Essence of Time

By Gareth Wilding-Forbes

Take time to savour the gentle essence of romance engagingly portrayed through the nearly James Bond adventures of Jonathan Hayes-Walker, in this escalating tale of wealth, greed and corporate intrigue; spanning continents, cultures and characters resulting in a climax you won't expect, in a story you won't forget.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tellwell Talent
• Release date: Apr 29, 2013
• ISBN: 9780987563965

Gareth Wilding-Forbes

Gareth Wilding-Forbes was born into a theatrical family and followed his parents into a career in the entertainment industry.His experience has covered most aspects of entertainment, in Australia and overseas, as an actor, director, broadcaster and in management.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

It was dark and cold. The building looming up in front of him showed no sign of life except for a light in one window at the base, almost covered by bushes. Jonathan felt he shouldn’t be there but didn’t know why.

Had he asked the ‘Key of Seven’? No! Why not?

He was almost at the bushes now, approaching the lit window. Suddenly the ground in front of him started to open up, forming a hole, which, try as he might, he couldn’t stop himself falling into. It felt like slow motion as he started to fall, tumbling over himself, trying to grab a hold, yet knowing there was nothing to hold on to. He could see the bottom rushing up towards him as he gathered speed. An anguished cry for help echoed around the abyss as he braced for the impact …

He woke with a start and it took a little while before he realised it had all been a dream. He was in his own bed—and it was Sunday morning. But it had seemed so real. What did it mean? What was he doing near that building anyway?

They were questions he couldn’t answer, but he was left with a strong and frightening premonition that his dream was not without meaning.

He lay still for a few minutes as the knot in his stomach relaxed and the very real fear he had experienced dissipated. As he lay there his mind started to wander to his new project. Jonathan Hayes-Walker was a writer. He had recently completed a book of short stories all based on the theme of love. Now he was planning a corporate adventure. He found the hardest part of writing was sitting down and turning on his computer. He always tried to find other things to do, which was ridiculous because he had a natural talent to create fantasy based on fact.

After taking a shower he dressed in a loose-fitting tracksuit. He was just over six feet tall, in his early forties, and even allowing for the greying hair, which was starting to thin on top, he still felt he looked better than most men his age. By nature he wasn’t really vain but having spent most of his life working as a professional actor, mainly in film and television productions, he instinctively tried to maintain his appearance. He swam or went to the gym four or five times a week. He walked up stairs instead of using escalators or lifts and he was constantly aware of what he ate though he didn’t consider he had a food fetish.

The ringing of the phone brought him back to the present.

‘Mr Hayes-Walker?’ The voice had a strong Oxford accent with a slight flatness of vowels. Without waiting for a reply the caller continued, ‘My name is Prusar. We met briefly last weekend at the wedding.’

‘Yes, of course. How are you?’ Jonathan groped through his memory, trying to put a face to the name.

‘Mr Katani would like you to join him for lunch today at the Anglesea house. He will expect you at one o’clock.’

At the mention of Katani everything fell into place—and identified the man on the other end of the phone. At the wedding Jonathan had attended the week before, the caller, a tall dark man, rarely left Mr Katani’s side. Surprised and intrigued, Jonathan accepted the invitation enthusiastically. An Indian who had migrated to Australia with his family in his early teens, Katani had amassed a fortune through property development, shipping and other interests. Through affectation he was known simply as Katani. His friends called him either Katani or KT but everyone else prefixed it with Mr. His property company was known simply as KT Developments.

Jonathan sat for a few moments taking all this in and asked himself, Why me, why lunch and why so bloody far away? The mystery of it all was rolling round his mind as, after changing into trousers, shirt and a reefer jacket, he drove out of the driveway and steered his ageing red MG TD south towards Geelong and the picturesque Great Ocean Road.

It was a good hour and a half’s drive, over the Westgate Bridge, down the Pacific freeway and along the Corio Road. He had plenty of time to think.

He had been to the Anglesea house ten days earlier to pick up a Rolls Royce Corniche which Katani was lending to his friend Stella Manos, for her wedding. Stella was a cousin of Zoe Vlahos, currently the most important person in Jonathan’s life. He had agreed to pick up the car, chauffeur the bride and groom on their special day and return the vehicle to Anglesea the following Monday.

