by Kristen Rose
Verdad leans back into his cushiony black leather chair behind his cold glass desk – a shiny black phone pressed to his ear. A window behind him filling the entire length of the wall is covered completely with grey vertical shutters voiding the room of daylight, the remaining walls, an icy steel grey make the room darker still. Aside from two black leather chairs on the other side of the see-through desk, there is minimal furniture. Verdad’s voice oozes confidence as he speaks into the phone.
‘So, I’ll run through the main key points to make sure you understand how I want this to work.
‘I want you to act as normal as possible when you are around her.’ He places a polished tan leather shoe onto the desk. ‘Don’t try to ask silly questions. If she is faking and thinks any one is aware of it she might do something stupid. You have to be discreet. I don’t care how long it takes to come to a conclusion. Do whatever you think is necessary whilst still acting like a professional.’ He places his other polished shoe onto the desk. ‘Is there any legitimate way you can test her that might make her cave?’
‘Of course.’ The feminine voice on the other end responds. ‘If she is pretending, she’ll slip up eventually, they always do. Pretending to be insane is not as easy as people seem to think.’ The voice laughed. ‘All I have to do is monitor her all hours of the day and perform as much relevant psychological testing as I can. It will all be very professional, I assure you. She’ll give herself away without even realising it.’ She says confidently.
‘Good. Can you give me a rough estimate as to how long it might take you?’
‘I imagine as little as a few short weeks.’ Confidence exudes out of the receiver.
‘Really? That soon?’ Verdad smiles.
‘Of course.’
‘Excellent. You’ll still have to wait a little while before going in though, I haven’t quite worked out a fool proof way to get Granger out and you in.’ Verdad takes his shoes off the desk, sits up and rests forward.
‘Did I mention I know Dr Daniel Baker? He’s in charge of the hospital. Just tell this Granger to mention me to him. You know, put in a good word.’
‘I would, but there’s a slight problem with that.’ Verdad leans back into his chair.
‘What?’
‘Mr Granger is not in on my plan.’ He smiles to himself.
‘What do you mean?’ She says slowly.
‘Well, let’s just say he has no idea he’ll be retiring soon.’ Verdad leans back into his chair, grinning.
‘I see ... So, what are you going to do then?’
‘Leave it to me. But, don’t be surprised if you get a call in a few weeks’ time from this Dr Baker asking if you’re interested in working at his hospital.’
‘You’re not going to do anything bad to Dr Granger are you?’ Her voice slightly shaky.
‘No, no. Look, don’t worry about it. He mentioned he was in debt, I can easily pay him off. What sort of a person do you think I am? I don’t going around killing people.’ Verdad lets out an eerie laugh.
‘Of course not.’ There is a long pause.’ Why are you so concerned about whether or not this girl is actually sick?’
‘That’s none of your business.’ Verdad is short. ‘Now, I’ll contact you again just before you start work there to tie up any loose ends.’
‘Okay.’ Another pause. ‘What happens when I do give you an answer?’
‘I’ll work that out based on the answer you give me.’ Verdad says simply.
‘Well you must have some sort of idea.’ She scoffs. ‘If she’s pretending, what are you going to do?’
‘That’s for you to know when the time comes.’ Verdad grits his teeth. ‘I’ll talk to you in a few weeks.’ He is short and to the point. ‘Good day.’
‘Okay, bye.’
Verdad shuts the phone and places it down, composed. He rests his elbows onto the desk and cups his hands, resting his chin into them, deep in thought.
‘It’s just business,’ he says to himself, nodding. ‘It’s just business.’ He repeats, removing his hands from his chin and running them over his face. He pushes himself away from his desk quickly and flies up out of his chair, thundering his way over to the grey wall. He leans against it, shifting the mass of his weight into his raised hands. He touches his forehead against the wall’s cold surface and closes his eyes.
‘It’s just business, forget about her.’ He affirms once again out loud.
The handle on the oak door of his office begins to turn, then abruptly stops as it hits the lock, it is followed by a series of frantic rapid knocks. Verdad opens his eyes and glances towards the noise, an onset of tears giving his hazel eyes the appearance of glistening marbles.
‘Mr Verdad?’ A concerned older voice screams from the other side of the door. The knocks turn into bangs. ‘Mr Verdad? Are you there? Are you okay?’ Verdad pulls out of his resting position, rubs his face roughly with his hands and finishes by running them through his gelled blonde hair.
