by Norman Heldon
Simon Deller's shop in the best part of the city offered expensive jewellery and objects d'art. He'd had another shop downtown but that had been cleaned out in a robbery, and with the big insurance payout he had opened again where he could attract wealthier clients.
As Helen Kouras smilingly completed the sale of a bracelet, she saw David Allen, the young jeweller, hovering nearby with what was evidently his latest creation. It pleased Helen that David always showed them first to her. She sat, accepted the brooch and admired it. It had a base of delicately wrought gold filigree, above which was a circle of tiny diamonds, atop that a ring of pearls surmounted by a ruby.
"Exquisite, David. It will certainly make some woman happy."
Pleased, David lingered to talk about its making.
The office door opened and Mr. Deller approached. With a mere nod he dismissed David who, somewhat abashed, retired quickly to his workbench.
"Mr. Deller," said Helen, "Isn't this a lovely brooch?"
Deller glanced at it.
"Yes, it's quite nice. Should soon sell".
"Like all David's work," she enthused, still admiring it.
The first thing one noticed about Simon Deller was the profusion of black hair. It was cut low on his forehead, the beard merged with sidelevers, moustache with beard in which there were flecks of grey. He favoured expensive suits, silver-grey and of a shiny material. Nearing forty, tall but becoming overweight, he was quite an impressive figure, in his own opinion definitely, as Helen had discovered.
With his face quite close to hers Deller said softly, "I'm taking you to Randwick races on Saturday, dinner afterwards at Guiseppi's. As usual," he added, "wear your choice of jewellery."
Helen paused before replying.
"Well, er - yes, thank you."
She'd begun to resent though, the proprietorial air he'd adopted. It had been exciting at first, being escorted to the races, restaurants, theatres and clubs. The pair of them attracted attention and that had been flattering. But oh, what a boring companion he was, interests centering around horses, food and wine, money and himself. David was much more fun to be with and except for height, a complete contrast to Simon Deller. A boyish looking twenty-seven, two years older than herself, he was slim, fair, liked to dress casually, was modest and had a great sense of humour.
"Helen", said Deller, "I'd like you to type a few letters now. Albert will look after the shop."
Albert kept the accounts and helped in the shop when needed. At the boss's call he came quickly from his little office within the main one.
"Yes Mr. Deller. Certainly Mr. Deller."
His usual obsequiousness, thought Helen.
Albert was in his fifties, of middle height, tubby and with quite short legs, on which he almost ran, as if always hurrying to keep up with someone. He read thrillers all during his lunch hour, Helen knew; knew too that he was a bit of a gossip and had no doubt told Mr. Deller that she and David went always after work to a nearby coffee shop. She said as much to David over coffee that evening.
"Well, it's sensible to avoid the peak rush," he said. "Besides," as he looked appreciatively at Helen, "it really makes my day."
"Would it worry you if you thought that Mr. Deller was jealous?"
David's eyebrows lifted.
"Come to think of it, he sure was a bit curt with me this morning."
"Yes." Helen gave a little grimace. "I'm sorry I agreed to go out with him again on Saturday. I had no excuse ready - but it will be the last time."
David, looking over her shoulder, remarked, "Albert has just gone past at his usual trot, heading back towards the shop. Saw us and waved."
Helen seemed deep in thought, so David waited. She was sure worth looking at, he thought.
At last she said, "Mr. Deller's a strange man. I think he would like to be part of the jet set group, but he doesn't seem to be accepted. He's anxious to impress them, and I feel I'm part of the game plan."
David grinned. "I'm getting jealous too. It might end in a duel, pistols attwenty paces, as in the good old days."
Helen laughed.
"Can't blame him though" added David, "for wanting to take you out.
Honestly, Helen, you're beautiful enough to be say, an actress, or a model."
"Do you think so? As a matter of fact I did stint at a modelling school a couple of years ago."
"You'd make a stunning model. Why did you give it up?"
With a shrug, she replied, "It seemed so artificial, unreal -all that posing, posturing. I found it hard to relax and be myself."
