The Swindler

SIX

The next afternoon, I was feeling much better. Ernest and I were in my office, back at my house, pouring over files. After having looked everything over three times, we were still no closer to finding the culprit.

"Tea?" I asked, trying to lighten the depressed mood.

"No," Ernest said. "Something stronger."

"A Scotch then?"

"Sure. What do you have?"

I winked and disappeared into the kitchen. From my spirits rack, I pulled out a Limited Edition Glenkinchie that had been aged for fifteen years. I poured an equal four fluid ounces into two highball glasses and returned to the office. As I quietly approached, I heard the rustling of papers. Looking in, I saw Ernest going through my things.

Coldly, I asked, "Find anything?"

He straightened and turned around before holding his hands up.

Placatingly, he said, "I have my orders, as do you."

"So you're tasked with checking on me. I told you, I'm not the one doing this."

Hurt and betrayal flashed across my features. Sadness filled my eyes.

"I guess I don't blame you," I began quietly. "I wouldn't trust me either, knowing my life's work is to lie."

I set the two glasses of Scotch down.

"Vivienne..." Ernest began as he started forwards and reached out towards me.

I took a step back and swallowed. "There's a safe behind the Rembrandt. The password is one, seven, zero, six, one, four."

Before he could say anymore, I turned and walked away. Near the front door, I grabbed my purse and sunglasses before exiting my house.

Outside, I hailed a taxi. One soon pulled up, and I climbed in the back.

"Where to, miss?"

I gave him an address. He started the metre and nudged out into the street. Even though it was mid-afternoon, traffic was already heavy.

It's a Friday. People could be getting off work early.

When the cabbie finally pulled up in front of the address, I paid and stepped out. As he drove off, I looked up and took a deep breath in.

I approached the front steps and knocked on the door. Gerard opened the door.

"Take me to Mr Pemberton. I have important matters to discuss with him."

The door opened further, and I stepped inside. He led me over to the study. I opened the door and noticed Theodore was sitting at his desk.

"Gerard, I thought I said don't bother me."

In a monotone, I answered, "Well, I'm not Gerard."

He looked up and smiled. "Ahh, Miss Pritchard, come in, come in."

I sat down across from him and set my purse down next to me on the side table.

"What can I do for you, Miss Pritchard?"

"Why did you drug my wine?"

Theodore looked at me. "Now, that's an accusation. You come here and accuse me of things when I've been nothing but hospitable to you."

"When you were at my house the other day, why did you drug my wine?"

"I did no such thing. I suggest you look to that Arab."