Double Deceit

by Julienne Brouwers

  I leaned my back against the poster of the human skeleton, bearing the Latin names for each bone, which I’d received as a gift from my parents when I finished my medical studies. “That’s odd. Sandra and I discovered the papers in that archive room no too long ago.”

  “Exactly.”

  I stared out of the window through the blinds and thought back to the nightly visits that Sandra and I had made to Mason & McGant – it felt like an eternity ago. I had finally found peace and now everything was being raked up again. Every part of me was screaming, I don’t want this. I’d had enough of the tension and the restlessness – I wanted to get on and just live my life.

  Dan interrupted my thoughts. “You told me that morning that you’d copied the file. Can you tell me again what exactly it contained?”

  I told Dan how, after our date, I’d reviewed the papers Sandra had shared with me and that they revealed more details about the evidence of the four cases.

  “So there were four case file numbers listed?” Dan asked.

  I took my handbag and started rummaging through it until I realised I’d of course left the papers with Detective Armstrong. I did have a copy safely stored at home – it had felt too definite to dispose of them. “I believe the numbers all started with a year, followed by a five-digit code,” I added hesitantly.

  “That does sound like our file number structure. It’s not much Oliver left us to work with, but it should give us a good starting point,” Dan said, sounding excited. “I think it would make sense for us to meet up and comb through those documents together. These types of files are right up my alley so I can probably extract more information from them.”

  I dropped onto my chair again and rested my head on my hands – I was afraid of getting dragged in, feeling again like I was out of my depth, but there wasn’t really another option. I sat up and gave in. “All right, then.”

  He made a proposal. “How about we meet at Mason & McGant and look for those four case numbers in the system? I’m hoping we may uncover details in them that will throw light on the notes in the Van Santen file.”

  “Ohhhh,” I moaned. “I’m not exactly keen on sneaking back in there for a third time.”

  “This time we’ll do things by the book. I’ll register you in our system to have an official visitor’s pass created for you. We’ll just act like it’s a business meeting.”

  I gave it a thought and concluded it ought to be safe.

  “When would be a convenient moment for you to come over?” Dan asked.

  I took a seat behind my PC and searched my schedule for a gap. “How about four o’clock tomorrow afternoon?”

  “Okay, see you tomorrow,” I said and hung up.

  I checked the time and concluded that my lunch break was nearly over. I unlocked the door, dashed out and almost ran straight into Hans. “Hello stranger, do you still work here? Must have been an important call to miss lunch – again,” he said jokingly, but his voice told me he was a bit upset. “I came to see if you were still alive,” he added, which made me realise I wasn’t the only one who’d been rattled by the incident with the tile.

  “Sorry, Hans. It was my Mum – some problem at her volunteer job. Ever since my parents retired, it seems like they have a different sense of time,” I said and rolled my eyes excessively, but I could feel my hands trembling.

  He accepted my apology and together we walked to our lunchroom where Simone, wearing ear buds, was listening to music on her phone. “It looks like I wasn’t the only one who was being antisocial,” I whispered to Hans and gave him a wink.

  He smiled. “Don’t forget to eat,” he said, indicating my sandwich.

  I nodded and quickly took a bite when something came to my mind. I tapped Simone gently on the shoulder – she removed an ear bud and looked questioningly at me.

  “Can you keep my schedule empty after half past three tomorrow afternoon?”

  She shrugged. “Sure.”

  Hans looked at me with a scrutinising look on his face. “Other plans?”

  “Appointment at the dentist,” I lied. “Completely forgot about it.”

  He narrowed his eyes and turned up the heat. “Check-up or cavity?”

  “The first,” I croaked, feeling sweat collect in my armpits. I’d had my fill of lying and scheming and longed for all this secrecy to be over.

  I nodded at the clock that hung above the lunch table. “Time to get back to work.”

  29

  I was running late for my appointment with Dan and decided to park my bike south of the train station, which was at the heart of the financial district. I looked around a few times to make sure no one was following me before crossing through the station en route to Mason & McGant.