"And that is?"
"Simple, down-to-earth country girl."
David thought that over.
"Country girl, eh? You might care to go with a party to the gemstone diggings."
"Yes, I'd love that."
It's a deal. Well now, here comes Albert, heading for us. Briefcase swinging. Looks in a dither."
Albert was in fact so excited he found it hard to speak, and when he did the words came tumbling out.
"There's something queer going on at the shop. I'd left my wallet on my desk, you see - went back for it - let myself in quietly without switching on the lights - went to my office. Then I noticed a light on in the storeroom, Mr. Deller keeps that key, as you know. He was in there, and two other men. The back door to the lane was open, and one man was carrying a lot of small bags to a truck. But the other man" Albert's excitement peaked, "he was counting out money from a big wad of notes. He gave a swag of them to Mr. Deller who put them into a suitcase. I was scared, and didn't want them to see me, so I slipped out as quietly as I went in. Hoped I'd find you still here. "Well," he concluded with an air of mystery, "just what do you make of that? I have my own suspicions."
"You're sure a bundle of nerves, Albert," said David. "Sit down and calm down. Can I get you a cup of coffee?"
"N-no thanks."
"There's a simple explanation no doubt," David went on. "Mr. Deller's a well-known and reputable businessman. Maybe he's storing some goods for a friend."
Albert shook his head solemnly.
"There's something else you should know."
Helen glanced at David with raised eyebrows as if to say, "Now what?" "Mr. Deller," said Albert, "personally banks a lot of cash from time to time. Shows up in the accounts of course. Without that money the business would fold up. We just don't sell enough, that's a fact."
"Have you been reading too many thrillers, Albert?" queried Helen.
"No, no. And what about Mr. Deller's new Mercedes, harbourside home, yacht, and goodness knows what else?"
"A rich uncle may have died, left him a million," said David, "or he's a lucky gambler. Go home, Albert, have a drink, a good dinner and sleep this off. Tomorrow is another day."
Albert looked most disappointed, like an airman who'd dropped a bomb that hadn't exploded. Grabbing his suitcase, he strode off with just a parting shot.
"Time will tell."
"Time will tell", echoed David, gravely, as Albert left the shop.
Helen laughed. "But seriously, it is puzzling. If we didn't know about his devouring thrillers..."
"Well, he's got it off his chest. I don't think he'll rush off to the police and make an ass of himself."
"Take your own advice then David, and forget it. I was enjoying our tete-a-tete. If we stay much longer we'll be handed the dinner menu."
"Perhaps they're lenient with happy couples".
"Hm. Happy couples. I like that," said David, with a wide smile. "After Saturday," said Helen again, "I will drop Mr. Simon Deller." "Hard or soft landing?"
She laughed. "Oh David, you see the humour in so many things. It will be interesting to see though if he wins a packet on Saturday."
As it happened, Deller lost. Helen won a little on a horse called Star of David, backing it because she thought, David's Star is rising and Deller's sinking."
The dinner at Guiseppi's was as usual excellent, music and the singer easy to listen to. They danced now and then. Deller greeted a few acquaintances, but they sat at a quiet table for two. Helen was pleased when, earlier than she'd expected, he suggested leaving.
I'll really be glad to get home, she thought.
After a few minutes driving, however, she remarked, "I'm lost. Which way are you going?" "A little surprise, my dear Helen. I decided to show you my new apartment overlooking the harbour. Refurnished, redecorated. You'll love it."
She pursed her lips at this liberty of his, to her the height of bad manners. Well, Simon Deller, she thought, I'll make it clear tonight that I'm not one of your possessions.
His home, on the tenth floor, was luxuriously furnished, but not to Helen's taste. Obviously the work of an avant-garde interior decorator, a place to admire perhaps, but not to feel comfortable in.
Deller began to pour drinks.
"Not for me thanks, Mr.Deller."
"Simon."
"O.K. Simon. A cup of coffee will suit me fine."
