Chapter 6

Kate stood outside the door of his flat. She looked at the key in her hand and then, energised with sudden decision, she used it to unlock the door and enter. It was strange; being here uninvited, she wondered how long she was going to have to wait. Always before, there had been a purpose to her visits; even if they were only to make sure that the plants were watered. As she thought about this she stuck a finger in the nearest plant pot. Amazingly, the soil was damp, showing that he'd watered them fairly recently. More than once she'd had to resurrect or replace his plants. Finding that even this simple activity was denied her, she sat on the settee and prepared to wait.

She picked up one of the magazines on his coffee table and flicked idly through it, not seeing the editorial or the advertising. She dropped it carelessly back on the pile. This disturbed the magazines and the corner of a bank statement was exposed. Without understanding why, she pulled the sheet free. The name at the top of the statement was unfamiliar, the address was correct, but who the hell was David Swanston? She noticed the legend 'Final Statement' stamped across the paper. Intrigued, and in spite of her natural misgivings at invading someone else's privacy like this, she examined the statement in earnest. The first thing that she noticed was that it was an annual statement and that there was very little activity; just a payment in every six months and a standing order each month. Something about the amounts caught her eye. With a terrible yawning sensation in her stomach, she realised that the amounts and the dates corresponded with the payments that Jenny had been receiving. As final confirmation, she checked the account details with the ones that she had copied from Jenny's file.

They were the same.

Kate dropped the sheet of paper as if she expected it to burst into flames. She didn't know what to think. One thing was clear: Andy had a lot of explaining to do! She looked up and saw him in the doorway. She screamed in shock.

"Andy!"

She could see the blood draining from his face. Without a word, he turned on his heel and walked quickly away. A thousand unanswered questions swirled around in her head, paralysing her into inaction. By the time that his presence had registered, he had disappeared.

.oOo.

Kate was getting really worried. No one, not even his office, had heard from Andy for nearly a week. Increasingly frantic calls from Kate to Sally had yielded no information at all and Kate was sure that Sally, for all her professional aplomb, was worried too. Kate sat at her desk and mulled over the problem of the bank statement. The best that she could come up with was a hitherto unsuspected brother; she shook her head at this absurdity, but could think of nothing better. Her reverie was interrupted by a knock on her office door.

"Kate, there's a messenger with a package."

"Can't you handle receiving a package?"

"It's for you and he won't leave until he sees you with it in your possession and you have to sign for it. I tried to tell him that I sign for everything, but he is adamant."

Kate sighed and followed Janet out to the reception area where the messenger was seated with a briefcase chained to his wrist. He looked up at her arrival.

"I'm Kate Taylor."

"Have you some form of identification, preferably with a picture?"

"Umm, I think so. Janet, could you get my passport please?"

The man took the document from Janet and examined it carefully, checking that it had not been tampered with in any way. Only when he was sure that it was a genuine, unaltered passport did he compare the photograph with the real thing. Kate shifted nervously under his intense scrutiny. Finally, he appeared satisfied that she was who she said she was. He unlocked his case and extracted a bulky envelope. There was a sheet of paper attached to the front of it. He handed it to her.

"Would you sign the receipt for me please?"

Kate did so and returned the pen. The man tore off the paper along the perforations and placed it back in the case, which he closed and locked. After which he bade them good day and prepared to leave.

"Wait! Can't you tell me anything about this?" Kate waved the package at him.

"Sorry, I'm only the courier. I'm sure the answer's inside, though."

With that, the man turned and disappeared through the door.

"Cool!" This was Janet. "You know he had a gun too?"

"Oh come off it! This isn't America, you can't wander the streets carrying guns, you know."

"I don't care, I saw the bulge." She thought for a bit. "Well it was a weapon of some sort anyway."

Kate ignored her. She carried the package into her office and placed it on her desk. She stared at it as if it was a bomb or contained live spiders or something equally skin-crawling. Then it occurred to her that staring at it would not tell her anything about the contents, and so she opened it.

Inside were a couple of large thick envelopes; each of these was addressed to Jennifer Wilcox. Kate wondered why they had been delivered to her. Along with the two large envelopes were two letter-sized envelopes. One was addressed to Jenny again and the other was addressed to her. Kate opened the letter and began to read.