For Jonathan, driving the Corniche was the stuff of dreams—and Zoe knew it. He had always promised himself that one day he would own a Rolls Royce and was secretly chuffed by guests at the reception who intimated they thought he was the owner. Once the wedding was over Jonathan had revelled in driving the borrowed coupé with the hood down and felt pangs of regret when Monday dawned and he knew his little excursion into his ultimate in luxury on the roads was drawing to an end.

He met Mr Katani and his wife at the wedding reception and the only comment about the car was that it would be returned the following Monday. As he remembered this brief meeting with Katani he also recalled the tall Indian with the pukka voice who was never far from his side.

Fresh sea air on his face reminded Jonathan that he was almost at his destination. For the past twenty-odd kilometres he had noticed signs stating ‘This block of land is being developed by KT Developments’ or ‘KT Developments is building a multi-functional shopping centre on this site’. KT was doing ‘this’ and KT was doing ‘that’. It appeared that KT Developments owned or leased most of the vacant land in the area.

He stopped at one of the developments so he could stretch his legs. He was impressed with the artists’ impression of the planned shopping centre which apparently would have apartments above. It was obvious that a lot of thought had been put into the ecological aspect of the development with trees and Australian native bushes in all the public areas including the planned car park.

As he continued his journey he reflected his surprise that people would want to live so far from Melbourne but then he had to admit that he was very much a city person while at the same time admiring the beauty of the locations and their close proximity to stunning beaches, which the Great Ocean Road was known for.

The Katani compound came into view. It was set back from the road on the southern side of Anglesea, overlooking the sea. An imposing three and a half metre high stone wall rose on three sides, with the fourth protected by a steep, rugged cliff, that dropped into the ocean.

Jonathan slowed to a crawl as he turned off the road into the short driveway leading to the compound. At the gates a disembodied voice greeted him, ‘Good afternoon. May I help you? Please speak into the speaker on your right.’

‘My name is Hayes-Walker. Mr Katani is expecting me for lunch.’

‘Of course sir,’ came the muffled reply. ‘Please proceed up the driveway to the main house. Kindly park next to the Lamborghini and Mr Katani will meet you.’

The gates swung open and he drove to his assigned parking spot where Katani, a short Indian–Asian man in sandals and casual clothes, was waiting. He greeted Jonathan with a warm handshake and invited him into the house, politely inquiring as to the ease of his trip south.

They entered a large indoor sunroom which not only had a 25 metre pool in the middle, but also a fully equipped, open-plan kitchen where a cook was preparing lunch. It smelt good whatever it was. ‘I hope the short notice was not an inconvenience,’ Katani said as he escorted Jonathan to the poolside table set for lunch. ‘Please take a seat,’ Katani continued. ‘I felt it would be more convenient to have lunch out here. We won’t be interrupted by other members of my family.’

Jonathan felt this required a reply although he felt a bit overwhelmed by the setting. ‘I find this very relaxing. Do you use the pool very much?’

Katani half smiled and admitted ‘Not enough.’

Without asking, the cook placed a delicious-smelling assortment of fish in the centre of the table and proceeded to serve.

When they had both been served, Katani, indicating Jonathan’s plate said, ‘Please enjoy. Would you care for some wine with lunch?’

‘No, thank you. But please, don’t let that stop you.’

‘No. It’s against my beliefs.’ A sly smile slid over his face. ‘You must be curious as to why I invited you to come all this way.’

Jonathan smiled back. ‘I am sure it was not just for lunch.’

Katani suddenly looked very serious. ‘I want to offer you a proposition,’ he said.

Jonathan stopped eating and said, ‘Mr Katani, I’m flattered but I am also confused. When we met last Saturday at the wedding I didn’t discuss a position or provide any details about my background. I have no experience in land development or construction—and it would appear that these are your prime business interests, at least in this area.’

Katani held up a hand. ‘I know a great deal about you, Mr Hayes-Walker, I know that you are familiar with various European cities which you visited when you worked in management for a ballet company. I know that you were an actor in the West End of London and have been on television in England and Australia. You were not the most successful actor, but at least you made a living. You have been married twice, the second time for only a very short duration. You have two daughters by your first wife and they live in Sydney. They are both married and have children of their own. You are very close to them since their mother died some years ago. You enjoy the company of beautiful women and you are currently very attached to a lady who is not in love with you, but with whom you feel very comfortable.’

Jonathan had lost his appetite and was starting to feel like an insect under a powerful microscope.

