Sins of the Master

by Catherine Taylor

  “I already have,” Lance admitted. “And it’s strange, I’ll give you that, but what type of man calls himself Master? This is the twenty-first century. The man has to be a lunatic.”

  Adele reached over and grasped his hand. “I know it’s a long shot but it’s all I have. The bank in the Caymans is refusing to admit that the records are false. They have copies of my passport and driver’s license used to set up the account. The only challenge to that is their affidavit which confirms that their system was hacked and the only account touched was the one in my name. I have to use that, or just give up and let them lock me away.”

  “No.” Lance fixed his gaze upon her. “I’ll never let that happen. You just keep telling me what you need and you’ll have it. I’ll mortgage this house before I would allow something to happen to you.”

  Adele smiled. “You’re too kind for your own good, Dad. Thank you, but what I need is time. I have to face a courtroom sooner or later and I will need evidence to postpone this trial. It may take months before I have enough information to make a case.”

  Lance gripped her hand tighter and stared back at the television, nodding. “And I’ll just keep calling in all my favours and make sure you have all the time in the world.”

  “Speaking of which, who do you know in Immigration that would be willing to look up a few records for me?”

  “Derek or Smithy. They both owe me favours. What do you want to find out?”

  “I want to find out if Tyler was in France at the same time Mary was murdered.”

  Lance sat up and frowned at her. “Are you thinking that this man murdered Mary?”

  “Yes,” she nodded. “If she was working for him, wouldn’t that make him the most likely suspect? Maybe something went wrong with their perverted relationship and he was finished with her.”

  “Good lord,” Lance gasped. “That hadn’t even crossed my mind, though now you say it, I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me sooner. Who on earth are you up against, Adele?”

  “A very dangerous man.”

  “To say the least. We need to start talking with someone about this, the police or…”

  “Not without evidence, Dad. At the moment, all I have is a few pictures of Tyler and three women, and a theory.”

  “But you could be in real danger. If this man has any idea that you’re coming after him…”

  “He won’t, because I won’t make mistakes. I now have some idea of how easily computers can be hacked. I’ve even gone out and bought a new laptop, just in case. I’m going to start doing all my research at Mum’s apartment so he can’t tap into our phone line.”

  “I’d still like to talk to someone and run this by them, someone who could very well be a good friend to have on side.”

  “Who?”

  “Martin.”

  Adele’s eyes widened. “As in Martin Kutcher, the deputy Prime Minister?”

  Lance nodded. “We’ve known each other a long time, and he’s been supportive already, though he can’t be seen to be getting involved. Let me show him those pictures and anything else you have and let me talk with him.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Adele, you used to babysit his daughter. Our families have been away on holidays together, and Martin isn’t about to do anything foolish, but he might have some ideas and he has access to better information.”

  After some thought, Adele nodded solemnly. “I suppose it can’t hurt. Martin has been a good friend, but let’s see what Brendan has for us first. The more evidence we have, the more likely Martin is to listen to you.”

  “And this must remain between you and me, Adele. We certainly can’t have it out there that the Deputy Prime Minister is involved in this. The media would have a field day.”

  “I know, Dad.”

  “And that goes for your mother as well. She’s stressed enough without learning that we’re dealing with murderers. She would just about go out of her mind.”

  “I know just what Mum is like.” She gave him a cheery smile. “And you stop worrying too. I’m going to be fine. Let’s go to the airport and meet this Brendan North.”

  * * * * *

  The moment Esther walked into Tammy’s bedroom, she knew the older woman was up to something. The flurried movement to sit down on the bed and an anxious, red face gave her away.

  “What are you up to, Tammy?”

  “Nothing. I thought you were with Daddy.”

  “We’ve finished our work for the day and Master has gone to collect the deliveries. I thought I would come spend time with you.”

  “Why?” Tammy pouted.

  “Because I enjoy being with you,” Esther smiled.

  “If that were true. You wouldn’t leave me. You wouldn’t go away to live with Yvette and leave me all alone.”

  Esther breathed out slowly. “That’s not my choice, you know that.”

  “Maybe not at first, but now I hear you talking to Yvette and making plans and you’re all excited and you don’t even care about me.”

  “That’s not true. I love you, Tammy. You’re my sister.”

  “No, I’m not. We’re not even related.” Her expression became vacant, staring out at nothing. “You don’t know anything real about me, just the stories I make up about my life before Daddy.”

  “You were married to a banker…”

  Tammy shook her head. “He wasn’t a banker. He was a monster.”

  “And he forced you to have an abortion.”

  “That’s not what happened. I made it all up because Daddy doesn’t want any of you to know the truth, or what I did.” She pouted tearfully and stared at Esther. “I did something terrible, Esther. Daddy says it wasn’t my fault, but I knew exactly what I was doing.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Esther stated. “What we were before we came to Master isn’t who we are now. We all made mistakes.”

  Tammy continued to stare at her. “You’re not the first one to be sent away when they didn’t want to go. Daddy can be really mean sometimes. I’ve seen it. I was there when he sent Mary away, and then she died and I never got to see her again.”