"Just as you say."
While he was busy in the kitchen, Helen went to the balcony to look at the harbour scene. Here at least was something to enjoy -- narrow shimmering paths of reflected lights on the water, swiftly moving lights of traffic on the Bridge, the Opera House a fairy palace, and just below a couple of ferries with late passengers were gliding by. A million dollar view, she mused, and thought of Albert's story of men moving mysterious parcels from Deller's storeroom. Absorbed, she didn't notice him beside her.
"Nice, isn't it?" he said. "My yacht is moored below, a hundred and fifty thousand dollar's worth. Must take you out in it soon."
No, thank you, thought Helen. Then his arm slipped around her waist, she said quickly, "I'm starting to feel cool. Mind if we go in?"
"Certainly not -- coffee's ready."
She made the mistake of choosing the twosome lounge by the coffee table, and he seated himself beside her, with his bulk too close for comfort.
They took a few quiet sips.
Then looking straight at her, he said, in his silkiest tone, "Helen, my dear, you could share all this with me."
Surprised and embarrassed, she replied, "Simon, if you're proposing marriage, I assure you that it just hasn't entered my head."
"Nor mine either," he replied coolly. "Marriage? I didn't say marriage. The ceremony's often by passed these days isn't it?"
Helen finished her coffee as quickly as possible and got to her feet.
"Take me home, Simon".
"What, so soon? The night is young. Ring your-er-Aunt is it? Say you're staying the night with a girlfriend."
The man's ego was incredible she thought. Angry, but a bit scared too, she repeated, "Take me home - now! My Aunt knows I'm with you, of course."
He seemed to be struggling to control himself, but at length he said, "Well all right."
He fetched her coat, helped her slip it on. His hands lingered on her shoulders, and she tensed again. The moment passed. He conceded defeat and drove her home.
Her Aunt, bless her, had waited up.
"Did you have a nice time, dear?"
"Yes thanks, Auntie. Rather tiring though. I'll turn in right away." She was close to tears, actually.
Helen decided, after some agonising, to go to work on the Monday.
Conscientiousness? David's being there? To show Deller she was finished with him? A bit of each, probably.
Deller, however, was not there. He had, said Albert, left on an unexpected overseas trip. He'd be back late in the week.
"At least," said Helen to David, "I'll be free of his attentions for a few days."
With a grin, David said, "I'll see that you don't get lonely."
Albert, in charge, fussed around looking important, his mind however still on his sleuthing, as Helen discovered, seeing him rummaging through drawers in Deller's desk.
"Tenacious old bloodhound," commented David. "For all his deferential antics towards the boss I think he'd like to see him nailed on a criminal charge."
"It is possible that he's right" replied Helen, quietly.
She didn't mention her scary Saturday evening, but she was beginning to wonder whether Deller's life did indeed hold a mystery. She shrugged it off however, and stayed to watch David working on a bracelet in the form of a serpent with two small garnets for its eyes.
"Precious stones," said David, as he fitted one, "all have meanings."
"Yes I know," she said brightly, "the topaz means friendship, and it scares away nightmares." "No, not that. Heavenly meanings."
"Sounds interesting. Why?"
"Because God made them that way."
"You speak in riddles. But sorry, I must go, there's a customer coming in." And after that, more customers.
It was however, a quiet, uneventful week. Deller made his appearance on Friday. To Helen's relief, he said little to her, yet was quite pleasant.
He was though surprisingly friendly towards David, appearing to take a real interest in him and his work.
"David," he said, examining a ring the young man had made, "I've decided to send you on a study and buying trip to Malaysia and Thailand."
David, astonished, protested that he was quite happy as he was, making jewellery. Deller, however, brushed that aside.
"You will have introductions to merchants and jewellers and it will be a most interesting and useful experience. I intend to expand my business, and believe me, you have a very bright future. Your flight's booked by the way for Sunday week, 6.15 pm to Kuala Lumpur."
He patted David on the shoulder.
