―Erica Jong
I spent a restless evening turning over in my mind the disturbing details of Meredith's interview with Simon Pollock. There was no doubt that the man could be intimidating and Mer had every reason to be frightened.
Unfortunately, there wasn't much we could do right now except continue our investigative reporting and to try to learn exactly what was going on inside the Enigma Club...
and that would entail persuading a whistleblower to come forward.
It wasn't an impossibility, just highly unlikely considering the kinds of far-right extremists that surrounded Pollock, the kind who would dutifully carry out his orders to silence all opposition.
It would definitely be an uphill battle.
The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart, I mused cynically, feeling that our battle would probably be as futile as Sisyphus in the Greek myth endlessly rolling an enormous stone uphill only to have it roll back upon him.
My restless evening became a sleepless night and finally I gave up even trying to rest and got out of bed just past 7 am .
I showered and sipped coffee waiting for the time to pass until I could meet up with Mer for breakfast at our local Tim Horton's coffee shop.
My brain was filled with intrusive thoughts and graphic fears of Mer and I being stalked by Pollock's version of the Thought Police who were out to silence us.
I was tempted to tell Mer we ought to call off the whole enterprise―after all, what were we trying to accomplish? We weren't equipped for this and it could be dangerous.
Around 8 am, I began to get nervous when Mer didn't show, but I figured the events of the previous day probably exhausted her and she overslept.
I'd give her an hour before I'd try texting or phoning so she could at least get some sleep.
But by 9 am I was worried. I messaged her with no reply and then tried phoning. Now I was becoming panicky so I gathered up my things and headed out to her townhouse, but bumped into her on the way out the door.
I spontaneously hugged her and babbled on about how I had been worried, half-expecting her to laugh and say she had simply been delayed, but that wasn't the response I got.
Her face was pale and drawn and she simply murmured, "I need coffee and then we have to talk."
"Sure, sure," I reassured her and guided her back into the window seat I previously vacated.
I ordered two coffees and two toasted cheese croissants with jam―her favourite snack and prayed it might comfort her.
We sat in silence for a few minutes while she sipped the hot brew and pulled apart the croissant and nibbled on the pieces she dipped in jam.
I wanted to pepper her with questions, but resisted the urge figuring it best to allow her time to decide when she was ready to converse.
"He was waiting for me when I stepped out of my townhouse," she whispered suddenly. "There was a black limo and two of his security guards and they didn't say a word but just guided me directly to his limousine."
"Please, come and sit with me for a moment, Meredith," he smiled, "I thought we might continue our conversation from yesterday over breakfast at Coros."
Mer practically spit out her hatred for Pollock.
"I was furious, especially the way I had been strong-armed by his thugs."
"I have a breakfast appointment, Mr. Pollock," I told him, "and I don't appreciate your showing up unannounced at my private residence and being manhandled by your goons."
"I apologize if I offended you, Meredith," he told me charmingly, "I just wanted to make sure we were both on the same page when it comes time for you to air our interview."
"I wasn't buying his soft manner," she growled, as she recounted the scene to me.
"I think you're scared, Simon―scared the public might learn some details of what's really going on behind the door of the Enigma Club. I know all about the 'secret fantasies' you provide and the way you exploit people's sins. It's sick and I find you disgusting and I will expose you and take down your little empire brick by brick."
"I don't know what you're talking about, Meredith, but if I were you, I'd tread carefully."
Mer broke off her narration and stared out the window, trying either to settle her thoughts or get her emotions under control.
"I'm sorry you had to endure that, Mer. I take it you took his words about treading carefully as a veiled threat and I don't blame you."
"They were a veiled threat, Logan. The man will stop at nothing to silence any opposition."
I was livid and had to measure my words carefully.
"Well, that's it―we need to contact the authorities and tell them what we know and what Pollock said."
"No! No police, Logan―at least, not yet. We don't have enough evidence to bring charges and maybe Pollock will think he scared me into submission. I want to dig deeper and see if we can uncover a witness who will talk."
I knew she was right, but if Pollock was as ruthless as we thought, it wouldn't help to accuse him if we ended up dead.
Thank you!
Brilliant story, John, loving it.