I still here? Because, despite the racism, I found you to be an honest and honourable man. You treat your employees, clients and suppliers with courtesy and respect. Most importantly, you've always treated me well and shown me respect. You have always seemed to value my opinion. And in the time I have worked for you, I've never once heard you say a derogatory word about anyone or run anyone down to others.

"The fact that you have asked me over here to discuss this issue reinforces my opinion of you. I am ashamed that I thought you were somehow involved with Mr Manyweather - do you know that he insists that his men refer to him as 'Major'? - and that you agreed with their racist mantra."

"Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me, Manny," I said. "I appreciate it. In fact, I'm embarrassed that you think so highly of me.

"With those things out of the way, though, let's get to the point of this meeting.

"The discovery of 'Major' Manyweather's branch of the Ku Klux Klan - or whatever it is he calls his group - on my business premises made me wonder who is paying for its operation? I strongly suspect that I am the one who's been footing the bill.

"Working on that assumption, I want you to conduct an audit on his whole security operation, starting from the day he started working for me."

I saw a smile fix itself on Manny's face. He recognised that I was giving him an opportunity to break a few bones and massage a few sets of testicles; even if only in a figurative sense.

"A couple of words of warning before you accept this task," I said. "The first is that it could be dangerous. These men are all ex-military. They wouldn't think twice before making you disappear should they get wind of what you are doing for me.

"The second warning is that I have recently come to believe my whole office and warehouse building has been subject to video and audio surveillance for some time."

"I've suspected I've been under surveillance for a while," Manny said. "But I thought it was just me. In a way, it's good to know that I'm not alone. I have found ways of overcoming that little problem, however.

"I have set up a virtual private network - a VPN - and work on my most sensitive projects from home. What you are asking me to do is not something new. I have been conducting mini-audits on various sections of the business ever since I started working for you.

"I have to admit that I've only stuck my toes into the water so far as the security unit is concerned because I didn't want to cause even the slightest ripple. Now I know you're not involved, I don't have to hold back."

I reminded him of the potential dangers he'd face by taking on this project, but he laughed them off.

"It took me a while, but I overcame my fears after arriving in Australia. But just because I no longer have to walk around with a gun on my hip doesn't mean I've forgotten what danger feels like. And I recognised Manyweather and his number one man as dangerous people the first time I laid eyes on them.

"My wife and I separated not long before I came to work for you. In fact, it was that separation and subsequent divorce that prompted me to dump my former job and apply for the position with your firm.

"I live alone, and apart from my ongoing passion for Rugby, I have plenty of time to focus on one or two projects. One of those is keeping an eye on your finances by conducting the occasional spot audit of construction jobs; which is something we need to talk about later. The other is working on the restoration of my old 1936 Ford Cabriolet."

After briefly discussing our restoration projects, I swung the conversation back to the audit, suggesting that Manny should begin by examining the company's use of hotels and motels.

"A bill will come in for lunch for two and a room at the Hilton for today," I said. "If you discover where that cost is allocated, you might find a Pandora's Box of similar charges dating back a few years.

"Don't follow them up yourself," I instructed him. "I don't want you putting yourself in the firing line. I have other people who can do that for us. Your role is that of an analyst, gathering intelligence for me and others to work with. Without you there doing your job, I won't have the information I need to fix Mr Manyweather's little red wagon. I don't want you exposed."

Just as I was settling our bill - we'd had three rounds of coffee while we'd been talking - I saw Todd drive into the compound. It was almost ten-to-four. Not seeing my truck, he must have assumed I hadn't yet returned, so he parked his car in his usual parking bay in the front of the office building.

Excusing myself, I went to the door of the café and took my phone from my pocket. After zooming in on his car, I set it to video and started filming.

Todd exited the car and walked around to open the door for Charlie, helping her to her feet. Apart from looking somewhat dishevelled, she seemed wobbly on her pins. He pulled her to him and laid a deep, tongue-swirling kiss on her. She offered no resistance. Rather, she put her arms around him and held him tightly.

After breaking their lip lock, he reached into the car and handed out her shoulder bag before slamming the door shut. He then escorted her into the front of the office complex. Kathy would have seen the whole thing from her place at the reception desk.

His performance, I knew, was a blatant display of ownership, knowing that the message would eventually find its way back to me. In his own way, he was declaring war. Perhaps, like Nathan Kingston before him, he believed I would willingly accept being publicly humiliated and cuckolded.

Todd-fucking-Manyweather and Nathan-fucking-Kingston, were about to learn that they were living in La-La Land.

