Chapter 46
Chapter forty-six
Bess
As Ed and I approach the gallery a low-slung, expensively curved car races along the street towards us going far too fast for the urban speed limit.
On his way past, the driver, Jason Travers, grins at me and offers a middle finger.
It's not the gesture that surprises me, or the speed at which he is recklessly driving. It's the car.
"What's his problem?" asks Ed.
"Did you see who it was?"
"No."
"Someone who shouldn't be able to afford a car like that in any universe."
We turn into the laneway that runs adjacent to the building.
"I don't think I've ever seen one of those in the flesh," Ed says. "Mercs and Beemers are two a penny around here, but not Maseratis."
"No. And definitely not for the calibre of the likes of him."
"Who was it?" asks Ed as he pushes the door to the workshop open and holds it open for me.
I walk in to see we are the last ones to arrive at Tuesday Night Art Fight, which isn't surprising given that our second day of after-work bedroom activities turned into a dedicated study session and then a desperate need for sustenance.
All conversation stops as we enter.
"What?" I ask.
"You've never arrived together before," says Elly.
"And?"
"Well," says Jeanette, "we were just discussing how dreamy you were at work today, Bess."
"And now you two walk in together," adds Elly.
"You didn't even tell me to put the effing muffler on the bean grinder," says Lutek.
"Or me to wear a hair cap," says Elly.
"Or me to do some serious hauling of arse. Not even once," says Jeanette. "Not even when we had eight tables that needed clearing and a queue at the coffee machine."
I look across at Ed who's doing an exceptional cat and cream impression.
Elly wags a finger at me. "You behaved very a-typically today – suspiciously happy for someone who's facing a massive business upheaval."
Carlos says, "You had the same look in your eye as Gorbachev the day he ceded power to Yeltsin and dealt the death blow to the Soviet Union.
He seemed positively skunked. Not because he was partial to a bit of the old cheeky green, but because it was Christmas Day and Reagan had given him the baby to complete his Walnut Squirrel Sylvanian Family set. "
With an "Oh. My. God", Elly throws her head back and jerks her hands up towards the ceiling to appeal to the judiciousness of whatever's up there.
"Ah," says Ed. "Would he have celebrated Christmas?"
"Officially? No. Unofficially? The jury's still out on that one. Russia's best kept state secret. Not even the informers on the pay roll are willing to divulge it."
"Can we please get back to the fact there's a great big suss bucket in need of spilling?" says Elly.
Ed edges in a little closer to me. We haven't discussed telling the others about the change in our relationship status, but as it seems the moment is imminent, his gesture feels like solidarity. Or comfort if I needed it. Which I absolutely don't.
"And?" I ask.
Elly steps up to Ed and runs a finger over the inside-out seam of his T-shirt with a "Hmm."
He winces and looks at me apologetically.
Then she inspects my face.
I eye her defiantly.
"Is that stubble rash on your chin, Bess?"
Behind her, Jeanette winds up a squeal and flaps her hands, a grin on her face.
Elly turns and walks back to her station. "You're right, Lutek. He's definitely boned her."
As Jeanette's squeal opens to a full-throated "Yes!" and Lutek says through a down-turned mouth, "I didn't say 'boned'," Ed reaches for my hand and squeezes it. The smile he slides my way is amused and happy. Contented even.
I return it.
"Jolly well done, old boy," says Carlos.
"Yeah, respect, Ed," says Elly. "I honestly didn't think you had it in you."
"Neither did I, to be fair," Ed replies.
"We need to drink to it." Jeanette rushes around gathering mugs. "You two are something we have to celebrate."
Lutek locates a bottle of wine and everyone gathers around us, cups in hand.
"So how did it happen?" beams Jeanette.
"It sure as shit wasn't Ed coming clean," says Elly. "I bet Bess had to beat it out of him."
"Pretty much," Ed agrees.
"I didn't have to beat him. I did have to do some yelling, though."
"Ah, yes. Your trademark foreplay technique," says Elly with a wink at Ed. "Like a bit of the rough stuff, do you Ed?"
"Can we do the toast already?" I say. "I'd quite like a drink please and for you all to shut the hell up."
"Alright," says Elly, raising her mug. "To Ed and Bess finally getting their shit together."
"We can't toast to that," says Jeanette. "It's a lovely thing and it deserves lovely words. To Bess and Ed for finally finding each other."
We clink mugs.
As I take a sip, Lutek says, "I'm really happy for you both. You deserve it."
"Thank you, Lutek," says Ed.
"We do deserve it, don't we?" I smile at Ed. After all the loneliness and bad romantic experiences each of us has had, it's absolutely our turn.
