Eye for an Eye Read Online Free PDF Page A

know!
Maybe Smitty’s got it figured out but I sure haven’t.’
    He threw the
cutlery into the drawer and slammed it shut. ‘Look, I just want to
put it behind me, OK? We got nowhere with Dad’s robbery, we got
nothing but an answer-phone for Colwyn Symons, there’s nothing more
we can do.’
    ‘Oh come on,
Pete! You can’t just let it go like that! Imagine if Dad hadn’t
taken out that insurance - we’d have lost the farm as well as the
money. You’d be out of a job, you’d have nowhere to live, and all
Dad’s work would have been lost. He wanted to build something here
that would last for generations, and one crooked bastard could have
ruined everything. Doesn’t that rattle your cage just a little
bit?’
    ‘Yes of course
it does!’ He clamped his mouth shut for a moment then took a deep
breath. ‘I just don’t see that there’s anything to be gained by
chasing after shadows. Dad’s dead, the investment money’s gone, and
there’s no way of fixing either of those things. But the insurance
paid out and the farm’s OK. We have to let it go.’
    ‘Yeah, maybe
you’re right.’ She threw down the wet dish-cloth on the draining
board. There was a brief silence. But Robyn just couldn’t leave the
subject alone. ‘Pete, it bugs me that the only reason Dad was out
there at Walter’s Bluff in the first place was supposedly to clear
his mind because he was worried sick about losing the money. Does
that sound like a good enough reason to you? Suppose he just staged
a fake robbery, because there’d been a real one that he couldn’t do
anything about. He might actually have jumped, Pete, all because of
that missing money. He might have jumped off a damned cliff just
for the insurance payout to replace it - and that Symons character
seems to have got away with nicking it.’ She gasped as another
thought struck her. ‘Oh God, Pete - how many more people has he
done it to besides Dad?’
    Suds from her
hands splattered across the floor as she gesticulated. ‘It seems so
unfair, doesn’t it? I just wish there was something I could
do.’
    Foam splashed
up from the sink and soaked into her shirt-front. She jerked up the
plug chain in frustration and watched the water drain away. Pete
looked at her sadly.
    ‘Come on Robyn,
you’ll drive yourself insane if you go down that track. Let it go –
there’s nothing we can do that will bring Dad back, and he wouldn’t
have wanted you ripping yourself apart over it.’
    ‘Oh to hell
with it, maybe you’re right - I’m going home tomorrow and getting
on with my job, and you’ve got a farm to run.’ She gave her brother
a quick hug. ‘Tell me when the first bloke’s turning up for his
interview so I can be out of your way before he gets here.’
    She let the
kitchen door bang behind her.
     
    In the weeks
and months that followed, she went about her job mechanically, her
photography lacking much of its usual flair. Weddings were
especially difficult for her, being filled with happy family
moments that she felt no desire to capture. At the end of each day
she returned home reluctantly, and tried to lose herself in a
variety of mindless pastimes until it was late enough for her to
fall asleep.
    It was during
the TV news one evening that she saw something that jolted her out
of her numbness. There was an interview with a golden-haired man
lounging on board a sleek white yacht, and the name at the bottom
of the screen said ‘Colwyn Symons, Toronto, Canada’. Robyn sat bolt
upright on the couch, fumbling for the remote to turn up the
volume. Symons was being interviewed by an investigative reporter
who had followed him from New Zealand after his sudden departure
some months previously. Robyn sharpened her attention. This must be
the same Colwyn Symons. The reporter was asking about the funds
that Mr. Symons had invested on behalf of his clients. Mr. Symons
replied that sadly, the investment market had not performed as
expected, and that as share values had