"You'll have free time for sight-seeing and shopping and I'm giving you a liberal spending allowance. This afternoon you can apply for your visa."
"Just like him" was Helen's comment. "Not, would you like to? All arranged, like it or lump it."
"I know it's very generous of him," said David, without enthusiasm, "and most would jump at it. He could see I wasn't keen, but insists that he has a great future in mind for me. As you know, I just want to be a jeweller."
He paused, and glumly added, "Do you think that if I made that quite clear to him ---?"
"It wouldn't make a scrap of difference. Cheer up, David. Over coffee this evening I want you to talk to me about precious stones and heavenly meanings."
"You haven't forgotten."
"Well," she began brightly, when they were settled in their favourite corner of the shop, "precious stones have meanings because God made them that way. Explain the mystery."
He smiled. "You're determined to drive gloomy thoughts away. All right, there's no mystery. God, in His love and wisdom, created all the good things we see and use on this earth, so everything, in its unique way reflects that love and wisdom. All precious stones turn the rays of light into very beautiful colours and are symbols of the radiance of heavenly wisdom. Love is warm, so red stones, like rubies, speak to us of God's love. Also --"
He stopped, but then added with a smile. "That's enough for Lesson One." "O.K."
She studied him for a few moments.
"Religious, eh? That's a bit of a surprise, David."
"Is it? Seems pretty sensible to me. Where else would you find that life has a meaning?"
"Do you belong to a Church?"
"Yes, the New Church."
"Never heard of it."
"Helen, your education has been sadly neglected. What about yourself?"
She smiled. "My name is Greek, of course, and my parents are staunch Greek Orthodox. I just drifted away."
"Greek! Of course; why didn't I think of it before? Helen, of Greece, with the face that launched a thousand ships. Helen of Sydney would launch two thousand."
Helen laughed. "You'll make me conceited. Two rowing boats are more like it." With a straight face he said, "I've never told a lie in my life."
"Seeing you're a religious man I suppose I must believe you," she said, with a smile.
David looked at her intently.
"Helen, I've just remembered something - something very important to me." From his wallet he took a piece of paper and unfolded it.
"May I read a poem?"
"Sure, did you write it?"
"No, my dad. I'll speak it slowly, just as he recites it. It's called "THE JEWEL OF LIFE."
Joy for Love's Newness,
Trust in Its Trueness;
Ages Old Romance,
The Flower's Fragrance;
Soul's Serenity,
Minds in Unity;
State That Is Vernal,
Life That's Eternal;
O Welding Flame,
Lit In Its Name,
And Rarest Jewel,
Is Love Conjugial.
"I like it," Helen said, "and I'd like a copy. By the look of the paper it's been in your wallet a long time."
"True, for several years."
He paused, looking at her thoughtfully.
"To tell the truth I've been waiting, hoping one day I'd find the right girl to read it to."
Looking straight into his eyes, she smiled.
"And --?"
"And now I've found her."
Silently they looked at each other for a minute or so. Their hands met across the table, in a firm grasp.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
At the airport, Helen, disconsolate, watched a big plane climbing steeply till it disappeared in a darkening sky. Sad, more for David than herself.
"Poor David," she murmured.
He had tried to be cheerful, but after the last goodbye kiss it was an obviously unhappy young man who made his way slowly along to board the plane, turning several times to wave.
Engrossed in her thoughts, she didn't notice Simon Deller approaching. "There was a long phone call," he said. "Sorry I didn't make it to say goodbye to David."
Helen wasn't sorry.
"Frankly, Mr. Deller, David doesn't like the idea of the new career you have in mind for him."
"When he's my right-hand man, Helen, he'll make a lot of money."
"He doesn't care that much about money. He's not the ambitious get-rich quick type."
"Like me, for instance?"
"If the cap fits --" she replied.
Deller noticed the ring on her finger, and she saw the look of annoyance, almost a scowl, that crossed his face.
"Yes, David and I are engaged. Believe me, we are very much in love."
"Another man loves you too."