"Right. So now we've solved that problem," says Elly like she had everything to do with it, "What are we going to do about the rent hike?"
Jeanette reaches across Carlos and briefly grabs my forearm. "How long can all the money our art raised from the auction financially carry us?"
"A few months at a guess." I haven't crunched the figures.
"So we've got a bit of time to find an alternative gallery space?" asks Lutek. After a pause, he adds, "And metal workshop."
"And me and Jackson to find another home," says Elly, glancing at the baby monitor. “One we can afford.”
I sip from my mug and hold the wine in my mouth for a moment before swallowing. "I think if we solve The Odour's financial woes, he won’t raise rents."
"We're already going to be solving his financial woes," says Elly, "by paying him the new exorbitant rate."
"No. I mean by getting back the money he lost." It's a bold statement and one I didn't know I had in me until a few minutes ago.
Nobody says anything for a beat.
"How on earth do we do that?" asks Lutek.
"Pull up a pew." I place my mug on the concrete floor and walk over to collect my chair.
When everyone's reformed the circle in seated comfort, I continue. "The Odour lost his money to a phishing scam. An AI deepfake of his favourite investment guru."
Elly blows air through her lips in a raspberry. "He's buggered then. He can kiss goodbye to ever seeing it again."
"How do you know this?" asks Ed.
"He opened his heart to me yesterday afternoon. Spilled the whole sorry story as a very backhanded form of an apology for what he's doing to us now."
"I don't understand," says Jeanette. "How are we meant to recover money that will never see the light of day again?"
I lean back in my chair. "Who do we know who has a record of AI deepfakery?"
"I don't know anyone," says Jeanette.
"Me neither," says Lutek.
Elly narrows her eyes. "Jason mother-funking Travers."
"Jason mother-funking Travers," I confirm.
"Is that the guy we just saw driving a Maserati?" asks Ed.
"The very one."
"A Maserati?" says Elly. "How can that mouth breather afford a car that could cover my wages for a decade?"
"Wasn't he complaining about the cost of retreads just a few weeks ago?" says Lutek. "On your TikTok."
"Yes he was." I take a sip of my wine. "And now all of a sudden he appears to have the kind of money normally associated with oligarchs and Sunday Times rich list-ers."
"Surely it's legit," says Ed. "Nobody would be stupid enough to flash about a suspiciously instant accumulation of wealth."
"Oh no. He's stupid enough alright," says Elly. "I've heard him brag about his petty criminal activities in the pub. He's got just enough smarts to get away with doing the dodgy stuff he gets up to, or just enough luck."
Ed raises his brows. "And you're suggesting he's able to mastermind conning someone out of a huge amount of money?"
"Any muppet with a subscription to an AI video generator can make something convincing," I say, paraphrasing The Odour's words. "The voice cloning stuff is unreal. It doesn't take any kind of technical wizardry – just someone dumb enough to be suckered in."
"Is Jason Travers the angry-looking boy with the baggy pants and backward cap?" asks Carlos. "Looks like an over-cooked potato?"
"The very one," I answer.
"I've seen him talking to the Pinkerton fellow a couple of times when he's been on the way to visit you, Bess. They tend to undertake a kind of hand slap ritual and do some unnecessarily loud laughing. They did something with their phones the second time."
"Probably exchanging socials," says Lutek.
I’ve seen it too. They talked the day The Odour tried to get me to sell the terrible painting by his associate’s girlfriend. "So The Odour takes the opportunity to be all street with a local lad, not realising he's providing Jason with a chance to scope him for a scam."
"I'm not sure," says Jeanette. "Are you sure?"
Letting out a long breath, I pause before saying, "There's just too many coincidences for my liking."
Elly's phone vibrates and she peers at the screen. "I think we hit the jackpot." She looks up at us. "I just asked Tommy Hurst, who's Jason's best friend's cousin." She turns her phone around so we can all see the texts:
Conning it out of some dumbass who drives a jag with WEPN on num plate
Toff was asking for it
Ed shakes his head. "What is it with lack of brain cells and modern crooks? Is self-incrimination a thing with the lawbreaking youth?"
"So do we go to the police?" asks Lutek.
"We could," I say. "It would take a while to get the money back, if the scrote hasn't panicked and disappeared it. And we might have to keep paying the new rent in the meantime."
"You said 'we could'," says Ed slowly. "What's the 'or'?"
"Or..." I peer down at the contents of my mug and give it a swirl to allow the tension-creation pause to gather full strength. Then I look up.
"We scam him back."