Comeback (2 page)

I sighed. The generation gap with a vengeance. Forrest was in his mid-twenties at a guess. That probably put his dad in his fifties.

‘Who would that be?’

‘Ray Frost. I changed my name for professional reasons. Dad said you handled a delicate matter for him way back when. He said he thought you’d gone out of business, but I found your web page.’

‘I took a break. I’m sorry, I don’t remember the name Ray Frost. Did he tell you what it was about?’

He shook his head. ‘He wouldn’t say. He was a bit of a wild man back then, I gather.’

‘Probably best to leave it then. Anyway, I’m glad I gave satisfaction. What can I do for you?’

I have misgivings about grown men using a diminutive like Bobby, but it happens and probably more in show business than anywhere else. He was wearing sneakers, jeans, a T-shirt and a leather jacket. All good quality and expensive-looking. He fiddled with the zip on the jacket. ‘It’s like, kind of embarrassing.’

I nodded the way the psychiatrists do, trying to look comforting as well as professionally concerned.

‘I’m being stalked.’ He blurted it out.

Another nod. ‘By whom?’

‘I... sort of...don’t know.’

He had my attention. A changed name and a mysterious stalker will do that every time. I must have got the comforting look right because he stopped fidgeting, sat up straight and told me the story.

■ ■ ■

Bobby Forrest was an actor. He’d changed his name because Frost had connotations of cold and discomfort, and Forrest suggested something natural and, in these greening days, valuable. He said he’d dropped out of NIDA and hadn’t regretted it. A good part had come along and he’d grabbed it and been in regular work ever since, in television, films and commercials. He wasn’t surprised when I admitted I’d never heard of him.

‘No offence,’ he said, ‘but I’m geared towards a younger market.’

‘Fair enough,’ I said. ‘Very wise.’

‘I’m pretty well known. I’ve done a lot of TV and some movies. I’ve been on the cover of a few magazines and stuff like that. But I know I’m not that smart,’ he said.

I made the sort of gesture you make but he was serious. He said he’d been good at a variety of sports at school. He could sing and dance a bit and play a couple of musical instruments, but he’d never been interested in studying and his talent for acting was just a knack. He’d always liked to show off. He planned to start reading books and developing his mind.

‘I’ve got a girlfriend who’s helping me with that. Her name’s Jane. I’ve got a photo...’ He started to reach for the inside pocket of his jacket but stopped. ‘I’m getting ahead of myself. I haven’t been much of a success with girls—shy, really. So I tried the online dating thing and that’s how I met Jane. But before I met her I got into a sort of online relationship with this other woman.’

He took two photos from his jacket and studied them. ‘I don’t know if you know how online dating works, Mr Hardy.’

‘Call me Cliff. I’ve got a rough idea. You exchange information and photos and if you tick enough boxes with each other you arrange to meet.’

‘That’s right. With no obligation on either side. If you don’t get along, all bets are off with no harm done.’

Just stating it so matter-of-factly made me see a whole minefield. No obligation, the bet’s off, no harm done, can mean very different things to different people.

He selected one of the photos and put it on my desk as if he was glad to be rid of it. It was a full-length shot of an extremely attractive woman. She was slim and dark, provocatively posed in a tight dress that showed an impressive length of shapely leg.

Forrest held the other photo as though it was fragile or so light it might float away. He pointed to the photo on the desk.

‘I met her once. You don’t have to use your real names. I didn’t use mine. She said her name was Miranda but it probably wasn’t. She said she was an actress.’

‘It didn’t take?’

‘She was awful. Very conceited and aggressive. Tried to... run everything. It was a disaster and I couldn’t get away quick enough.’

It was mid-October and getting warm outside. He was dressed a bit too heavily in the leather jacket but it was the memory of his meeting with Miranda that was making him sweat. He transferred the photo to his left hand and rubbed his fist across his damp forehead.

‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Like I say, it was awful... in every way I thought that was it and I went back online, looking, and I found Jane. We met and hit it off right away. She’s terrific. She’s very smart, much smarter than me, but she somehow makes me feel smarter than I am, better than I am, if you can understand that.’

I wasn’t sure, but I thought I could. ‘A good feeling.’

‘The best. But this other one, she won’t leave me alone. She bombards me with text messages and emails. She’s turned up a few times at places where I’ve been. I’ve no idea how she finds out my movements. I get the feeling that I’m being followed sometimes, but that might just be paranoia—isn’t that what they call it?’

‘Yes. Does Jane know about her?’

‘No, and that’s one of my worries. Jane is sort of insecure about me.’

‘How’s that?’

He shook his head. ‘It’s hard to explain and it’s bound up with one of my other problems. The whole fucking thing’s all bound up together and with my...I’m sorry, Mr...Cliff, I’m not sure I can go on with this.’

It was 4 pm, late enough under the circumstances. I had a bottle of Black Douglas in the bottom drawer of the desk. I got it out, opened the bar fridge and put a couple of ice cubes in two plastic glasses left over from the party. I added solid slugs of the scotch and pushed the drink across to him.

‘Have a drink, Bobby, and collect your thoughts. Nothing you say to me gets said to anyone else without your permission.’

He took the glass and had a sip, then a longer pull. ‘Okay, thanks. This is the really embarrassing bit...bits. Being stalked by a woman and not being able to handle it, that’s bad enough, but... I went home with Miranda. I don’t know why. I suppose I thought I should. I couldn’t get it up for her. She was beautiful and all that, but I just couldn’t. I’ve had some trouble in that department over the years

‘You’re not Robinson Crusoe.’

‘What? Oh, yeah, but nothing like this. It was miserable.’

‘Do I have to ask the obvious question?’

‘No. With Jane everything is wonderful. Amazing, really. But Miranda, or whoever she is, has threatened to harm Jane. To physically hurt her. And she says she’ll tell her I’m really gay and that I’m just using her as a...’