  My phone beeped – it was a message from Dan.

  ‘Five minutes late. Wait for me at the entrance.’

  I slowed down my pace and ambled along on this Friday afternoon, weaving through the shifting sea of people rushing to get out of the city and eager to start their weekend. Once through the station, I walked across the square flanked by lofty glass buildings reflecting the glorious afternoon sun. Here and there folks were seated and chatting on stone benches with a glass of wine in their hands, sheltered under the fragrant blossoming hawthorns. I passed several bars where the atmosphere was relaxed and jovial ahead of the weekend – men with unbuttoned shirts and loosened ties, women untying their buns and shaking their hair free. The well-known TGIF drink formed an essential part of the lawyer’s scene, where paralegals in particular, after a week of going above and beyond, bunked off early and relieved some of the stress with Mojito’s and Heinekens. The buzzing pre-weekend vibe made me crave a drink as well, but that had to wait for now.

  I felt a hand gently touch my shoulder and turned around – Dan’s dapper appearance immediately instilled a flash of desire in me, knocking the air from my lungs.

  He seemed oblivious to my internal reaction and just said, “Hi Jennifer.”

  I waved my hand awkwardly and then tucked it into the pocket of my coat. The other one rested on my handbag containing the file, which I guarded as if I were a money courier, about to top up a cash machine.

  Dan was dressed in a three-piece suit, his hair tightly combed back in a side parting, using substantial amounts of hair gel to keep his natural curl under control. “Sorry I’m a tad late. I just came back from court.”

  “No problem.” My eyes shifted nervously towards the Mason & McGant building. “Shall we?”

  We walked silently towards the entrance and passed through the revolving doors. I followed Dan to the reception and thought back to the previous two times when I’d been eager to get in as quickly as possible. On the outside I was calm, but inside my heart was racing.

  After receiving my visitor pass we took the lift – the tension was almost tangible in the air. From the corner of my eye I noticed Dan secretly glancing at me. I felt a powerful barrage of emotions surge through me.

  “My room is across the hallway,” Dan said as we stepped out of the lift. He opened the glass door, which gave access to his spacious office. In the left corner was an oval, wooden meeting table with matching leather seats; his desk was up against the window overlooking the square.

  Dan closed the door behind me, wheeled one of the leather chairs over and somewhat uncomfortably, we both took a seat behind his desk.

  I plucked the papers out of my bag and handed them to him. “These are the documents.”

  Dan flicked through them. “Perfect. These should give us a good starting point,” he said perkily and handed them back to me.

  As Dan operated the mouse on his computer, his arm gently brushed against mine and I could feel the electricity from his touch shooting up and down my back. I flinched away, keeping my arms tightly in my lap, and kept my eyes fixated on the computer screen, while we waited for the system to start up.

  Dan turned his head to me and spoke softly. “I’m truly sorry for not believing you that morning Jennifer.”
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  I lowered my eyes.

  Dan carried on speaking. “Those allegations against our firm all sounded so implausible that I just couldn’t wrap my head around it. I’ve been working here for many years now and have never even so much as heard a rumour. I recognise this is not by any means an excuse for my behaviour, but …” He didn’t finish his sentence.

  I nodded, still avoiding eye contact.

  “Can you please give me another chance?”

  I looked up at those big brown eyes of his full of remorse, and responded in a soft voice. “Sure, it’s okay.” Our faces were so close I could feel his warm breath on my lips. “I understand. You barely knew me and here I am sharing these strange and twisted accusations with you. No wonder you thought I was crazy.”

  “But I shouldn’t have shoved you out of the door like that,” he said.

  I gave a crooked smile. “Not your finest hour.”

  He laughed, which made him even more irresistible and I felt a rush of heat run through me. I gave myself a stern talking to, stay focused Jennifer. “I’m just happy we’re on the same page now. Let’s get started, okay?”

  He nodded and then turned to his PC. “The programme has started. Do you have a case number for me?”

  I thumbed through the papers to get to the overview that Oliver had made and began to read aloud the digits from the first file.