  Esther glanced nervously towards the open door. Talking about Tammy’s past was strictly forbidden, as was Dylan’s history, not that any of them knew much. Even Yvette was much in the dark, or so she said. Tammy had been there longer than both of them and this was too good a chance to let slip by.

  She closed the door first before posing her question. “Who’s Mary?”

  “Mary was one of the first, before me,” Tammy replied. “She was weird but I liked her. She worked in the government, and she and Daddy used to go into their secret room and work together.”

  “What secret room?”

  “The one in the library, behind the bookcase. There are computers and screens and all sorts of equipment in it.”

  “Tammy,” Esther said nervously. “We’re not allowed to go into the library without Master. How would you know that?”

  “I know lots of things, but Daddy thinks I’m stupid.”

  “He doesn’t think that at all, Tammy. You mustn’t say that.”

  “Do you know why he keeps me?”

  “Because he loves you and you have always been his favourite.”

  “No.” Tammy reached behind her and brought up a photo. “It’s because I remind him of her. That’s who he really loves, his girlfriend.”

  Esther took the photo and stared at the naked girl. She was standing, facing a corner of a room, with her head turned back to the camera. Her bottom was red, as if recently spanked, but she seemed to be laughing and happy. There were similarities to Tammy, with both women being short, plump, big breasted and having large rounded bottoms, but the other girl was much younger.

  “Where did you get this?”

  “His safe. This is just one of them. I know all of the codes to get into things, and I go in there all the time, just to have a look. I’m going to put it back, so you can’t tell him.”

  “Tammy, you are
going to be in so much trouble if he finds out.”

  “I don’t care,” she huffed. “Mary wanted to tell me something and he wouldn’t let her, so I’ve tried to find out for myself.”

  “And have you?”

  Tammy shook her head. “No, and Daddy won’t tell me.”

  “He must have a good reason.” Esther looked at the photo again. “Is this Mary?”

  “No, this one is Lena, or I think it is, because sometimes he calls me Lena and it’s because I look like her.”

  “This doesn’t mean he thinks any less of you, Tammy. He has lots of pictures of you, too.”

  “But he stares at her differently. When he looks at her, he’s sad, like he really misses her. Do you think she’s dead too, like Mary?”

  Esther took a seat on the bed and frowned. “What happened to Mary?”

  “I don’t know,” Tammy shrugged. “The last time I saw her was in Paris. Daddy stopped her from talking to me and they fought. She said I had a right to know, but he said that it would only hurt me and he would never allow that to happen.”

  Esther felt a cold shiver go through her. “So what did happen?”

  “I told you, I don’t know,” Tammy replied crossly. “Daddy sent her away and said we wouldn’t be seeing her again, but I saw a newspaper, just before we came home. It had Mary’s picture on the front page and it said that she was…”

  The door opened, and Esther quickly dropped the photo between her legs and closed them.

  Dylan frowned at them. “What are you two up to?”

  It was Tammy that saved them. Jumping to her feet, she marched up to him, with her hands on her hips.

  “We’re playing and there are no boys allowed, so you have to go.”

  His eyebrow arched. “Is that right? Maybe I should go down and watch your new princess movie on my own, while I’m eating all the treats I have for you.”

  Tammy beamed and hugged him tightly, turning him away from Esther. “Thank you, Daddy.”

  Esther let the photo fall to the floor where she shifted it under the bed with her foot, a second before he looked back to her. He stared at her with the slightest frown, making her heart thump.

  “Are you coming?” he asked.

  “Yes, Master, thank you.”

  His stare lingered as she stood up, but Tammy started tugging at his arm. “Let’s go, Daddy.”

  As Esther followed them out, she felt no confidence that their crime had gone undetected. As clever as Tammy’s imagination got, it didn’t pay to keep secrets from Master.

  * * * * *

  Brendan stood at the window and gazed about the hotel room with its fine furnishings, king sized bed and view of Wellington Harbour. At this time of night it was mesmerizing, staring out on lights twinkling on the hills and reflecting on calm waters in a haze of colours. Brendan imagined himself in a house with a similar view. It would be one of many dreams that he would indulge in, before the year was out.

  This was how a poor man felt after winning the lottery, knowing that everything about his life was going to change. The money for a story of this proportion had to be six figures at least, but that was just the frosting on the cake.

  Someone had once said the best revenge is massive success. Finally after fourteen years he would stare into the faces of those who had made his life a misery and killed his career. He just hadn’t expected his vindication would be so preponderant. Even now, it was hard to get his head around the implications of what he was learning. Once he had the proof he needed, every investigative media in the world would be fighting to interview him.

  It was the type of story journalists dreamt about, with scandalous drama and characters as controversial as their actions. His job was to work out the plot and how everyone was involved. There would be no releasing anything until he knew the truth of his suspicions and had the evidence to prove them. History had given him a bitter lesson about shouting out allegations without proper evidence to back them up.

  The only one who would not witness his victory was the woman who had started it all. To be able to see her broken and humiliated was the one satisfaction he’d be denied.

