Double Deceit

by Julienne Brouwers

  “We tried that. My niece gave me the number of a counsellor who was apparently specialised in this area, but after three sessions, my husband threw in the towel. He thinks we should solve the matter just between the two of us, but that’s never going to happen.” She straightened her back. “It’s okay. I’ve come to terms with it now. I’m ready for the next step in my life. Who knows what, or who, will cross my path,” she said, arching her eyebrows with a salacious smile.

  It made me think of the workouts with her personal trainer she’d told me about and I imagined how she’d do all kinds of exercises in a tight outfit. I laughed.

  A surprised expression flashed across her face, and I dropped my smile to look serious once more. Sandra continued. “Ah well. Sometimes life throws you a curveball and things turn out to be different to what you expected.”

  The question was burning a hole in the back of my mind. “Would you have wanted to carry on your affair with Oliver?”

  She looked at me in surprise. “Oliver? No,” she guffawed and threw her head back. “No,” she said again, this time with determination. “Oliver was a nice guy. He made me realise in what an awful state my marriage was and I’m grateful for that. But it was nothing more than an innocent fling.”

  Perhaps for you it was, I thought cynically, but that so-called innocent fling had destroyed my marriage.

  She looked me in the eye. “Also to Oliver it didn’t mean anything. I‘m sure of it. He may have had secrets and of course he’s made mistakes, a lot of mistakes. I’m not denying that. But he did love you. He once told me that his family meant everything to him, I could tell he was being sincere.”

  I felt tears filling my eyes. Did he really say that to her? If this affair had really meant nothing to him, why would he have put everything at stake? I just wanted to punch him for being such a fool.

  Something came to my mind. “I thought you weren’t aware of Oliver being married?”

  She took a bite from her bagel and chewed mechanically. “Let’s talk about the films we found.”

  I considered interrogating her, but decided it didn’t matter anymore. “What are your thoughts about them?”

  “I find it very coincidental that those paralegals are all captured in these compromising images.”

  I nodded. “They’ve definitely taken a methodical approach. The videos weren’t just filmed at random, the cameraman has ensured that all relevant events were captured razor-sharp. But why would he or she have done that? And who gave the order for this?”

  Sandra was tapping the table with her nails. “I wonder if the footage was used to blackmail the lawyers.”

  The thought had occurred to me as well. “But why? And what exactly would they have wanted to blackmail those lawyers with? Perhaps it wasn’t so much blackmail, but actually making sure they keep their mouths shut.”

  “Presumably, those DVDs were intentionally placed in their offices, as a permanent warning, to make sure no one would grass on the firm. As if to say ‘We’re watching you’. I wonder if there’s somehow a connection with the Van Santen file.”

  I agreed with her reasoning, yet at the same time it seemed farfetched. “In the file, it looks like Oliver was trying to identify something that was going on internally and make an outline of it.”

  “Something that shouldn’t be shared with the outside world, otherwise he wouldn’t have used those codes to record the information. But what exactly?” Sandra asked.

  I felt light-headed – I’d been up for hours and hadn’t eaten anything.

  My brain felt like it was wired with electricity and, as a result, my thoughts were racing a million miles an hour. “There were various client names and colleagues mentioned in the file. Perhaps he was drawing up an overview of all cases at Mason & McGant involving blackmail?”

  She bit her thumb. “I think we might be on to something here.”

  “Oliver had uncovered evidence of illegal activity at the firm. Maybe he was planning to let the cat out of the bag?”

  Sandra nodded. “Very possible. They couldn’t allow that to happen at Mason & McGant, because there was too much at stake. They had to obliterate all liabilities,” she added, which made sense although I didn’t know who she meant by ‘them’. “In all likelihood, there must have been a great deal of money involved.”

  I was suddenly aware of the people around us who were eating their breakfast, who might overhear. I leaned forward and started whispering. “Do you think they killed Oliver?” As soon as I’d spoken the words, I realised how ridiculous the suggestion sounded.