‘Beard, the Americans call it.’

‘Do they? Okay. She says she knows I’m not and that she can fix my problem, but she says she’s so hurt that’s what she’d do.’

‘Unless?’

‘Unless I agree to see her, respond to her messages and emails, go on a holiday with her, all that.’

‘These threats come how?’

‘Emails, letters, cards, phone calls.’

He handed me the other photograph. It showed a young woman sitting in a chair smiling shyly at the camera. She had curly, cropped hair, a pug nose and slightly droopy eyes. She wore a blouse and a skirt that covered her knees. Forrest cleared his throat.

‘Jane isn’t beautiful, as you can see, but that doesn’t matter to me. She’s wonderful and I love her, but because I look the way I do ... shit, I hate saying this.’

‘She feels she’s not good enough for you while you feel you’re not good enough for her.’

He had large, expressive blue eyes like Mel Gibson and he opened them wide. ‘That’s it exactly. I can’t bear the thought of losing her or of any harm coming to her because of me.’

‘Tell me about the threats to Jane.’

‘They’re kind of veiled, I suppose you’d call it. Nothing like “I’ll throw acid in her face” or like that. But she says how people can have accidents, how they can contract diseases by being in the wrong place at the wrong time. She says she knows people who can arrange things and how Sydney is such a dangerous city.’

‘Nothing direct?’

‘No.’

‘And you believe she’s capable of carrying out these threats?’

‘That’s the trouble, I don’t know. But I can’t afford to take the risk. I’m embarrassed about all this. The only person I’ve been able to talk to about it was my dad. Can you help me?’

~ * ~

2

It didn’t feel like such a big deal. It was a reversal of the usual stalker scenario, but what could I expect? It was the twenty-first century and we had climate change, an unwinnable war supported by both sides of politics, a minority government and a female prime minister. Change was everywhere.

Bobby said he’d been back to Miranda’s flat but she wasn’t there. He felt too angry to reply to her emails or phone calls because he was worried she might record him saying something he shouldn’t. He mentioned his bad temper. He wanted me to find Miranda and talk to her. Persuade her that the course she was following would only get her into serious trouble.

‘Would you take legal action?’

He finished his drink as he thought about it. ‘I’d be reluctant. It’d be embarrassing and Jane would find out all about it. But Dad says you’re good at getting through to people. If you thought she was serious about the threats and wouldn’t listen, then yes, I’d take legal action.’

That was sensible. He was smarter than he thought. I had him sign a contract and pay over a retainer. I asked him for more details on how the particular dating website he’d used worked and he filled me in. I took notes. I got his email address and his postal address, his landline and his mobile number.

Jane’s surname was Devereaux and I got her details, including the publishing company she worked for as a commissioning editor. I got Bobby’s agent’s details and those for his father. Bobby and I shook hands and he thanked me effusively. So far all he’d had was a sympathetic ear, and the retainer he’d given me, in line with what I’d learned was the new scale of fees, was steep. I felt I had to have something to contribute immediately. I asked him if Miranda had given him a deadline for carrying out her threats.

‘Not exactly, but she implied I didn’t have long.’

‘If I have trouble finding her, another way might be for you to contact her and arrange to meet. I could step in then.’

He looked dismayed at the prospect, almost angry when I told him that if it came to making contact with Miranda it would be better to do it by phone in case Jane read his emails.

‘She wouldn’t do that.’

‘You never know what a person will do.’

The anger subsided. A flush had come over his face and he’d gripped the arms of his chair so that the structure creaked. He drew in a deep breath. ‘I don’t think I could meet her. I think if I did I might...’

‘Do what?’

He shook his head and didn’t answer.

‘How strong is this feeling of being followed?’

‘Pretty strong. I haven’t known what to do about it with Jane there in case it was Miranda herself. I mean, she talked about knowing people...’

He was suddenly anxious to go and I let him. I stared at the closed door and wondered what he’d been going to say. Was it,
I might try to prove my manhood
, or
I might harm her?

■ ■ ■

After he left I scanned my notes and the signed contract into the computer and created a file for it. I scanned the photos of Miranda and Jane into the computer and made copies. Then I threw the notes away They say the paperless office didn’t happen; I kept the signed contract but otherwise I was prepared to get as close to paperless as I could.

I checked the site Bobby had used. The drill was to choose a username which could include a bit of your real name or not. The instructions suggested that it was a good idea to give a hint of your main interests at this stage. Then you set up a profile with a list of your interests, likes and dislikes. At this point you also sketch in the kind of person you’re looking for. You get an ‘inbox’ so people can send you messages through the site and you can respond to them. No email address or contact details until you get responses and have communicated back and forth enough to feel confident you’ve latched on to a ’possible’. Then contact details and face-to-face meetings are up to you. Photographs are optional in the profile but you can protect them from being looked at by all and sundry and restrict access to them to people who take your fancy. You can pay a subscription, and Bobby’s was pretty heavy, or just buy credits and pay message by message.

Bobby, looking shamefaced, had told me that Miranda’s photograph had attracted him and her list of interests included acting and several sports he was keen on. He’d ‘messaged’ her, got a response and they communicated a few times before arranging a meeting at a wine bar in Coogee. He’d given her his email address and mobile number. Once bitten, he’d been more cautious with Jane and they’d spent more time providing details and filling in backgrounds before they’d arranged to meet. He said he hadn’t been disappointed by her looks when they met at a coffee shop in Randwick. He described her face as fascinating. She hadn’t objected to his intellectual shortcomings. He said they’d laughed a lot and at the same sorts of things. He’d agreed to read some books and she’d agreed to let him teach her to play golf. They went to bed on their third meeting and hit the jackpot.