  Dan entered the numbers in the tab – a unique match with the title ‘Van Brandt’ came up, which had a classified status and a report attached to it.

  Dan bit the inside of his cheek as he kept the cursor hovering over the file.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  He looked up and rubbed his chin. “Since the Data Protection Act has been implemented, Mason & McGant keeps a record of everyone who opens a document in our system.”

  “Are you saying that if we open the report, they can trace back who viewed it?”

  Dan nodded. “This isn’t a client of mine so I have no legitimate reason to browse the file.”

  I thought for a moment. “We have no choice but to take the risk. We need to get more information.”

  Dan nodded and clicked on the file, after which a report opened, showing a synopsis of the case.

  I waited with bated breath, while Dan’s eyes flew across the legal document. “Do you see anything unusual?” I asked.

  He summed up the case while still reading. “I don’t see anything out of the ordinary. A man named Van Brandt received legal counselling by our firm when he was accused of rape. The only thing that strikes me is that initially, there seemed to be a match between DNA traces found on the victim and the DNA of the suspect. After further analysis, however, the forensic sample turned out to be of such a poor quality that it couldn’t be used in the case. That means, it was impossible to narrow down the suspect to near hundred percent certainty. The man was acquitted of the rape charge.”

  “Is that unusual?”

  “It doesn’t happen often. But it’s possible.”

  “Hi Dan,” someone shouted behind us.

  Dan clicked the document away in a flurry. I jerked my head around and tried to block the view of the computer screen with my body.

  A young man in his early twenties lolled in the doorway and looked familiar to me. “We’re heading off for drinks at ‘Fiesta’. Are you joining us?” Behind him there was the sound of a group of people, presumably waiting in the hallway to leave the office, their voices excited and cheerful.

  “I’m still working on something,” Dan mumbled matter-of-factly, but I noticed his cheeks were flushing. “I might join you guys later.”

  “Don’t stay too long, we’ve been cooped up all week.” Suddenly the young man’s eyes grew large. He pointed his finger at me. “Aren’t you Oliver’s wife, Oliver Smits? What a coincidence. What brings you here?”

  Then it suddenly came back to me – he was one of the paralegals Oliver had been supervising.

  My heart was pounding in my chest. “I, er …” I stammered, as I felt my face turn deep red.

  Dan laid a hand on my arm. “Jennifer and I used to go to high school together. I’m doing her a favour by defending her at the small claims court,” he said quickly. “Some jerk scraped her car and drove off.”

  “I see.” He suddenly seemed to recollect Oliver’s fate as a look of compassion spread across his face. “How are you doing now?”

  “I’m all right, thanks,” I responded.

  “Good thing you wrote down his license plate number, right?” Dan said.

  “What?” I mumbled blankly. “Oh right, yes.”

  One of the colleagues in the hallway tugged the man’s sleeve.

  “I have to go,” he shouted, now jolly, and raised his hand. “Later.”

  When he’d loped out the room, I breathed a sigh of relief. “This is killing me. We need to be careful, Dan.”

  He nodded. “Let’s swiftly look up all four files, print them out and go somewhere quiet to examine them.”

  We typed in the numbers one by one, after which Dan sent them to his printer.

  “All right, this should be enough for now,” he finally said, sliding the papers into his brown, leather briefcase. Dan rose from his chair and slid his arms into his jacket. “C’mon. Let’s vamoose.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s half past five. How about we sift through the files over dinner at some restaurant?”

  I wanted nothing more than to say yes, but I knew Tim would be anxiously waiting for me. “I need to pick up my son from day-care.”

  Dan nodded. “Of course.”

  I thought for a moment – it was imperative we got through these files as soon as possible. “You could come over to my place tonight when Tim is in bed?” It felt rather intimate to invite Dan into my house, but there weren’t many alternatives and I didn’t want to postpone discussing the contents of these papers.

  “I can’t arrange a babysitter for him at the last minute,” I clarified and dipped my head, too embarrassed to maintain eye contact. I didn’t want him to think I had another agenda after our humiliating date.