  The soft knock at the door made Brendan look to the time on his laptop. Precisely 8.30pm, right on time. He got up and took a quick detour into the bathroom to inspect himself in the mirror. While ruffling his dark hair into place, Brendan checked his teeth and beard for any leftovers from lunch. At thirty-eight, he was still a good catch, though he needed to work on a slight paunch of his belly from too many beers.

  Opening the door he straightened himself to his full height, while putting a smile on his face to greet his visitors.

  “Good to see you both again.”

  Adele removed her sunglasses and smiled. In a black, sleeveless dress, she looked even prettier than she had at the airport, more relaxed and confident in her body language, unlike Lance who hovered behind her, dressed in his three piece suit and rigid as a soldier on guard over her. He met Brendan’s eyes with a solid stare.

  “I trust the room is satisfactory?”

  Brendan nodded. “More than satisfactory, though I’m already on the clock and haven’t had time to enjoy it much.”

  “Speaking of time, we should continue to the dining room.”

  “I’ll fetch my notes.”

  Nothing was said as they made their way downstairs. There were only a few patrons lingering in the hotel’s restaurant when they arrived, but Brendan still requested the most isolated table. Once they had drinks and meals ordered, they were alone to talk.

  Brendan looked curiously to Lance and then to Adele. “Is everything alright?”

  Adele smiled. “Dad is getting himself anxious over this whole business. We think Dylan Tyler might be more sinister than we initially suspected, but maybe you could share your information with us first.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” Lance grumbled. “The more I know about this criminal, the quicker I can bring the law down on him and put him where he belongs.”

  Brendan sat back and his frown deepened. “I understand how you’re feeling, but you also need to understand I have an investment in this, too. I expect all information to be disclosed between us equally and…”

  “And it will be,” Adele quickly assured him. “Dad is concerned for me. You were aware of Mary Whittaker’s death in Paris.”

  Brendan stared at her. “Yes, why?”

  “Then it must have crossed your mind that your man in the car park might have been the one who murdered her. I’m surprised that you hadn’t tried to revive your initial allegations and alert the authorities to a possible connection.”

  There was a protracted pause before he replied calmly. “I’ve learnt a big lesson on shooting my mouth off, before I have something to back it up. Mary’s case was never solved and I wasn’t about to wade in on it. All it would have done is drawn media attention to me and I’d been through enough.”

  “Of course,” Adele nodded.

  Lance snorted. “It was never solved because the French government was too stubborn to accept help from us.”

  “Probably because the New Zealand media was extremely critical of their investigation,” Brendan remarked. “And everyone was throwing around conspiracy theories. The French rightly wanted to know what the head of the GCSB was doing in their country.”

  Adele looked between Brendan and her father. “So I assumed it turned into a political debacle?”

  “To say the least,” Lance smirked. “No one knew why Mary had made this side trip from London to Paris, on a taxpayer funded meeting. It was a mess, and in an election year, which meant the government wanted it tied up as soon as possible and out of the papers. I don’t believe there was any real justice done to the investigation.”

  “Much to Tyler’s satisfaction, I imagine.” Adele smiled at Brendan. “There. You have our first bit of gossip. Dad is going to follow up to see if Tyler was in France at that time. Now it’s your turn.”

  Brendan relaxed in his seat
and smiled back at her. “I don’t want to come across as suspicious…”

  “Not at all,” Adele assured him. “You’re careful and that’s an admirable quality.”

  Brendan smiled as he opened up a manila folder. He picked up a photo and slid it across the table to her. “Is that your man?”

  Adele nervously picked the photo up and gasped. “This is the one from the paper?”

  Brendan nodded. “That digital enhancing company did a great job. Now there’s nothing grainy, doctored or unclear to what’s in that photo.”

  It was a bizarre scene. Taking up most of the photo was the naked back of a skinny woman, her thin buttocks framed in a garter belt and suspenders. She was turned towards a large man towering over her, so that his head and shoulders could be seen above hers, illuminated by powerful headlights.

  There was still lack of clarity, but Adele could see a hair style that remained unchanged and a muscled broadness across broad tattooed shoulders. The face was younger and not perfectly clear, but Adele had no doubt.

  She was shaking as she passed the photo to her father, staring at Brendan. “It’s him.”

  Lance’s hand was also trembling as he studied the photo. “My god, he’s a brute. Look at the size of him compared to Mary. He had to be blackmailing her. What type of woman would give herself to that? He murdered her, didn’t he?”

  “I don’t know, but after what I saw that night, who else would it be? Ever since you rang me, I’ve been able to do a lot more research with the money you sent me, and have gone back through everything I’ve collected over the years.”

  “What have you learnt?” Adele asked.

  “Dylan Tyler is a man who doesn’t exist. According to the few records there are of him, he was born in Birmingham, England, where his passport was issued, but there is no one who can account for him. I’ve contacted every school, every hospital, every dentist, even the police stations in a five hundred mile radius and there was only one Dylan Tyler born in Birmingham in 1968, who died when he was four years old.”

  “Identity theft,” Adele nodded, turning to her father. “This is exactly what I’ve been saying.”