Chapter Sixteen

Overcover

Stephen Pohler’s house was in an older neighbourhood, which before the post-war boom would have been considered the outer suburbs. Now it was just expensive. It was civilised and upper-middle class, with large old houses on large, old blocks in a family-friendly neighbourhood. The streets were clean and tree-lined, the verge grass was mown and there was a constant hum of lawnmowers blended along with the birds and distant train line. Sandra had seen places like this on nice TV shows about families filled with love and doing nice things. She didn’t realise that actually existed in such a real way.

They had parked the barina right outside the large white picket fence and looked across the large cottage garden to the large veranda that decked the front of the large house. They hadn’t told Richard about their visit to Stephen – he may have said he trusts her, but she still didn’t trust him. They had learnt that when his parents had died, Stephen elected to take none of his inheritance. Richard did, and made the fortune grow, whilst Stephen continued to make his own way. For undisclosed reasons they hadn’t spoken for nearly thirty years. Sandra said afterwards, excusing the cliché, it all seemed a little too neat, too simple. Then Liz pointed out that they didn’t know why they hadn’t spoken, why he hadn’t taken the money, why Richard did, how they died, why this, how that, and it all got nicely complicated again. That was something Sandra could work with. Simple only confused her and made her suspicious.

Richard had given them an envelope with five thousand dollars in it, explaining that for their safety he was going to have to appear distant from any investigating they did by themselves, and that he couldn’t actively finance them. Liz, who seemed to have adopted the role of personal secretary, took the money and stuffed it into the bag next to the other five thousand dollar envelope. These men, Sandra thought, must have fascinating desk drawers - stay away from the stationary Stacey, I’ll do all the posting myself. Wealth created odd people she decided. Often she dreamed of having the means to be odd.

He then handed her a phone, and said that his number was programmed into it, it was the only number in the phone and she just needs to call it. Sandra asked if she could just write the number down, and Richard pointed out that she didn’t have a phone. Here was one that she could use for free. She smiled, took it, and handed it to Liz who put it in the bag with the other two Pohler phones.

She took it out of the bag as they sat in the car, surveying Stephen Pohler’s house.

“Do you reckon we could get his phone too”, Liz asked.

“I feel a bit like a phone slut actually”, Sandra said, concerned at the honesty of that statement. “What a weird fucking family.”

“Well, he was just trying to be helpful. Father and son just help in the same way. Here’s an envelope with five grand. Here’s a new phone. Have a nice day, please call me, I’m the only number.”

“I guess. It’s all a bit too co-inkydinky for me, you know?”

“There’s no coincidence, it makes sense. If anything, that makes more sense than anything else those wacky bastards get up to. Do you reckon they play polo?”

“Why would they play polo?”

“They’re rich. Old, old money. That’s the sort of thing old money do isn’t it?”

“I’ve no idea. Why don’t we go ask Stephen?”

The both looked in the mirror to see if they’d been tailed. They didn’t mind being tailed whilst they were working for Richard, except they weren’t sure whether the person following them would tell Richard or tell his other employer where they were going, and if that would upset Richard if he knew or if he didn’t know, or if the other employer would consider them a threat for being there or even suspect that they knew that Richard knew that they were being tailed and he was not being told so the other employer instead who would be angry and remove their kneecaps and hurt them a lot.

They had decided it was best to allow Richard’s shadow to try and follow them, to allay any suspicion. Suddenly Sandra was acutely aware that her life was inexorably linked to his, and as long as whoever it was thought Richard was suspicious of her, the safer it seemed to be. Richard had left as stiff as he had arrived. He made no comment to anyone, got into his car and had left, flanked by his bodyguards.

Sandra and Liz then contrived a subterfuge to lose their shadow, who would assume they were losing Richard’s shadow and not a double agent. It took some thinking but they were so pleased with it they argued for an hour over whether it paid homage to Guinness, Le Carre, Bogart or James Bond. Crucially, they couldn’t agree on the music for the montage sequence, but it was definitely something from the 70s. And it was definitely funky.

Step 1: To ensure their plan isn’t suspected, they must avoid communication with each other. Sandra exits the house and heads towards the nearest train station. She wears dark sunglasses, keeping a constant lookout for people with her eyes only, and not moving her head. Sandra catches the next train into the city giving people a distinctive nickname to remember them by. ‘Dr Teeth.’ ‘Augustus Costello.’ ‘Liam Neeson.’ That sort of thing.