‘Yes Miss Coles, I’m here.’ He yells through the door, wiping his away his tears.
‘The door is locked!’
‘I know, I locked it.’ He sniffs, striding over to a mirror on the other side of the room.
‘What on earth for, you know I always use the intercom and if I don’t I knock and wait for permission before entering. Did you know the intercom is not working?’
‘Yes, I turned it off.’ Verdad’s voice is weak, he inspects his reflection.
‘But why?’ Miss Coles is concerned.
‘I just needed a little privacy, don’t worry, I’ll turn it back on now.’ Verdad shifts back over towards his desk, rubbing his eyes.
‘Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise. Don’t turn it back on just because I complained.’
‘It’s okay Miss Coles, I don’t need it off any more. In fact, I forgot I turned it off, thank you for reminding me.’ Verdad yells through the wall. He slumps himself back into his soft leather chair and flicks the switch on his intercom back into the ‘on’ position.
‘It’s back on Miss Coles.’ He says into it, remaining seated, not yet composed enough to open the door.
‘Oh, okay.’ Her voice yells through the door. A few seconds go by before she is heard through the intercom. ‘Umm ... well the only reason I knocked is because there’s someone here who wants to see you.’ Her voice erupts out of the intercom and echoes around the office.
‘Who?’ Verdad’s eyes are still red, his voice unsteady.
‘Some detective, he says his name is ...’ The noise of paper shuffling around her desk is heard for a second. ‘... Peter O’Connell.’ She says. ‘He’s wandering around in the show room at the moment waiting for you.’
Verdad eyes widen. ‘O’Connell?’ He shoots into the intercom.
‘Yes. Shall I go and get him?’
‘No!’ He shouts. ‘I’ll come out and see him.’ He leans away from the intercom and brushes down the fabric of his tan suit with his damp hands. He lets out a long breath before getting out of his chair and walking towards the door. Slowly, he unlocks it and pulls down on the handle. Plastering a smile on his face, he steps out of the office and closes the door swiftly behind him.
Miss Coles, his sixty year old secretary, looks up at him. Her hair is set in a short mass of natural grey curls and her skin, wrinkled more from the sun than from age, creases as she gives him a kind smile.
‘I’m glad you’re okay Mr Verdad. I was a little worried when you didn’t answer me on the intercom and then when I found the door locked, you could have just as well shocked my heart with a defibrillator. You know, sometimes the most unexpected disasters can happen to the least likely people. You could have collapsed from a brain haemorrhage and I wouldn’t have known.’ She reprimands. ‘That’s what happened to my husband.’ She added.
‘Thank you for taking such a kind interest in my wellbeing Miss Coles, I’m sorry I scared you. I assure you the next time I want a bit of privacy, I’ll let you know in advance.’ His tone soft.
&n
bsp; ‘I’d appreciate that. I don’t take scares as well as I used to, it’s a good thing no one saw my hysterical face.’
Verdad gives her a toothless smile. ‘Now — Mr O’Connell is in the showroom?’
‘Yes, maybe he wants to buy one of those new black things we got in last week.’ She enthuses, eyes wide.
Verdad laughs. ‘I doubt it Miss Coles.’
‘Oh, you never know, some people buy the most uncharacteristic things. I have a huge collection of vintage radios, but you never see me listening to the radio do you?’
‘No.’ Verdad smiles again. ‘Thank you Miss Coles. I’ll be back, soon, I hope.’
‘Oh, I hope not, that means he’s not buying a car!’ She calls after him.
‘Trust me,’ his voice carries back to her, ‘he’s not here to buy a car.’
He strides down the friendly opaque corridor, passing the busy offices and jogs down the large white stone stair case leading to the showroom. He manoeuvres himself proudly around the numerous Mercedes on display, scanning the entirety of the showroom for the detective. He locates O’Connell a few short seconds later at the far end of the building, ogling the new range Miss Coles had referred to. Verdad casually walks over to him.
‘O’Connell.’ He smiles, once within ear shot.
‘Oh, Verdad.’ O’Connell turns quickly upon hearing his name. ‘I was expecting to see you in your office.’ His shabby pale green suit out of place against the midnight black car.
‘Yes, well, it’s actually being re-painted at the moment so it’s not the best place to have a chat, fumes and everything. Here’s just fine.’ Verdad stares down at him, placing one hand inside his pant pocket.
‘Alright then.’ O’Connell crosses his arms.