  “Fair enough,” he said, and I believed I noticed a stifled grin on his face.

  He wrote down my address and we agreed he’d be at my place around eight.

  30

  The bell rang. I slipped my feet into my high heels while nervously smoothing the fabric of the dress I’d changed into, checked my make-up in the mirror and rushed to the door. I’d spruced myself up as I wanted to make sure Dan knew what a catch he’d passed up on.

  I opened the door and the light from the hallway spilled out into the dark night, illuminating Dan’s face with a warm glow. His coat was casually open, and he’d exchanged the three-piece suit he was wearing this afternoon for tight jeans and a green polo. His gaze dropped as he took in my appearance. “You look stunning.”

  I whispered. “Quickly, come inside.” Before I closed the door, I glanced in both directions down the street – I had this ever-present uncanny feeling that I was being watched – but saw nothing or no one out of the ordinary. I put a finger to my lips and pointed upstairs towards Tim’s bedroom. He got the hint and quietly took off his coat, then followed me into the living room. “Nice place you have here.”

  “Thank you,” I said, smiling, and indicated at the dining table. “Have a seat.”

  Dan lowered himself onto one of the fabric chairs, while I walked towards the kitchen.

  ‘What can I get you? Coffee, tea?”

  “How about a glass of wine?” Dan suggested.

  I’d resolved not to drink any alcohol tonight – I couldn’t trust myself around that man – but I didn’t want to spoil the mood. “Sure, does white sound okay?”

  Dan smiled. ‘Sounds perfect.” He gently slid the crystal vase containing flowers to one side and spread out the four reports that we’d printed out this afternoon over the table.

  I took a wine bottle from the built-in wine fridge with a tinted glass door, which Oliver had insisted on buying w
hen we’d had our new kitchen installed. I took two wine glasses from the cupboard and checked if the baby monitor was turned on. My eyes fell on the neighbour, nosily peering into my living room from a third floor window in the house behind mine, instigating a feeling of uneasiness. Other than the city lights, it was now pitch black outside and I decided to close the curtains.

  “Here you are,” I said, and slid the glass of Pinot Grigio, which Oliver’s mother had brought back from France last year, towards Dan. I pulled out the seat opposite Dan, but before I could sit down he suggested, “I think it would be better if you sit here. Otherwise it’s difficult for us both to read the papers.”

  I smiled and walked calmly to the other side of the table, although inside I felt flustered – whenever I got too close to that man my toes would clench and my chest would start to tighten.

  As I plopped down onto the chair next to him, a faint whiff of his familiar scent reached my nostrils, bringing back memories of the lingering kiss we’d shared. I pressed the back of my hand to my nose, trying hard to concentrate.

  “Since we …” Dan started, until he noticed me guzzle half of the wine in my glass, in an attempt to control my nerves. “ Is everything all right?” he inquired, looking surprised.

  I nodded my head and gave him a reassuring smile, my hand waving in the air. “Sure, I’m fine.”

  Dan shook his head ever so slightly, the puzzled look still on his face, and then continued. “So, since we left the office I’ve buried myself in these files. I’m slowly getting an idea of what’s been going on. In all four cases your husband documented, the suspects were acquitted. On all other aspects of these cases, however, there are substantial variations.” Dan laid his hand on a stack of papers in front of me and tapped it. “This case is about a batch of cocaine that was found in a hangar in 2017, for which a guy name Santos was charged. The next case involved a robbery-homicide on a jeweller in 2018, in which a man named Casimir was a suspect. Later that year there was another case identified as De Mees, involving a dismantled drugs lab. And lastly, we have the rape story from last year, which we discussed earlier this afternoon.” Dan drank a mouthful of his wine, ruffling his hair with his hand to remove it from his face. “At first I didn’t see the shared characteristic between all of these cases – we’re dealing with various types of offenses and suspects, spread over several years, and the crime scene locations were different. But I knew from Oliver’s overview that there had to be something wrong with the evidence – there had to be a common denominator I was overlooking.”