  Sandra bit her lip. “Perhaps,” she responded and I didn’t know whether to be relieved that I wasn’t losing my marbles or to be in utter shock.

  I sat up straight. “Come on,” I exclaimed. “Are you serious? Things like that,” I said euphemistically, “happen in movies. Not in real life, not at a professional, honourable law firm.”

  I saw a nerve twitching in Sandra’s right eye. “It’s obvious that things are taking place at that law firm that are far from honourable. It seems to me that those images are proof of that.” She shook her head. “We’re treading on thin ice, Jennifer. We might be better off not sticking our nose in this anymore. I think it would be wise if you go to the police.”

  I could see where she was coming from, but there was a flaw in her reasoning. “We have no proof whatsoever to show them. We haven’t taken or copied those recordings, remember?” It dawned on me that I should have taken a video with my phone while the DVDs were playing. I had been in such a state of shock that I hadn’t thought of it.

  “You could tell them about the videos and show them the copies of the file we made last time we went to Mason & McGant. Maybe they can make some sense out of it. Who knows, it might be enough to get a search warrant,” she suggested.

  I pictured the scene in my head: ‘Mr Policeman, illegal practices are taking place at Mason & McGant’. “I’ll think about it,” I said flatly, but it sounded like a worthless plan.

  Sandra glanced at her watch and suddenly sounded rushed. “Shit. I have to go.” She got up and started putting on her coat.

  “So what now? What should our next move be?” I asked.

  There was a determined look in her eyes. “There’s no next move. I don’t ever want to set foot in that firm again. We’ve opened a can of worms. As I said, you need to turn it over to the police. That’s what those people are for. I’m washing my hands of this.”

  I understood her point of view, but surely she had to acknowledge that I’d never be able to solve this on my own. “I need your help, Sandra,” I said reluctantly. “You can’t leave it at this.”

  She gulped her coffee and slammed the cup on the tray. “Sorry, Jennifer. I’m drawing a line in the sand. I’ve got other issues at home that need taking care of.”

  I slowly released my breath. “I understand. Take care. Many thanks for your efforts.”

  16

  “Good morning,” I called out breezily to Simone as I walked into the practice. Simone looked up from her computer behind the reception desk and smiled. “Good morning.”

  I entered the small administration office, rubbing my hands together. It had unexpectedly frozen last night and I’d forgotten to wear gloves on my bike. My hands were red raw from the cold.

  “Best wishes for the new year,” I said, when Simone got up from her chair and gave me a hug.

  “To you as well,” she responded good-humouredly and sat down on her chair. “Ready to get back to work?”

  “Yes, I’m right as rain again,” I quipped. The past few weeks had done me good. I’d extended my time off by an extra week so that I didn’t have to work over the Christmas holidays, which thankfully I’d survived and were now behind me. Hans didn’t mind manning the practice at this time of year, and it was generally quieter than normal, making it a piece of cake for him.

  “Wonderful,” Simone responded, focusing on her work again.

  I thought back to our last interac
tion a few weeks ago and was overcome by a feeling of shame. The poor girl had only started working here recently and had already been barked at by her boss. “Simone,” I said in a muffled voice, as I didn’t want any patients in the waiting room to overhear our conversation. “I’d like to offer an apology for the way I acted last time I was here. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that, it was very unkind and unprofessional.”

  She looked at me with a friendly expression that made me feel even more guilty. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve got a lot on your plate right now. I can imagine sometimes it all becomes too much,” she reasoned.

  I solemnly pledged not to let it happen again.

  We were interrupted by an elderly patient who came up to the counter. “Excuse me, how much longer do I need to wait? I have an appointment with Doctor Nolten and have been waiting for nearly half an hour.” Hans usually took on the early consultations and was apparently running late.

  Simone glanced at her computer. “You had an appointment at ten to eight. That was only fifteen minutes ago, sir,” she said. “You’ll have to be patient with us, I’m afraid. Please have a seat. The doctor will be with you shortly.” Her firm attitude pleased me.