Step 2: After half an hour, Liz leaves. She drives the barina to a train station further out on the same line, and catch the next train to the city. She follows the same procedures. ‘Big Ears.’ ‘Mono-brow.’ ‘Big Nose.’ Momentary concern over the oddly proportioned passengers.

Step 3: Sandra gets off after two stops. Nickname those who get off with her, walk to a shop. Buy something, return to the train station and get a train back the way she came.

Step 4: Liz gets off at the same stop that Sandra got off at earlier, and goes to a cafe. Goes into the café and pays for a coffee before it arrives then sits outside, as close to the street as possible.

Step 5: As the train arrives at where she got on, Sandra goes to the door, ready to get off. Train stops at the station, she opens the door, gets off, begins to walk, then suddenly realises she’s left something on the train and jumps back on at the last minute. She continues to the stop where the car is parked, and using the spare key takes the car.

Step 6: Drive by Liz’s café, only slow down as she passes so Liz can efficiently get up, jump into the car and they can be on their way. Proceed onwards down a number of quiet suburban streets just in case, before making their way to the house of Stephen Pohler.

If all went to plan, nobody could get the drop on them. Of course it didn’t. It didn’t even start well. First they couldn’t find the spare key to the car, so they had to work out where Liz could stash it. That took a while. They didn't have any dark sunglasses, all she could find were some ski goggles. They went ahead anyway, sans glasses, and Sandra eventually found the train station, caught the next train and got off at the right stop by herself as nobody else got off. She went to the strip of shops, bought a book from a second-hand shop, meandered, and went back to the station.

All was going well.

She got on the train. Fine. When she went to get off the train she was so nervous about getting back on again she forgot to leave her book behind to get back on for. She didn’t realise this until she got off. She looked at the book in her hand, swore, then suddenly realised she had left her handbag with the envelopes behind, went to leap back on in genuine desperation only to have someone hurriedly pass it to her through the closing door. She smiled thanks, and then took a seat on the platform as the train left to wait for the next one.

Liz, on the other hand, had got into the car and driven off smoothly. She changed lanes when she could, unnecessarily, and turned down a number of unusual suburban streets and seen no one following her. Satisfied, she headed towards the decreed station only to realise she was completely lost. Eventually she got to the right station, stashed the key under the right rear tire as agreed, and then got on the next city-bound train. It broke down two stops later, between stations, and they all sat in a still train trying not to make eye contact other than to silently agree ‘well this sucks’.

These delays worked out well for Sandra, who got to the station well after Liz had left as her train was delayed by a broken down train further down the line. She found the key without hassle, and looked at the clock when she got in the car. One and a half hours since she left the house. See, she thought, this is why I always walk or drive. If anyone was following, they would have given up in sheer boredom by now. The good news was she had discovered a new and interesting book.

Liz’s train eventually limped into the station where they were going to meet. She made her way down the main street only to realise there were no street cafes. It didn’t matter in the end, because Sandra had done three laps of the main street looking for her. She’d nearly called, but was trying to act like she was just looking for a parking spot. Or the right parking spot, since there were several available.

Liz had grumped into the car, unhappy with the way things had gone. Sandra was feeling the same. But they were confident that, when they reached Stephen Pohler’s house, there was no way they were being followed.

Just to be sure, they checked the mirrors. It also made them feel detectivey.

“Whaddya reckon?” Sandra asked, give Liz a side glance.

“I reckon we’re clear San. Whaddyou reackon?”

“I reckon the same Lizzo.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

They were still paused before getting out. Liz asked:

“What are we gonna say?”

Sandra stopped, thought for a moment, and then turned to Liz.

“I don’t know. I have no idea. The last time I tried this I fucked up every rehearsed speech, none of which would have worked anyway, made the rest up and found a dead body. I don’t want to sound jaded after one attempt at undercover work, but I’m thinking I’ll just knock on the door and play it from there. Yeah?”

“Fuck yeah”, she said, and they got out of the car. Sandra beeped the lock on the car as they walked to the house in slow motion, feeling like she had a purpose. Liz gave the neighbourhood one final glance, just to make sure they weren’t followed, as they approached the house and knocked on the door.

They were followed. Every step of the way. They never noticed, because the person following them was very good at their job.