Sweet Revenge thriller

Chapter Twenty

ONCE BACK AT RED'S APARTMENT I get set to put my plan into action. Needless to say, the night is busy. I contact The Fixer via the dark web and then fall into bed, sound sleep within minutes and for once my usual nightmares do not play like an endless video. Instead, I am thwart with images of how my new plan will not succeed. And with each one, I awake in a sweat just as I'm either thrown from a cliff to my death, stabbed, shot at or run over by a truck hauling petroleum!

The following morning I am surprised I can function at all. I keep my appointment and visit The Fixer's warehouse. And in so doing, I am again the owner of a new identity, albeit, temporary.

I don't open the envelope until I'm safely back at Red's apartment. I pick up the I.D. and read the details. Shannon Campbell, Private Investigator for Interpol. The Fixer has used the photo which I had emailed him in the early hours of this morning wearing black rimmed glasses and a curly brown wig. The manila folder in the envelope reveals several documents which includes a fake letter of authority from the High Commissioner sanctioning an investigation into Psychiatrists in the city. When I read Patrick's name as one of the many Psychiatrists under investigation, I feel like the worst kind of traitor even though the so-called investigation is about his involvement in price fixing with other Psychiatrists.

* * *

I plan to start visiting Patrick's clients and it's paramount I get it right. Convince them I am the real deal. Undercover. Assert that Patrick has been included in the investigation primarily to clear him of any wrong doing. Questions I will ask will eliminate him from our inquiry and I will let them know ASAP of our findings that their Psychiatrist has been cleared of all wrong doing.

I shudder at what I'm about to do. If caught, I am in so much trouble. And the wrath of Patrick? Although, if he does get wind of it, he won't know it's me because I will not be Athena, I'll be Shannon Campbell. But if the police get wind of it... money won't be able to get me out of this!

Obviously I cannot visit the six people who know me, with whom I met at the 'session' Patrick arranged not long before the murders.

Starting with the less traumatic victims has me knocking on Christa's door who lives in a semi-detached in a nice suburb. She is in her fifties, well dressed and invites me in when I show her my I.D. I sit next to her and place my folder between the two of us and open it, so if she wishes she can see the letter requesting the investigation. I pretend to take in the ambience of her home muttering the odd, 'Gosh how nice,' while she skim reads the letter.

'Thank you for seeing me at such short notice,' I tell her. 'I will make this as brief as possible and I apologise for the intrusion into such a private part of your life.' I then explain the perimeters of my investigation which is only to do with price fixing but does entail me to ask some private details about her interaction with her Psychiatrist.

'I'm sure you are wasting your time,' she says.

'I agree. I have met him and he appears to be the height of honesty. I am a profiler,' I add, just because it sounds more convincing.

'So, why are you here?' she asks.

'Well, price fixing is very serious,' I answer. I then proceed to ask the questions on my list which include: Did Patrick advise you of the cost of the sessions before you started? Has he increased his fee during your time with him? Etc. I finish with, 'Interpol has been involved because Psychiatrists in other countries are suspected of price fixing. So, to the best of your knowledge, has he ever indicated to you that he has affiliations with any overseas consortiums? Maybe a Russian connection?'

'No,' she answers.

I camouflage my disappointment, although I knew I'd be pretty canny if I uncovered anything on my first client visit. 'When do you think you will be well enough to dispense with your Psychiatrist's services?'