Simon Deller, she thought, you don't know the meaning of love.
They were walking towards the exit. Deller as usual was impeccably groomed. A couple of days before at the coffee shop she and David had amused themselves suggesting words beginning with 'S' that fitted him. Suave,sleek, smooth, self-assured, self-centred were some. David baulked at her suggestion of 'sinister'. Helen knew at least that the interior didn't correspond with the faultless exterior.
Deller's sudden interest in David puzzled her. It was certainly not a sudden surge of pure generosity.
"Well, dear Helen", he said, and she winced at the word 'dear' -- "let me take you to dinner now; your choice of restaurants."
"No, thank you, Mr. Deller".
"Simon."
"Alright - Simon. But I'm going straight home. I'll get a taxi; David's car wouldn't start this afternoon."
Surprisingly there were no taxis at the time.
"There soon will be one," she said, "Or I can catch a bus to the city and then a train."
"Nonsense," said Deller, "let me drive you home at least. I promise you'll be there in about twenty minutes."
Maybe I'm misjudging him, Helen thought, but rather reluctantly she went with him to the Mercedes.
It was a quiet drive at first, Helen disinclined to talk. Deller unusually subdued and thoughtful. A sudden change had brought a drizzle of rain and visibility wasn't good. She wished he didn't drive so fast.
Finally, she broke the silence.
"Why didn't you send Albert Smithers?" she asked. "He's been with you for a long time, and he understands the financial side too."
"Smithers is too old. This is a young man's world. David's smart and he'll learn quickly. A couple more trips like this one and he'll be on top of the world, business-wise, money-wise."
"A super salesman? No Simon, it won't work out, I'm afraid. David was most unhappy about going, even nervous. He felt, I'd better tell you, that this would be his first and last trip - anywhere."
Deller turned and looked at her in surprise, seemed startled even. His eyes were off the road for a couple of seconds too long. Approaching a bridge, the car missed a bend. It crossed the footpath and crashed through the railing. Momentarily, the big white Mercedes hung on the edge of a long drop; then a solitary onlooker watched in horror as the car plunged down, rolling and twisting as it went. The watcher covered his face with his hands as it hit concrete below with a sickening thud. Seconds later a flash and flames leaped. But the pair in the car knew nothing of that. They were lifeless. Helen Kouras and Simon Deller had begun their transition into the spiritual world.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Simon Deller, having been in the spiritual world for some time, had resumed the kind of life he had lived on earth. He had an office and again he traded in jewellery and objects d'art. He was fast becoming known for his astute business dealings. Never one to make close friends, he was seen nevertheless in the right places socially. Life in fact was little different to what he had experienced on earth -- that is, until the arrival of the Examiners.
Two men, tall like himself and dressed soberly, came to his office, and asked him to accompany them. Actually, Deller had expected that there could be an investigation into his business affairs. Some of his transactions lately had been shady and those who had traded with him were mostly the losers. Yet he was adept at keeping the law on his side. There was no proof of dishonesty, he was sure of that.
"I'm a very busy man," he protested.
"Still you must come," said one and there was unmistakable authority in his tone.
Deller shrugged his shoulders. With a nonchalant air he put on his coat. They took him to a ground floor room in a large building. There was nothing to suggest a police station or a courthouse, and the room itself was not a forbidding place. Deller breathed freely. Confidently he faced the two men.
"I'm ready gentlemen, if you are."
Instead of replying the two moved close to him. One began a penetrating inspection of his face and the other of his hands. Deller showed amused surprise. There was a period of silence, the two intent on their work.
Finally, looking intently at Deller, one spoke.
"You are a thief," he said.
Deller laughed.
"Preposterous! Do you have any proof?"
The other man replied. "The proof is written ineradicably on the body of your spirit, every single detail."
"This is complete nonsense," declared Deller, "written on the body of my spirit. I'm no spirit!"
"You have forgotten." replied the Examiner, "what you were told when you first entered this world, that you are now a spirit, and have a spiritual body."
