Someone's In My Head (WATTYS AWARD WINNER 2015)

Chapter Seventeen

Finally, Phil decided to break the awkward silence. "Does the word 'FallopFix' ring any bells in your head, Lenny?"

Now I noticed two things. Although the question was apparently directed at Lenny, it was Tanya who flinched, as if she'd been stung by a bee. Lenny, on the other hand, appeared cool and composed, the frown on his forehead being the only sign that suggested he might have recognized the word.

"Truth be told, I believe I might've heard that word somewhere..." Lenny's frown got deeper. "But I can't seem to place it."

Then he too noticed Tanya's sickened expression. "Are you okay, Tanya? Too much wine?" Lenny held his hands forward, ready to support Tanya if she passed out any moment now.

Phil smacked Lenny's hands away. "Get your filthy hands off her!" he growled.

Lenny's hands flew into the air. "Wow, man. Chill." He squinted his eyes at Phil, and I caught a hint of disgust in his expression. "What's wrong with you, mate? I'm only trying to help."

Only trying to help. I snorted impassively. This guy is getting better by the minute. Give him an hour and he'll beat DiCaprio to the next Oscar.

Phil was thinking the same thing. "'Only trying to help'?" Phil sneered, mimicking Lenny's protest to the utmost precision. "Say that to the ten years of my wife's life she wasted in Chambers'!" He spat, furious.

Once again, I noticed Tanya flinch at the name of the mental institution as it was mentioned. Phil, consumed by anger and anguish, was oblivious that his words were doing more harm than good to his wife.

"Look, man," Lenny splayed his hands out in an exasperated attempt to convince Phil. "Tanya's...condition was unfortunate, and I understand that. It is possible for somebody to lose her mind when she loses someone she cares about very deeply―"

But Phil wasn't convinced. Honestly speaking, I wasn't about to buy Lenny's simple and convincing explanation either. Although the guy actually seemed sincere enough in his conversation with Phil so far―genuine expression, no slip-ups, etc.―I still felt there was something behind that compelling disguise. Something sinister.

"She did not lose her mind!" Phil interrupted, furious. "You made her lose her mind! You and that damned blasted drug!"

I could see that with Phil going into conniptions, Lenny's initial confidence had deflated a little―but just a little. The experienced liar composed himself once more and put on a dead serious, stoic composure. "Very well. If you're not going to trust my word on the obvious and irrefutable fact―that I had nothing to do with FallopFix and your wife's institutionalization―this meeting shall be at a stalemate. We could both leave this place, and the meeting would never have taken place."

He did not say it out loud, but I could hear the implicit message behind Lenny's words. And you will never get the answers you so desperately seek.

Phil considered his words for a moment. Finally, he turned back to Lenny, his expression neutral. "Fine. But how do you explain the chauffeur-assassin?"

Surprisingly, Lenny broke into a wide smile. "Now we're talking business." He strode over and slid a card over to Phil, who grabbed and examined it.

"This is the card of the chauffeur agency that sent the agent we requested to facilitate your transportation to Chambers'. When you went off the grid, I contacted the agency, asking them to track the status of that particular chauffeur." At this point, Lenny paused briefly, and Phil lifted his gaze off the card and fixed it on Lenny.

"You could imagine my surprise when they informed me that the chauffeur had also vanished off their tracking system, both car and man." Lenny must have sensed the slight tinge of doubt in Phil's eyes, for he shrugged and continued. "Believe it or not, but I have two theories: first, is that the assassin had murdered/taken out the original chauffeur and took his place when he was on his way to LAMRAED."