‘Mr Katani. I find all of this rather offensive, but I am a guest in your home and do not wish to appear rude.’ He pushed his chair back and stood up. ‘If you will excuse me, I would prefer to leave.’

Katani again held up a hand, locked his eyes with Jonathan’s and, without a flicker of a smile said, ‘Please hear me out. I think you will be interested in what I have to say.’

Jonathan sat down again as Katani continued.

‘First let me apologise for referring to your personal life. I just wanted you to know that I am very much aware of your background and present circumstances. That is why I feel you are the right person for a very special job, although that is not a word of which I am particularly fond. I prefer to think of what I am going to suggest as an assignment. Perhaps the first of many. That is, if you will consider it.’

By now Jonathan was fascinated and wanted to hear more. He nodded.

‘I have a daughter who will inherit a considerable amount of money when she turns twenty-five in a month’s time. She has not been in touch with me for more than a year and I want you to find her.’

Jonathan’s feeling of confusion bubbled to the surface again. He couldn’t restrain himself. ‘Mr Katani. If I may …’ Katani nodded in agreement. ‘I am naturally aware that you are a very wealthy and therefore a powerful man. I know that your business investments include property development, automotive importation and shipping. With all that, I have to ask why you don’t employ one of the excellent international agencies available to someone in your position.’ Katani seemed very interested. ‘You must have used an agency to check me out and they obviously did a thorough job.’

Katani held up a hand saying, ‘Please Mr Hayes-Walker, let me enlighten you on that point. My wife and Ms Manos have been friends for many years and like all women they talk about mutual friends and in Ms Manos’ case she talks about her cousin Miss Vlahos. Naturally before I was prepared to let a stranger drive one of my cars for a weekend I wanted to know about your background and that is where Ms Manos was very enlightening.’

Jonathan smiled. ‘Thank you for clearing that up. But it still doesn’t answer why you shouldn’t use an international agency or one of your own trusted associates or staff.’

Katani thought for a moment then, pushing his chair back to give himself more comfort, said, ‘No matter how good an agency, where large sums of money are concerned, there is never a guarantee that information won’t get into the wrong hands. For reasons which I won’t discuss here I am convinced that someone is plotting against me and therefore my interests. That is also why I can’t give this assignment to an associate because I am not sure which ones I can truly trust. Suspicion of those close to you is odious but sometimes a necessary evil.’ Katani paused before continuing. ‘It’s a matter of business. As you said I am a very wealthy man involved in many diverse enterprises. My daughter inherited thirty million dollars when her grandmother died. It was placed in trust until her twenty-fifth birthday, which is the 26th of September this year. My daughter is what you may call a free spirit. She receives a monthly allowance from the interest of her trust fund and for the past twelve months she has been travelling the world, enjoying herself. My concern is that she will … no let me correct that, has attracted the wrong type of friends who I am sure are only after her money.’

Jonathan interrupted. ‘Please. Could you stop there for a moment. This sounds like a very bad B-Grade movie plot. I’m not sure whether this is some kind of joke but I do feel it is at my expense.’

‘I assure you Mr Hayes-Walker. I am very serious.’

‘Okay. Why me?’

‘Because I believe you are a highly intelligent man who knows his way around Europe and can fit well into any situation.’ He paused. ‘For example, at the wedding, nobody would have dreamed that the Corniche was not yours. You have style, breeding, and, I assume, a love of fine things. All of which can be yours if you accept my offer.’

‘I’m sorry. I’m totally confused.’

‘May I continue?’ Katani rose from his seat and started to pace up and down alongside the pool. ‘I am aware that my daughter has made some very poor choices in friends. However, I believe they are only a smokescreen. I want her found and I also want to know with whom she is in a relationship. I know that somebody is trying to jeopardise some of my business negotiations. Too many things have been happening in recent months that are not normal and I am convinced that certain information is being leaked, perhaps via my daughter, to someone who is determined to ensure that my current negotiations do not reach a successful conclusion.’

‘But how could your daughter be doing this and, more importantly, why?’ Jonathan asked incredulously.

‘As a director of my company she receives confidential reports through her solicitors in London. I am unable to force them to tell me where she is because they are employed by her and are honour-bound to respect her wishes. I could take them to court but that would take months. I only have four weeks.’

Jonathan looked puzzled.

