The Trusted Professions - Chapter 3

I take it you weren't a fan?

He was just...background noise, `til his wife walked in. I mean, some rich white guy slams women and minorities? You just roll your eyes and move on. I mean, I remember reading a few of his columns and being generally disgusted that people buy this crap, but what's new? The world is full of people waiting to be led. People don?t know what they?re doing half the time, and then someone stands up and says something in a loud voice, and they think: ?Hey! That?s a good idea!? because the people with the good ideas aren?t screaming them as loud as he is. People are miserable and they want to know why. They want to blame someone. So if someone steps up and says ?Immigrants!? or ?Social Rights!? or ?Uzbekistan!? well, it?s hardly surprising that people nod their heads and feel grateful for having somewhere to vent their anger. And if they shower him with fame and riches as his reward, well, it?s surprising that more people don?t stand up to fill that niche. Way o? the world.

So?not a fan?

No, I wasn't a fan, but I hadn't thought much about him beyond the occasional, yeah, sigh of confusion, he never really registered. Jez had to tell me who our new customer was -with a feverish sweat on his brow, I might add- I guess he'd seen her in the papers.

What was your impression of her?

Uhm, intelligent, proud, but obviously extremely nervous- she was clutching her handbag to her chest, like this, like a rabbit, y'see. She later told us she used to be an actress. She'd obviously been a looker back in her time, and even though that time had passed, y'know, you could still kind of see how she could have turned a few heads. Still could, I suppose, if she hadn't looked so shattered. She looked kind of...wrapped in cellophane, a little. Not really, but that's the best impression I can give- like the she was living a layer beneath her own skin. I guess that doesn't mean much. Whatever.

We ushered her in, sat her down, got her a glass of water, made a bit of a fuss over her really, me because I felt sorry for the poor thing, Jez because he could see big fat dollar signs flashing behind her. Me too, I guess, if I'm honest. Jez's excitement was a little infectious. This was our first potential celebrity client, and we both knew that was a common way for a PI firm to break into the big leagues. He probably didn't wipe a little sliver of drool from his mouth, but for some reasons I remember him doing that anyway. Memory's funny like that.

"I'm not sure if you recognize me, my name is Keri Colmes." she said after we had introduced ourselves. "I'm married to Saul Colmes."

"Your reputation precedes you, Mrs. Colmes," said Jez, smiling -I think he might have been trying to channel Star Wars- "how may we be of assistance?"

"Well," she goes, "I'm sure you've read in the press that I've recently become...estranged, from my husband."

I'm positive Jez had been following the story in the press, but I think he wanted to hear it from her perspective, so he asked her to go on. She was clearly having some difficulty articulating her position, and spoke haltingly.

"We first started living apart six months ago, and it caused something of a furore in the press at the time, somewhat fuelled by Saul's own comments on his show, much to my regret. It was initially a trial separation; he said he needed to focus on his work. He assured me that it would be only temporary. I know how his public persona is perceived but he is in fact a perfectly wonderful, gentle man. We first met in University, forty years ago now, I was nineteen, he was twenty. We both worked at the same student radio station. His show was on after mine, and he'd always flirt with me on air when I handed my show over to his. I didn't respond, at first, I was quite shy back then, but he persisted, over quite a long time- longer than many other boys would have. He was tall and gangly back then, but full of energy and ideas, always busy. Always at the centre of things. It was exciting to be around that sort of energy. That sort of verve. Intoxicating, really. Although I was flattered, I never reciprocated his advances.

?By then, by the time I realized I returned his feelings, my acting career had taken off, I was in a few soaps, I don?t know if you remember,? she blushed, as if sensing that we did not ?but still he pursued me. After a while, I?d gotten so deep into the world of the biz , I realized he was my oldest friend, and I knew I was in love with him. He proposed the moment I told him. I remember it as though it only just happened today. We were punting on the Cam. It was like?it only just happened.? She was staring right through us by this stage.

?We?ve been married for over thirty years. My career kind of stalled once we were married, but Saul?s took off. Sometimes I like to think my own fame was a stepping stone for him- but I suspect he would have got where he is today no matter what. He?s very?driven like that. Once he is focused on something, very little can drag his teeth from it. Like me, I guess.? She laughed nervously, a sort of embarrassed titter that registered as a short, dull pain in my gut.

?I won?t say there haven?t been tough times. I always knew he had the occasional infidelity. I didn?t ask and he didn?t tell, so long as I was the one he came home to. But then one day?he didn?t come home. Not for the next day, not for the next week. Eventually he showed up, it?s hard to go missing when you?re Saul Colmes, all I had to do was open the local rag and there he was. With her.? Her hands bunched into fists. The leather strap of her purse made an audible creak under her grip.

?Who?? I asked, unthinkingly.

?Gilette. Fucking little slut. You?ve no doubt seen her in the papers. She?s barely a child. A fucking child model. I can?t drive through the fucking city without seeing her little cunt face plastered over every billboard in town. Do you know what that?s like? To see your husband with a girl younger than your own children? To see her face wherever you look? To see them together in your mind??

Her sentence choked off as she struggled to compose herself. She wasn?t crying, but her eyes were full of water. I handed her a tissue and kept a straight face. This wasn?t the first time we?d heard a sob story at this desk.

