| |
Jayne’s visit had helped Louise. Jayne was as solid as a rock. Her matter-of-fact acceptance of the date rape helped Louise feel as if she was not the only stupid woman in the world. Jayne was the only person she could talk freely to at this point in time.
She could not speak so openly to the other person who knew her story, Father Larkin. Louise was guarded whenever she spoke to Father Larkin, because although she had confided in him and told him what had happened at the party, he was a priest and a man who could be comforting but could not really understand the devastating loss of identity, the sense of helplessness, the feeling that she could be raped by any man she met.
Any man except for Nigel. He was a special case, like a brother would be.
The events of the party had also been a time of emotional upheaval for Nigel. He was sickened by his part in what he assumed was Larcombe’s taking advantage of Louise. He had known Louise Moore at primary school, but when he was in ninth grade, Nigel’s parents sent him to Christchurch to a boarding school. He then studied architecture in Auckland, during which time he heard that Louise had married.
On his return, Nigel met her as Louise Ricciardello at tennis tournaments, at the swimming pool and at social gatherings. After the split, Nigel felt disappointed in Ricky Ricciardello, who seemed to have had everything but had made a mess of it all by not appreciating the value of what he had.
‘If I were married to Louise, there is no way I would play around,' he thought. “Ricciardello had been stupid. Like Charlotte is being now.'
The parallel had not struck him before. The situation was the same for Louise and Ricky as it now was for him and Charlotte, whose blatant actions at the party left Nigel feeling gutted, especially as it was he who had employed the guy for that very purpose, to give single women a good time. Like Ricciardello, Charlotte was throwing away everything for a few moments of pleasure.
Louise’s answer had been to leave if Ricky continued to be unfaithful. That must have taken guts, especially for a Catholic. ‘The difference between me and Louise is that she had the guts to do something about it.’ Nigel said to himself. ‘Well, every journey begins with the first step. Charlotte first, then Frank.’
Nigel would move into a separate bedroom. Charlotte could come to him when she needed him; if she ever needed him. That was step one. Step two would be disentangling from Charlotte at the lowest possible cost. She did not know about the Cayman Islands account but if she dug her toes in, a smart lawyer would check Nigel’s tax records where he would find he had paid tax on money that he forwarded to the Cayman Islands. By law, Charlotte was entitled to half of everything; the off-shore account, the house, his money, his superannuation fund, anything of value that had been purchased while they were together. It was going to be expensive, no doubt about that.
Nigel thought that another disappointing person was Frank Copperfield. He had left Louise to fend for herself, where a man was meant to protect women, especially his wife. How gross was that? Nigel had trouble believing the present day man was the same Frank, the sportsman and good guy of earlier days, the man whom Nigel had admired more than any other. He had been pleased and flattered that Frank had befriended him and included him in the company of the big tough guys, the guys who were full of the confidence that Nigel lacked. Now Nigel could see that Frank was a user, plain and simple.
Frank had always been ambitious. When he came to Nigel with a planning problem, Nigel had helped him, pleased to be of service. Service. The word opened up for Nigel a whole new view of his relationship with Frank. That was it. Frank saw him as a service not as a friend. Frank had been using him, purely and simply. Nigel vowed that he would no longer bend the rules for Frank. He made the decision to treat Frank absolutely professionally, as he should have done from the start.
The first thing he would do would be to check on the steel used in the mall to ensure that it had in fact met the New Zealand Standards Authority requirements for the task that it would be required to do. Instead of inspecting the work himself, as Nigel had done with all of Larcombe and Copperfield’s previous developments, Nigel would delegate to one of his staff, thus removing himself from the problem completely.
Larcombe was behind it all of course. Tall, dark, handsome Larcombe, the hail fellow well met type. The man from Australia who never spoke about his past. He paid Nigel very well to turn a blind eye as the five million, all tax paid of course, in Nigel’s Cayman Island accounts showed. That five million would give Nigel the freedom to live as he pleased but at the cost of his integrity.
‘How on Earth have I let this happen?’ Nigel asked.
When Nigel searched on the Internet, he discovered that Larcombe was not allowed to register a company in Australia nor was he able to be on the board of any Australian company.
Nigel found out through a friend in a bank that Larcombe’s father owned a chain of real estate offices and was financially secure. That meant rich to ordinary people. Presumably Daddy had financed Larcombe’s business interests. In order to re-establish himself Larcombe had come to New Zealand from Australia after his finance house collapsed. New Zealand with its free market monetarist policies attracted Larcombe, who moved his finance house to New Zealand under a different name, Kiaora Ethical Investments. Living in a country where the commercial law favoured business to a risible extent, making New Zealand a tax haven and a hiding place for laundered money, Larcombe prospered and now had fingers in many pies.
Despite the Closer Economic Relations policy between the two countries, Australia gave New Zealand little information on people like Larcombe. Rod Petricevic had been such a case, a man whose dishonest practices in Australia were not communicated to New Zealand authorities and so he was allowed to continue his dishonest practices unabated in New Zealand, forcing hardship on thousands of investors when his finance company Bridgecorp collapsed. Did Larcombe’s money come from a similar scam?
Nigel thought of how he had bent the rules. He was the pot calling the kettle black. But there had been little opposition in the small city of Wahanui. Was it because most of the businessmen had attended the more traditional boys’ private school, Wahanui Boys College? Or was it due to coercion and intimidation? What about Councillor Scott, whose legs had been broken by unknown assailants and who had subsequently resigned from the Council? And Hamilton, who was murdered just a few weeks ago?
‘What have I got myself into?’ thought Nigel as the enormity of the other side of the coin sank in. He could see that there might be a trail of coercion and intimidation involving anyone who made a fuss and complained about the dishonest workings of the Council. Who was silencing criticism? He could not believe that Charles Cameron was involved, nor any of the other members he met at Council meetings, and yet critics invariably lacked support or suffered like Scott and Hamilton.
Nigel decided that the time had come to cash in his chips and quit the game. Completely. No Wahanui Council with its dodgy practices, no more Larcombe, no more Copperfield, and no more Charlotte the Harlot.
First he had to check that he had thoroughly covered his tracks in the Council records. He was sure that he had not breached any really serious laws, just minor transgressions. He had adjusted the records of anything incriminating at the time but he would go through all the records again because being meticulous was important to him.
After that he had to remove himself from direct contact with Larcombe and Copperfield. He could get rid of Charlotte, they were not married but had lived together long enough for her to claim her part of the matrimonial property. Tough but you can’t make an omelet without breaking eggs.
Louise. Would she come with him? She was unhappily married to Frank, who had left her so she was alone now. Should he approach her? What would Frank do if he did?
‘Leave it alone,’ he thought. ‘It’s too soon. She isn’t ready to start a new relationship yet. Anyway, if I tell her my part in her trouble at the party, she’ll never speak to me again.’
Nigel was indecisive. Perhaps there had been no trouble; nothing had happened. Nigel was only guessing. If she ever mentioned her terrible ordeal, he might apologise for leaving her with Larcombe, but until that happened he would be better saying nothing. At least he had not taken advantage of her, nor did he know if anybody else had. He was just guessing because he could hardly ask Louise directly.
'I might be making a mountain out of a molehill,’ thought Nigel. ‘I'll see more of Louise, see how things go and try to make up for my lack of guts.’