  I stealthily glanced at the waiting room, which was packed with people.

  “I need to hurry up before we rile any more patients,” I said and winked at Simone.

  She gave me a thumbs up.

  I entered my office, switched on the lights, turned on the radiator, and started up my computer. My schedule was fully booked with consultations for the next few hours, followed by three home visits in the area.

  By the end of the morning, Hans and went out for lunch so that we could catch up, which deviated from our usual routine of eating at the practice. Hans was the kind of person who had never been at the forefront of my life, but nevertheless formed a stable pillar in my existence, something I was in dire need of at the moment.

  “Are you feeling better?” Hans asked as he ambled beside me, towards a Turkish sandwich cafe nearby, where they had a large range of lunch options. The air had the humid expectation of a shower, but it wasn’t raining for the time being.

  “I guess so,” I responded. I still didn’t feel quite like myself, but certainly small steps had been made. Perhaps I’d never completely feel like the old Jennifer again, but that was okay.

  “It’s actually quite nice to get out,” Hans said as we entered the cafe. “We should do this more often.”

  I ordered a sandwich and a bottle of still water, and then chose a spot by the window. We were surrounded by a mixture of business people out for lunch, and locals from the community.

  The place was plainly furnished with plastic tables and chairs that resembled garden furniture, but the owner’s friendliness was genuine and endless, and the sandwiches excellent.

  “So how have you been doing?” Hans asked, looking up at me with his pale green eyes. I noticed his messy, black hair was showing streaks of grey at his temples. The well-worn blue cable jumper, which looked like it had been knitted by his mother years ago, was hanging loosely around his waist.

  “I’m okay,” I answered.

  He quietly chewed his sandwich and looked at me expectantly.

  I felt somewhat uncomfortable with the silence, which was probably a deliberate tactic on his part to make me speak. I caved. “It felt good to be working this morning. I have the impression that I can behave again,” I tried to joke.

  Hans smiled graciously. “Good. Have you been able to relax a bit and spend some quality time with Tim?”

  I thought back on the two night-time visits to Mason & McGant and snooping through the Van Santen file, and wondered if in all honesty I could call this relaxing. “Mwah, just a tad,” I said and suddenly found I couldn’t look him in the eye.

  He seemed to accept my answer, which left me with a feeling of guilt. We’d known each other for so long that it felt wrong I was keeping him at arm’s length.

  “Care for a refill?” he asked, holding the bottle of water over my cup, which was still half full.

  I thanked him, after which he emptied the bottle into his own cup. It fell silent again, and I felt a knot forming in my stomach. The sandwich didn’t sit too well. Suddenly I wished we’d opted for lunch in our own practice, where I could have been comforted by familiar surroundings.

  “Jennifer, you don’t have to confide in me,” Hans interrupted my thoughts. “It’s okay. Just know that I’ll always be there for you if …”

  “I do want to confide in you,” I blurted. I inhaled deeply and let the air run out of my lungs with a lot of noise. I placed my sandwich on the recycled, brown cardboard plate in front of me. “I just don’t know where to start,” I said, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. Hans wasn’t up to speed on anything yet. Oliver’s affair, the red lace knickers found on his body, the puzzling suspicions regarding Mason & McGant. “I feel so confused.”

  He gave me an encouraging nod.

  “My thoughts are mixed up all the time. There seems to be little improvement, even though it’s been a few months now.” I shook my head. “I’d expected to get some sort of structure back in my mind. Am I making any sense?”

  Hans nodded and swallowed his chunk of bread. “Sure, but perhaps you’re demanding too much of yourself, so soon after Oliver’s death. I think it’s quite normal for you to be completely lost in the first year when a loved one has died,” he said compassionately. “The ground has been swept away from beneath your feet. All the more because his death was unexpected. The love of your life, the father of your child, is suddenly gone,” Hans summed up aptly.