"While you were on the Earth," added his companion, "the thoughts and actions of your will formed the character of your spiritual body, and not a thing can be erased."
Simon Deller passed a hand across his eyes in a slightly troubled manner.
Then he looked at his hands and his clothes. He felt them. They were real. He was reassured. No, he was no spirit.
"This accusation is completely false," he cried. "Proof! What proof have you?" "You shall have proof," was the answer.
'You defrauded an insurance company of a large sum after faking a robbery at your shop. You hid the jewellery and later sold it. With the insurance payout you opened another store."
Deller began to feel uneasy. Not that he showed it; he would bluff this out. The other Examiner spoke.
"That is one of the least of your crimes. You became a dealer in narcotic drugs. Your lust for wealth drove you to profit by the corruption, degradation and misery of many people, some little more than children."
"It is a lie," shouted Deller, his face flushed with anger. "I agreed to store goods for another man. I had no idea drugs were hidden in the bags."
"It is no lie," continued the Examiner, relentlessly. "The man you brought the drugs from in Thailand has confessed and is about to be arrested for drug trafficking."
"And for being an accessory to a murder," said the other man, and he snapped "You are THE murderer."
Deller's face blanched, but with a supreme effort he controlled himself. "It's all lies, lies. I tell you. I'm a reputable citizen. There are many who will testify to that. I've never killed a man in my life. You should know that. If this is blackmail-------."
An Examiner broke in, "You were furious because the girl you wanted, and wanted to seduce what's more, seemed to be falling in love with David Allen, a young jeweller in your employ. You sent him on a so-called business trip, after writing to your criminal associate in Bangkok requesting that Allen be killed, but in such a way that it would appear to be an accident."
Deller sat down heavily, gripping tightly the arms of the chair, tense, frightened, as every bit of the veneer of his honesty and respectability was remorselessly ripped away.
"Your letter was addressed to that man, Sun Lee Kwan," one of the men continued. He gave the date of the letter, and repeated it word for word as Deller had written it.
Still Deller somehow regained composure. The man was a consummate actor. He stood up; even managed a smile.
"Gentlemen," he said, "a great mistake has been made. I assure you I was a great friend of David's. How I would like to see him now. I would show you."
In reply, one strode to where curtains hung in front of French windows. He drew them aside and beckoned Deller, who looked out at a spacious lawn bordered by flower gardens. His attention was drawn to one spot where a man was moving. It was David Allen.
Simon Deller was about to turn to the others with a beaming smile when someone else appeared. It was Helen Kouras, and she stepped onto the lawn quite close to David. He saw her and moments later they were in each other's arms.
The effect on Deller was startling. He could never bear to see them together. An ugly expression replaced his smile, an expression in which were mingled hatred and revenge. He gave a loud cry, threw open the doors and leaped on to the lawn. Murder blazed in his eyes. Helen and David did not notice him, seemed unaware of his cries.
But Deller suddenly stopped, shuddering as from an electric shock. Throwing his arms wildly as if in excruciating pain, he fell to the ground writhing.
The watching men in the room looked at each other.
"The sphere of conjugial love," one said, and his friend nodded, for they knew that the would-be attacker could not bear it, nor could he penetrate that sphere.
The man on the ground had managed to roll away, winning some relief from his pain. He struggled to his feet, and began to run, madly, like a hunted animal. He seemed gripped by fear, escape his only thought. The men watching could see that it was no longer a handsome figure that bounded and leaped away, but some misshapen thing. Then, as he rushed along, even his surroundings changed. Instead of green and pleasant lawn, there was now a desolate-looking place, a wilderness of rocks and bare earth. He came to a part where caves had opened up among the rocks, and suddenly noticing one of these caves Simon Deller gave a loud cry and hurled himself into it.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
David and Helen began to walk, admiring the gardens.
What glorious flowers," said Helen, holding David's hand tightly.
"Yes," replied David, "you would think they were alive. They seem as happy as we are."
The New Church Hurstville