Kate,

By the time you read this, I will be gone. Please don't try to find me, not that you will want to when you have know what I have done. When you have finished this letter, will you take the three other packages to Jenny? They are my final act of atonement.

Jenny is the girl that I tried to help and failed. Twelve years ago, she and I attended a party. She was still a virgin. At the party, she was gang-raped, and I was one of those who raped her. I have no excuses; I even enjoyed it at the time.

So now that you know what worthless scum I am, please find it in your heart to deliver the packages to Jenny. She will need your support once she has seen the contents.

If my solicitors do not receive an acknowledgement that she has read this set of documents within a day, then a duplicate set will be delivered to her. So you see you have no choice in the matter.

I realise that you hate me now, for my part I will be glad that I had your affection, if only for a short time and under false pretences.

Sincerely,

David A. Swanston

The bald statement of the facts inflamed her. Kate was furious. Part of her realised that there must have been mitigating circumstances, but the rest of her insisted that had there been, then Andy, no David she corrected herself, would have used them. In the meantime she was still dancing to his tune, as she had to deliver the packages to Jenny. The bastard; why couldn't he leave her alone? Wasn't it enough that he had raped her? She flicked the intercom switch.

"Janet, call me a cab and get Jenny Wilcox on the line, as quick as you can. Thanks."

A couple of minutes later the 'phone rang and Kate picked up the receiver to hear Jenny's voice asking if Kate had heard from Andy. Taking a few deep breaths Kate calmed herself before replying.

"Yes, he sent me some documents to bring to you. It's about what happened to you at college." She took another deep breath. "Jenny, he was involved. Look I'm coming over. I won't be long."

The journey to Jenny's flat was a short cab ride, but it seemed like an eternity. All the time, the words from the letter reverberated inside her head, 'I... raped her. I enjoyed it... '. Like an evil mantra, by the time the journey was over Kate was raging, had Andy appeared before her then, she was so furious that his life would have been at risk.

Jenny opened the door and reeled back at the fury in Kate's eyes.

"Kate what is it? What's wrong."

Unable to speak, she showed Jenny the letter. As Jenny read it, the colour drained from her face and she sat heavily onto the nearest available furniture.

"I knew there was something, but I felt so safe." She shook herself and spoke to Kate again. "That can't be all of it. Where are the other packages that he wrote about?"

Kate handed them over and Jenny tore open the smaller envelope addressed to her and began to read:

Dear Jenny,

Words cannot express the depths of my shame at what I will have to reveal to you. I only hope that the arrangements that I have put in place will, in some small way, atone for my disgusting behaviour, and that I will have finally helped you to put this terrible episode behind you.

Twelve years ago, you attended a party. You may not remember the details as Steve Sloan drugged you before you got there. He met you at your flat and gave you a high dose of a drug - a precursor to GHB or Rohyponol. Within minutes, you were left without volition and without inhibition. A further side effect of the drug is that you are unable to recall events that took place while you were under its influence. He apparently persuaded you to strip and transported you to the party nude.

Soon after you arrived, he arranged for everyone at the party to have sex with you. By then, you were fully under the influence of the drug and in the grip of Steve's suggestions, so, to a casual observer, you were a willing participant. However, since you were in no fit state to give consent of any sort, what happened was nothing less than rape.

I am one of those who were duped by Steve and his accomplices into raping you. For this I am eternally sorry. I am tormented each night by the thought that I helped to rape a virgin and only the fact that it will soon be over is all that is keeping me going.

The one bright spot in this otherwise sorry tale is that I managed to get you away from the party and into the arms of your friends. Ever since then, I have attempted in a small way to help you. I'm the one who has been making the payments into your account for the last ten years. It was all I could think to do. Now I am in a position to do more.

The thicker of the two packages contains sworn statements from everyone who attended the party, if they were still alive. If they have died or disappeared, there is a biography.

The other envelope details a trust that I have set up for which you are the sole beneficiary and trustee. It is in two parts: firstly, the firm DAS Investigations, and secondly, a substantial sum of money. You, through the trust, are now the sole owner of DASI. The interest from the cash should be sufficient to live as you do now, the income from DASI should keep you in modest luxuries. On your death, the trust will revert to charitable status and the income will be used to support rape victims.

I hope that, in time, you will come to hate me less and that you will find peace. I'm sorry that I won't be there when you find it.

Sincerely