  I looked past him, outside to where a tram trundled past and felt tears welling up.

  “Sadness is a very strong emotion,” came Hans’ voice.

  “It’s not just sadness,” I said softly. “If only it were. At least I’d know how to feel. But my feelings entail so much more. I’m angry and harbour resentment towards Oliver. I’ve been blatantly lied to.”

  Hans looked at me puzzled. “What are you talking about?”

  I turned my head away. Entrusting my friends with the details about Sandra had been pretty easy as I’d always shared the ups and downs with them. Here in this work setting, however, it felt like failure to admit that my marriage wasn’t what it had seemed to the outside world, even though I considered Hans a friend. I glanced around and lowered my voice, “I found out Oliver was having an affair just before his death.”

  Hans’ expression didn’t change, he just laid his hand on my arm and patted it. “How awful.”

  “The liaison allegedly wasn’t a big deal. That is, according to his mistress. I met her.” I made a silly face. “You must be thinking, why on earth did I go and find her?”

  He said nothing but raised his eyebrows.

  I continued my story without waiting for an answer and explained what Sandra had told me. Hans listened intently to everything I said.

  “I wonder if our whole relationship was built on sand. It feels like the ultimate betrayal – seeing someone on the side and then sneaking off forever, leaving me stranded and without the ability to confront him,” I said as if he’d run away instead of died. But it was the best way to describe how I was feeling.

  Hans nodded.

  I clenched my fists as I spoke. “It’s only now that I realise how furious I am with him,” I said in a raised voice. “He had no right to be messing around with another woman, while I’m left facing the reality of raising our son on my own.”

  My voice broke with emotion and I felt tears welling up. From the corner of my eye I noticed the people at the table next to us had paused their conversation for a moment and were gaping at me.

  “Oh dear,” Hans breathed with an air of awkwardness.

  I was mortified and quickly wiped away the tears. “I’m okay. Really,” I added, though I wasn’t particularly convincing. “To be frank, times are tough – I feel like I’m spinning plates. I hardly have a moment’s rest, now that I’m do
ing everything on my own. I don’t sleep well and during the day there’s either work or Tim to attend to. I’ve become a couch potato in the evening due to exhaustion. There’s hardly any time left for me.”

  He nodded. “I don’t want to justify Oliver’s behaviour. He arguably made poor choices and what he did was wrong. But every relationship has its blips. From what I just heard, the affair didn’t mean anything. There isn’t a doubt in my mind, he would have eventually come to his senses and realised what he was doing was wrong, and would have ended the relationship. It’s very unfortunate he didn’t get the chance. I wouldn’t draw any firm conclusions about your marriage as a whole.”

  I pressed my knuckles against my teeth trying to hold back the tears and only managed to mumble something incoherently.

  “You might not expect it, but Nathalie and I also had a rough time in the past.”

  I was nonplussed – I couldn’t ever picture Hans having an extramarital sweetheart. The thought of my colleague, with his sizeable belly and the silly outfits dating from a previous decade, chasing ladies, made me laugh out loud.

  “What’s so funny?” Hans asked in surprise.

  I shook my head and looked down. I didn’t want to give him the feeling that I was making fun of him, although a good laugh did help me to release some of the tension. I took a bite of my sandwich. “I just didn’t see that coming. When?”

  “Over eight years ago, before I knew you. We survived the hard days with Sofia and Marcus being young, but appeared to have lost each other somewhere in the process of changing nappies and nights of broken sleep. I was an absolute pest to live with at the time and we were this close to getting a divorce.”

  “Blimey, I had no idea,” I said, but I could imagine. In our case, the many weeks of Tim’s crying when he was a baby had left considerable scars on our marriage.

  He took a sip of water. “It was a long time ago. These things are easily forgotten with time. My point is that if Oliver hadn’t died, he’d have redeemed himself and your relationship would probably have survived. It would have been a mere stain on your marriage, which would have been smoothed over after a while.”