I sent Manny back to the office before ordering a cup of tea; I'd had enough coffee to keep me awake for a week. After settling back into the booth he and I had occupied, I started reading the daily paper the café owner supplied for her customers. There was no point in rushing back to the office.

Before opening the paper, however, I called Shirley and asked her to lock my office and set Charlie up in the meeting room to await my return.

"Tell Ms Brown I'm running late," I told her. "And play nice,"

"Sure thing, Boss," she answered.

---oooBJSooo---

I didn't get to read the paper. I spent the next hour texting Prancer. He was no longer Tommy, and I was no longer Aaron. We were now fully operational. And we had reverted to our old operational personas. He was Prancer, and I was Stoney.

"Check out recent vision of front carpark, my office," was the content of my first text.

"Wow!" came his reply a couple of minutes later. "Blatant!"

"He has declared war!" I said. "I want a fully armed replacement team ready to rock and roll at six o'clock tomorrow morning."

"Their first job will be to round up every member of the existing crew. They will be restrained and relieved of any weapons they might be carrying. Their vehicles will be searched for illegal substances and contraband or stolen items. Their lockers will also be searched, and the police will be informed of anything found."

"Give your friend's police contact a heads-up, Have him ready to swoop as soon as he has been informed that offences have been committed. Tell him that they will probably relate to domestic terrorism."

"I have already arranged for an audit of the security unit's operations and expect fraud charges to ensue."

"What about Charlie?" Prancer asked.

"Charlie who?" I responded.

"She'll get the same treatment my wife received. Whatever her intentions were when she stepped over the line, she's passed the point of no return. She is no longer of any concern to me."

"When her fuck-buddy brings her out to pick up her belongings, she'll find them loaded in her car, which will be parked in the lay-by beside my front gate. Everything will be as it was when we first met on Monday night; right down to the chain on the gate."

Prancer came back after a brief pause.

"Can we switch to voice?"

"Go," I responded.

Thirty seconds later, my second burner phone vibrated.

"Are you sure about Charlie?" he asked, getting straight into it.

"Dead sure," I answered. "She went into her liaison with Manyweather with the full knowledge of my feelings about betrayal. We talked about it only last night, for fuck's sake!

"As far as I understood it, we were entering into a committed relationship. Obviously, I misunderstood her intentions. Even as we were talking about it, she was planning her betrayal.

"But I'll tell you what. If you're asking me to give her a chance to explain her actions, I'll do just that. Although I have an unpleasant feeling that my belief that she has irretrievably crossed the line will be proven within five minutes of meeting up with her."

When I received no response from my friend, I continued.

"How are we going with everything else?" I asked.

"The stage-one deliveries have already been made, and targets should all be stopped and searched this evening or tonight. Quite a few of the people concerned attend a girl's night out on Wednesday nights and will be subjected to breathalyzer tests on their way home afterwards.

"The two female junior partner's significant others generally stop for a drink or two on their way home from work. They, too, will be pulled over and their vehicles checked.

"The wives of the senior partners were a little more difficult to set up. But they are members of a bridge club, which meets at the Moreton City Country Club on Wednesday nights. All the bridge club members will be pulled over just down the road from the club. Sadly, the five MCL wives won't be continuing their homeward journey after their vehicles have been searched.

"I'd suggest that, once you have rearranged Charlie's parking location, you drive back into town in your Chrysler to give her the bad news. It might pay to top up your tank from the stash of fuel you have in your garage; if only to ensure there is no residue in the filler pipe. And, yes, I agree with you that she has gone well beyond the pale.

"It won't hurt for you to be swept up in the net. I've added your name to the list of suspects just so you aren't singled out for special attention when they start looking for who might have planted the evidence.

"While the partners of those arrested are running around trying to get their spouses out of the calaboose, we will be undertaking stage two. We'll be putting the saleable quantities in the target's vehicles and offices. I have it on good authority that the search of those places will be a natural extension of the original arrests.

"By the time the first members of the stage-one group start hitting the police stations, your investigative reporter will have received a leak that the police are investigating a drug syndicate and that several well-connected people are involved. If he's as good as his reputation says he is, his gut will be rumbling, and his newsman's nose will be twitching.

"By Friday, he'll get wind of a State Crime Commission investigation into the police use of lawyers as confidential informants. We'll then sit back and let him tie the two pieces of information together.

"The fact that everyone - the police, the law society, the politicians and the State Crime Commission - will be vehemently denying any connection between the two stories should be enough to convince him of its veracity. He'll be like a Rottweiller on a burglar's shin bone.

"All he'll need to confirm the leaked story will be for the SCC to hit him with a gag order or for the lawyers involved in the drugs scandal to be put into protective custody. Of course, if both were to happen, he'll be creaming in his jeans."