‘So, here to question me about my newest secretary?’ Verdad condescends.
‘No. Actually, I was just passing by and I thought I might stop in and take a look at the new SLK-class range.’ O’Connell indicates the shiny black car elegantly displayed alongside him.
‘The SLK-class range?’ Verdad scoffs. ‘O’Connell, I’m a very busy man, I don’t need you coming down here and wasting my time.’ He laughs.
O’Connell walks over to the car and runs his hand along its roof, admiringly. ‘Wasting your time?’ He glances at Verdad. ‘That’s rather rude. I could have just inherited a large sum of money and I might have every intention of buying a car.’ O’Connell stares at his reflection in the black veneer.
‘Might? Look, as I said, I’m very busy. I have a lot of work to do. I’m not in the mood for a hypothetical sale. Get to the point, will you.’ Verdad creeps closer.
‘Okay.’ O’Connell sighs, turning away from the car. ‘I'm not here to buy a car but, I do have a question for you.’ Verdad stops and stares at him. His eyes light up.
‘Go ahead.’ He gestures.
‘Well,’ O’Connell places his hands inside his pockets. ‘I was just wondering why you went and visited Ian and Carol Barns a while back.’ He tilts his head to the side.
‘Hhh … how do you know I went and visited Ian and Carol Barns?’ Verdad squints. ‘Have you been following me?’ His face reddens.
‘No!’ O’Connell pouts. ‘My colleague, Rogers, has.’ He grins.
‘You know you have no right to have me followed, I can report you.’ Verdad’s tone icy.
‘Actually, you’re under investigation so technically you can’t report me and I do have the right to have you followed.
‘So,’ he removes his hands from his pockets. ‘Ian and Carol Barns? Trying to find out where Jennifer is hey?’ He turns and leans against the car’s glossy exterior. ‘Waste of time wasn’t it?’ He smiles.
‘I was giving them my condolences.’ Verdad strides forward and yanks O’Connell off of the car.
‘Your condolences?’ He utters incredulously shaking his arm out of Verdad’s forceful grip, glaring at him.
‘Yes. Having found out Jennifer is missing, I naturally wanted them to know I’m here for them. Carol was always very nice to me.’ Verdad brushes his hands down his golden jacket. ‘I suppose she felt sorry because I never knew my mother. I just wanted her to know that if she ever needed help with anything, I’m just a phone call away.’
‘Well, that’s very nice of you.’ O’Connell applauds. He strolls around towards the front of the car and stares at the windshield, checking out the price tag. He lets out an arched whistle.
‘I’m usually a nice guy when I’m not being accused of murder.’ Verdad spits, remaining where he is.
‘Is that so?’ O’Connell raises his eyes at him. ‘Well, I’ll be sure to remember that.’ He smirks, strolling back over to Verdad. ‘You won’t find her you know, no matter what you do.’ He leans into Verdad’s face. ‘She’s mine.’ He whispers with a grin.
‘Is that right?’ Verdad leans in as well. ‘Do you know what I think?’ He pauses. ‘I think that if you actually knew where she was, you wouldn’t be here chatting with me.’ Verdad matches O’Connell’s grin.
‘How do you know that?’ O’Connell delivers cheekily.
‘Good afternoon O’Connell.’ Verdad pulls away. ‘I don’t want to see you in here again unless you’re actually buying a car,’ he laughs, ‘or arresting me. And since neither of those two options are plausible, I guess I won’t be seeing you any time soon.’
‘Don’t be so confident Verdad, it could bring forth your downfall.’ O’Connell smiles once again, giving Verdad a friendly tap on the arm. ‘See you.’ He smiles. Verdad stares after him. O’Connell walks away, skipping lightly out of the spinning glass door at the front entrance of the building.
‘Hey you!’ Verdad turns fuming towards a cleaner wearing beige overalls, sweeping the floor a short distance away from him. The man looks up, his gaze turns to fear.
‘Yes Mr Verdad?’ His voice shakes.
‘Some idiot has smothered their filthy fingerprints all over this car.’ He points to the car O’Connell had been admiring. ‘Polish it. Now!’ The cleaner jumps.
‘Of ... of course Mr Verdad.’ The man drops his broom and runs in the opposite direction.
Verdad smiles to himself, chuckling as he watches the cleaner leave as fast as possible. He gives the brand new car one last glance, turns and heads back up the shiny white stone staircase.
#9 Group Therapy
