Chapter Seven
Victor Freeman returned from an absence of six weeks; longer than he had thought, but then again he had thought that his younger sister's heart operation would have been successful. They had waited at his country home for two weeks for the operation, and then she had died on the operating table. As her only relative he had to bury her and sort out her estate.
Then he was on a mission for two weeks a long way from Britain and when he returned he was exhausted and depressed. He did not feel like meeting anyone and kept himself to himself for another two weeks at the house.
Then with a guilty start one morning he realised he had not contacted Susan and wondered if she had needed his help. He returned to the flats and immediately went into the concierge's office and checked the equipment. There was no tape for the top floor and the unit for that floor was off. He realised that she was saving money -- after all, the units on the lower floors would have picked up any intruder.
He remembered that he had said in his note that he would contact her when he returned, so he locked the office and rang the doorbell of her flat. There was a long pause and he thought she must be out on her rounds. Then the door opened.
A man stood in the doorway. He had clearly just awoken and he did not look happy. His blond hair was mussed up and his blue eyes were bloodshot. He was a good deal younger and somewhat taller than Victor, and while a good looking man, was out of condition. Too much booze and late nights, thought Victor.
"What do you want?" growled the man.
"I'm Victor Freeman from the top floor. Is Susan in?"
"No."
"Would you give her a message, please?"
"I don't know. What is it?"
"Just tell her that I'm back if she needs me for anything, and that she can resume cleaning the flat whenever she's ready."
Victor could tell the man was unhappy and that he did not like Victor. Victor had long experience of reading people's faces and body language in the army, and he also know how to conceal his own feelings behind a bland face and smile. There had been times when his life depended on both abilities. Finally he instinctively knew an enemy when he saw one, and this man was an enemy. He gave no sign that he knew.
"Well, mate," the man said truculently, "I'm with her now and she don't need your 'help' any more. She told me all about you and I don't like other men trying to get into my girlfriend's pants. So I'd be
dreadfully
grateful if you'd keep away from her. Otherwise you'll find life gets uncomfortable. Get me?"
Victor looked at the man. He seethed inside with anger at the man's attitude and assessment of his motives in helping Susan, but his face betrayed none of it. The man did not know how uncomfortable
this man
would be if he tangled with Victor.
"You'll be Seth?"
"Yep! And you can get yourself another cleaner as well. She doesn't need to demean herself doing your cleaning, just so you can perv her body. Now get lost."
Victor remained calm. The man would suffer for this, but in Victor's own time. Victor turned on his heel and the door slammed behind him. He returned to the office and took the tape that had recorded the conversation, replacing it with a blank. He did not go to the flat but left the building.
He was very angry. He called at his favourite coffee shop and ordered a coffee, then sat to think things out. He'd longed to talk with Susan and share his distress and bereavement. She was one of the few people he could have been really open with, at least the only one close enough to talk with face to face. Then to be insulted by this arrogant young man, to be told that his only motive was sexual and predatory, this was insufferable.
Susan had told him all about this man and his callous disregard for Susan and his own children -- his abandonment of her, and the possible consequences of his actions for her and their children.
Indeed it had been Victor who had averted those consequences. Now she had taken the wastrel back and here he was being the macho man protecting 'his' woman! Well, she was welcome to him. However he would make sure there would be consequences. He rang George Corrigan from his mobile.
"George," he said after the pleasantries were over and George's commiserations over Victor's sister's death were completed. "There is a visitor's clause in Susan's flat contract?"
George consulted his files. "Yes. Maximum visit two weeks. Wouldn't be a problem if she were paying, but it's a condition of being rent free."
"OK," said Victor. "You should know two things. One. She's got a visitor. From the looks of things he's been there for longer than that. I want you to call her in and tell her he has to go, or she has to leave the flat herself."
"He?" George had picked up the gender of the visitor. "You're jealous Victor! Well, I can't blame you."
"Yes, it's a 'he', and the 'he' he is, is Seth Grimshaw. Ring any bells?"
"Oh, yes. He owes us some money."
"I doubt we'll get that back, though it's worth trying, but he was insulting when I called and made insinuations I can't tolerate. I've got the conversation on tape, and I'll drop it in at your office. I don't want it cluttering up my baggage. You may need it when you talk to Susan."
"You realise that it puts Susan in a delicate position," George commented, "As an employee, she should have reported his presence."
"Go easy on her George. She has a right to get back with the toerag; the kids are his after all, but I want him out. It's personal between him and me -- nothing to do with her. If she wants to go as well, fine, but try to keep her working for us -- she's invaluable. We'd need a concierge, but she can find one. She has a talent for spotting quality."
"Enough said." George disconnected. Victor smiled. It was not a pleasant or a happy smile.
He realised very quickly that his purpose in returning -- to talk with Susan -- was not now going to happen, and on the spur of the moment he decided he needed a holiday. The Highlands of Scotland would clear his head and heal his heart.
