The Maid's Diary(38)
“Mosque. If he’s religious, I’m sure he goes to a mosque.”
A pause. “Okay.” Another pause. “If our subject has any ardent political or ideological affiliations, it could help. The more personal information, the better. Say six thirty p.m. at the Jericho lot?”
“That’s fine.” Jon will access TerraWest’s HR computer database. He will compile a file of whatever details he can find in there before he leaves the office. He can rendezvous with Jake on his way home. Jericho Beach is not far from Rose Cottage.
Jake says, “I drive a pale-blue Toyota Camry. Blends in everywhere—incognito is the name of my game.” The phone goes dead.
Jon sits, holding his mobile. His pulse races. But a smile begins to curve his mouth. He feels empowered. He’s taking action. Doing something. He feels the old Jon that Mia awoke last night stirring and swelling in strength. Bolstered by his chat with the PI, Jon attempts a quick internet search for “Mia Reiter.”
Several Mia Reiters pop up. But there is no one who looks like his Mia Reiter. Just as well. His place is with Daisy and the baby. He remains proud of himself that he stepped away last night. It’s imperative he keeps his head screwed on right, because losing Daisy on top of possibly losing this TerraWest promotion—it’s not tenable. Daisy and the baby are also his link to Wentworth money. Jon is fully aware that if he fucks around and Labden or Annabelle Wentworth find out—he’s toast. They will drag him through the courts and sue him to the cleaners and back. He needs to stay smart, keep low on the radar.
He also did not handle Daisy well this morning. He decides he will buy her some roses at that Bea’s Blooms place after meeting Jake. He’ll text her and tell her he’s bringing takeout for dinner.
By the time Jon drives his Audi out of the underground parking garage and feeds into downtown traffic, it’s 6:10 p.m.
A manila folder lies on the passenger seat beside him. It contains private details on Ahmed Waheed.
THE PHOTOGRAPHER
When Rittenberg’s Audi pulls out from the underground parking garage of the TerraWest tower, the photographer waiting in his car across the street pulls out and follows him, staying two cars behind. It’s already dark, so he feels confident he won’t be detected by Rittenberg. The photographer’s camera rests on the passenger seat.
At 6:29 p.m. Jon Rittenberg’s Audi turns into a parking lot near Jericho Beach. Rittenberg parks near a low concrete building that houses a concession, showers, and washrooms.
The photographer stops his vehicle below a tree on the residential street that runs past the parking lot. He kills his engine and watches the Audi.
Two minutes later a light-blue Toyota Camry turns into the lot and parks near the Audi. The driver’s door swings open. The parking lot lights illuminate a heavyset guy with a belly exiting the Camry. The man’s head is shiny bald. He goes straight for the passenger door of the Audi, opens it, climbs in.
The photographer raises his lens, points through the open car window.
Click click click.
The Audi door shuts. The photographer waits.
Almost seven minutes later, the bald man exits the Audi. This time he holds a large brown envelope in his hand. The photographer clicks again, making sure he captures both the envelope and the Audi license plate.
The bald man climbs back into the driver’s seat of the Toyota Camry.
The photographer clicks. He captures the Camry’s plates as it drives off.
The photographer then hesitates. He can wait until Rittenberg leaves the lot, and follow him. Or he could follow the Camry. The photographer slides down into his seat and out of sight as the Camry passes his parked vehicle. He comes upright, starts his engine, puts his car into gear, and follows the Camry down the dimly lit street.
The Camry leads him all the way to a small strip mall in Burnaby. The Camry enters the mall lot and parks in front of a Laundromat. The bald man exits the Camry and makes for a recessed doorway tucked between the Laundromat and a busy Vietnamese restaurant.
The photographer waits. Patrons come and go from the restaurant. There are two people inside the Laundromat. Time is now 7:52 p.m. The photographer notices a light go on in windows upstairs from the Laundromat. He exits his vehicle and goes up to the recessed door into which the bald man disappeared. A plaque at the side of the door names three businesses located upstairs. One is a ballroom dance studio, another is a cobbler, and the third is Preston Private Investigations.
The photographer smiles. So Jon Rittenberg is working with a private investigator.
He returns to his vehicle, opens his phone, and finds the website for Preston Private Investigations.
Extramarital Affairs, Adultery, Infidelity, Unfaithful Cheating Spouses: These terms cause enormous amounts of stress for those who suspect a spouse’s activities . . .
Does Jon Rittenberg suspect his wife of adultery? Something more sinister?
The photographer waits awhile longer inside his dark vehicle. It begins to rain. No one exits the door. He starts his car and drives home, thinking about Rittenberg.
People can seem so ordinary on the surface, but scratch the veneer and there’s always a secret beneath the gloss.
MAL
November 1, 2019. Friday.
When Mal and Benoit arrive at Rose Cottage in search of Daisy Rittenberg, they see a dark-gray Audi parked in the driveway. They exchange a quick glance as Benoit pulls in behind it. Their headlights illuminate the Audi plate, but it’s so plastered with mud that it’s illegible.