‘You see, with her inheritance at the age of twenty-five, my daughter also becomes a joint partner in my business, participating in all my business ventures. That was a clause my mother requested be included in her will.’ Again Jonathan raised an inquiring eyebrow which didn’t go unnoticed by Katani. ‘You see whatever success I am having in business is due to my original inheritance from my father who made a fortune growing coffee in Argentina. He died when I was quite young but my mother carried on with the business until I was old enough to take over. Since then I have expanded the business to encompass many other interests. More so than my father, my mother was always my mentor and there was never any doubt that I would comply with her wishes even though she has now passed away.’

He looked up sharply as if he had said something he wished he hadn’t. Jonathan met Katani’s eyes and knew that this conversation would never be referred to again.

Regaining his composure, Katani continued, ‘Let me outline what is in it for you. Your book, The Nature of Love will be published in London ready for Christmas. With the right publicity I can assure you that it will be a success. It may even have the potential to be made into a television series. We could discuss this at a later date.’ He paused as if thinking. ‘You will have an unlimited expense account during the assignment. I want you to give the impression of being a successful author who is researching his next book. That will be your cover story. I think that is the correct expression. If and when you are able to provide me with the information I require, you will receive a lump sum payment of one million dollars, tax free, which will be placed in a Swiss bank account for you an hour after you accept my proposition.’

‘And if I can’t find her or the information?’

‘Then I’m afraid you will only receive the equivalent of five hundred dollars per day for the time you spend on the assignment. That is the daily rate of pay for a B-class actor I believe.’

Jonathan nodded, appreciating Katani’s knowledge of the world of acting and the associated rates of pay. ‘And my book?’

‘That will be published, as I said, whatever the outcome.’

Jonathan thought for a moment. ‘Your offer is very generous and I’m flattered that you feel I’m the right person for the job, but I would like time to think about it.’

‘Time is a valuable commodity. I expect your decision within twenty-four hours.’

‘You will have it. In the meantime …’ He folded his napkin and stood up. ‘Thank you for lunch. If you will excuse me, I have a long drive home.’

Katani nodded and accompanied him out.

As Jonathan turned the key in the ignition, Katani leaned down and said, ‘I will wait for your call. I am sure I do not have to instil in you the confidentiality I expect … he paused, ‘whatever your decision may be.’ He turned and walked inside, closing the door without looking back.

Jonathan drove out of the compound.

As he drove he went over every word of the strange, though very interesting discussion he had with this fascinating man. It seemed uncanny how Katani knew so much about him. Even the fact that his relationship with Zoe had become strained lately. But at the same time he appeared to be an honourable man.

In the sunroom Katani returned to the luncheon table as his housekeeper efficiently cleared the dishes, allowing himself the rare luxury of reflecting on days gone by. Picking up a photograph of his daughter, his mind went back almost twenty years to the Sunday mornings spent at the Serpentine in London’s Hyde Park with Narat, then only six years old. It was a regular weekly ritual. He would read the Sunday papers while she fed the ducks with the bread her mother, Giselle, had packed for her, saying, ‘It is lunch for your friends on the pond.’

Life in those days was good. He was considered successful, the up-and-coming genius of the Futures Market. London was the centre of his life with a small house in Chelsea, an office just off The Strand and enough money to do whatever he wished, whenever he wanted.

His marriage to Giselle had followed a whirlwind romance on his first visit to Paris, seven years earlier. She was the Assistant Manager at the small hotel near the Gare du Nord station where he was staying during a two month stint with a leading French stock brokerage. He noticed her the moment he arrived at the hotel and was delighted a couple of days later when he ran into her at a coffee shop just around the corner. He was still very naïve about approaching women he wasn’t formally introduced to, but was determined to get to know this vision of loveliness. Sitting at the table next to hers, he tried not to make himself noticeable. Instead, when the waiter approached, he ordered coffee and croissants in English, knowing this would be received with the blank stare which the French usually give to people who do not try to speak their language.

‘Pardon, monsieur, parlez-vous français?’ inquired the waiter with a bored look on his face.

Struggling, Katani lied, ‘Non.’

Shrugging his shoulders, the waiter looked around in desperation.