?I?m sorry,? she sniffed. She composed herself almost instantly. She was obviously a woman used to reigning in strong emotions. ?It?s?still a fresh pain. It?s been a bloody affair- the press follows every detail of it religiously. I try not to read about it but I can?t help myself- every day I see photos of them stumbling out of nightclubs together, attending parties together- while at the same time the bloody vultures circle outside my door- hiding in my garden, taking photos of me weeping through my own windows! Nowhere is hidden from them. There?s nowhere to forget. It?s been going on six months now, and I don?t know that I can take it for much longer.?

?We understand, Mrs. Colmes. Is there some way The Trusted Professions can be of service to you??

She looked each of us sharply in the eye, held our gaze individually for quite a few moments.

?I haven?t given up hope for my marriage.? She said directly. ?I?ve kept my vows and I know Saul still loves me. He?s told me he has. I?m fully prepared to give him a second chance. But I don?t think he?s prepared to join me in that commitment while that little whore is still clamped to his crotch. I want her out of the picture. Out. If she leaves him, he?ll come back to me. I know it. He needs me. He doesn?t need her. I want her out. I don?t frankly care how you do it. I want you to research her. Research them. Find something I can use to bribe her. Or something about her we can use to drive a wedge between them. Something. Any thing. I want that fucking insect crushed. I want her observed. Scrutinized. Everyone has something in their closet. For Christ?s sake, she?s a nineteen year old cocaine addict fucking a sixty year old man- you don?t think she?s getting sugar from somewhere else? He?s certainly not capable of keeping up with her, of that I can assure you.?

Her face had long since utterly transformed. The plastic seal had torn and a twisted demon had erupted from its prophylactic layer. Her eyes were blazing, red rimmed and burning with barely restrained hatred. Her mouth curled up into vicious sneer, contorted around teeth bared like fangs. The remnants of the elegant beauty I?d seen in her were consumed with anger. At the time I remember wondering how anyone could have so much hate inside them. Now I know.

?She?s been seen with other men. She keeps a low profile, she has to, but she was rumoured to be linked with that?that musician fellow. These are the things you need to find out. Follow her. Photograph them together. It doesn?t matter who with. That little whore couldn?t walk ten blocks without having to blow some homeless man on the street. How do you think she gets her modelling contracts? She?s hardly beautiful; she?s as thin as a rake! God knows what Saul sees in her. I worry for him. Who knows what diseases she?s picking up from her photographers and passing on to him. On to me!

?Saul?s very territorial. He likes to own what he pisses on. If he finds out she?s playing around on him, he won?t just leave her, he?ll ruin her. He?ll destroy her. He doesn?t stand to be made a fool of. And then he?ll come back to me. I know I must sound strange, wanting a man who doesn?t want me, but you have to understand that he?s going through a crisis. He?s aging, he?s always been scared of being old, he doesn?t know what he wants or needs. I know what he needs. I can guide him into those dark years gracefully. He needs me. I need him. She?s in the way and I want her out.?
We waited a few moments to make sure she?d finished speaking. Jez spoke very calmly and clearly.

?We certainly have a number of surveillance options at our disposal which we could employ to find out if the young lady in question is seeing another man. We can place her under video surveillance, penetrate her house with parabolic mics, use radio interferometers to intercept her cellphone signals, text messages, and there?s a pretty good chance we can hack into her computer and read her e-mails. Actually breaking into her house is illegal, but is always an option if further details are required. One of the main reasons people come to professional private investigators is that it creates a barrier of protection between yourself and any investigation carried out. If we get caught, a complete cover story exists which in no way ties back to yourself.?

?Deniability would be paramount.?

?All part of the service. We can also investigate her past for any potentially embarrassing?historical incidents. Contact family, old friends, business associates. All confidentially, you understand. People in the fashion industry are notoriously loose-lipped at the best of times- show them a bit of ink and they practically fall over themselves to sell out their best friends.

?It?s really all a question of how far you?d like us to go.?

?Go as far as you need.?

?So you don?t mind us investigating your husband, as well.?

?Absolutely. I want to know exactly what he?s up to. If he?s fucking someone else on the side and we can use that to get rid of her, that?s just as effective to me.?

?There?s also the question of??

?Cost is not a concern, if that is what you?re indicating. I still have complete access to Saul?s funds, which are extensive, as I?m sure you?ve gathered. I?ve had to resist the temptation to burn his yacht down on several occasions. You get this done and send me the itemized bill. If it?s done and the bill adds up, I?ll pay it. If it doesn?t get done, neither you nor I will ever mention this meeting again. I hope that?s clear.?

Jez swallowed and took a breath.

Did I mention he wasn?t fat any more? I think I should have mentioned this at one point or another. The fat thing was a teenage thing, he worked really hard to lose that weight, and by the time he was thirty, he was in pretty good shape. Better than me, for sure. We were kind of the lonesome losers in school, and he?d always joked to me that if he ever got a girlfriend, he?d bang so her so damned much that he wouldn?t need to go to the gym anymore. I guess he was right. Anyway, just so you?re not picturing a big fat dude anymore. This would be a lot easier if you?d just read the damned papers.

So he?s in negotiating mode now, he swallows, takes a breath and says:

?We?d need an initial retainer to??

?Fine. I?ll give you ten thousand now, and pay the remainder if you get that dirty slut out of my husband?s life.?

Jez surreptitiously licked his lips. Ten grand was five times our usual retainer. I could see him mentally inflating our final bill by a similar factor.

?That?d certainly be satisfactory. All transfers lead to an untraceable shell company that?s easily explainable as an investment in foreign oil. Cash or cheque??

?Card, if you please.?