As Katani had hoped, a voice from the next table interrupted. ‘Per’aps I may be of assistance?’ Looking at the waiter, Katani’s dream lady said, ‘Ce n’est pas comm qu’on parle a un visteur de passage dan notre pays! Ce monsieur voudrait un café et des croissants, s’il vous plait,’ which Katani knew translated to ‘That is no way to speak to a visitor to our country. Sir would like a coffee and croissants, please.’ Realising from the tone in her voice that he had been put in his place, the waiter nodded and shuffled away, muttering to himself.

Turning to his benefactor Katani smiled saying, ‘How very kind of you Mademoiselle. Would you do me the honour of joining me?’

She looked at him with a smile and nodding said, ‘That would be nice.’

Picking up her bag she moved over as Katani turned towards the disappearing waiter and called out, ‘Les cafes, s’il vous plait, Monsieur.’

‘Your French is excellent Monsieur. I noticed how good when you checked into the ’otel.’

Although shy with women, Katani had never been one to avoid the truth. ‘Please don’t be angry. It was the only way I could think of to attract your attention. I was sure you wouldn’t let me go without my coffee.’

Giselle threw back her head and laughed then gave him the most delicious, understanding smile he had ever seen.

In the following four weeks they became almost inseparable, spending every spare moment together. She showed him the sights of Paris: Musee du Louvre, the Arc de Triomphe, Notre Dame and the Champs Elysees. He in turn took her to the ballet, the opera, dinner at Montmartre and on long walks by the side of the Seine.

They would meet two blocks from the hotel to ensure their anonymity and Katani would always watch from a distance to make sure Giselle returned safely each evening.

In the first flush of romance they felt like children—although with reservations. It was almost two weeks before Katani reached for her hand as they strolled through the Sunday market. Giselle reacted by releasing his hold and taking his arm saying, ‘In Paris, holding hands is for lovers. Good friends are more reserved.’ That evening as they said goodnight to one another, instead of kissing Giselle on the cheeks, Katani took her face in his hands and gently kissed her welcoming lips. As he started to withdraw she placed her arms around him and held him close, prolonging this intimate show of affection.

The next day Katani had to leave for a brief visit to Monte Carlo and they didn’t see each other until his return on the Friday afternoon. As she handed him his keys and messages she whispered, ‘Are you free this weekend?’

Surprised, Katani replied, ‘I’ll make myself available.’

Smiling, Giselle suggested, ‘I finish at eight o’clock. I’ll meet you at Le Café.’

‘I’ll be there,’ he replied, barely containing his happiness, though realising they had to maintain a professional appearance for Giselle’s sake.

For the next two hours he felt on cloud nine. Thoughts raced through his head: What is she going to suggest? Does she feel the same way as I do? How do I feel? God, I love her. That’s for sure.

He showered and shaved before taking his time to select a smart casual shirt, trousers and reefer jacket. He had decided not to wear a tie after Giselle had accused him, jokingly, of looking like an English Lord.

She arrived just after eight, smiling when she saw him sitting at what had become their table. After exchanging kisses she sat down and ordered supper for them both. He couldn’t contain his curiosity any more. ‘What’s this all about? What have you got in mind for this weekend?’

‘Would you like to come away to the country to meet two very special people? I know you’ll like them.’ He looked confused as she smiled and said, ‘Please. It would mean a lot to me.’

‘How can I refuse you? Of course I’d like to. I’ll hire a car in the morning. What time would you like to leave?’

She laughed. ‘You are so easy. Don’t you even want to know who they are?’

‘Well, yes, I suppose so. But it doesn’t really matter. I just want to spend time with you. Anywhere.’

They drove out of the city just after ten, Giselle suggesting that she drive so that Katani could enjoy the scenery. ‘And besides, I know the way.’

‘Who are we visiting? At least tell me where we’ll be staying,’ asked Katani, feeling a warmth in his heart that he had never experienced before.

‘That’s all been taken care of, and you’ll know who soon enough. Just sit back and relax. We’ll be there in about an hour.’

Almost to the minute they drove into the driveway of a modest, well-kept house which reminded Katani of an English country cottage. Hollyhocks lined the driveway and a lush green lawn took up most of the front garden.

Before they had time to turn the engine off, a middle-aged man appeared at the open front door, accompanied by an attractive woman dressed in smart slacks and blouse, who gave a welcoming wave as they both approached the car. Katani remained in his seat as Giselle got out of the car and embraced the couple enthusiastically. Finally, in answer to her beckoning, he climbed out and walked around the front of the car. Laughing, Giselle took his hand, which didn’t go