Pemberton emerged forty-five minutes later and drove off in a silver Jaguar XJ. I followed him to one of his drugstores and waited for another hour and a half before he reappeared. He was talking on the phone as he pulled away.
Pemberton turned into the driveway of a red brick apartment building that was situated a few blocks off of the main road. A young blonde waited for him at the curb. She was petite and slender; her black sequined dress was probably a size two. She climbed into the passenger seat and kissed Pemberton on the cheek.
I followed the Jaguar to a tapas bar on the main road. I had to work fast, but I caught some shots of Pemberton and the young woman as they left the car with the valet. Pemberton towered over his dinner date despite the fact that she wore heels with platform soles.
I entered the restaurant cautiously. I didn't want Pemberton to recognize me from the interview. I suppose that it wouldn't have mattered - maybe Oskar Düsseldorf enjoys tapas, too - but I didn't want to jeopardize the assignment by raising suspicion.
The young lady smiled and did her best to look fetching during dinner. She was definitely playing the charm card, laughing and tossing her hair back every few seconds. She didn't act like an escort - too young and unrefined. I was having trouble discerning the nature of their relationship.
As the meal concluded, the young lady sat close Pemberton and leaned against his chest. They were an odd pair - Pemberton was well into his fifties - but she seemed to be very comfortable despite the striking age difference.
After drinks and dessert, they left the restaurant arm in arm. Pemberton bent down and kissed her while they waited for the car. He drove her back to the apartment building and accompanied her inside.
I found a parking spot where I could keep an eye on the front door of the building. I could see Pemberton's car as well, a few spaces down from the entrance. He didn't seem to feel the need to park it discreetly.
I pulled the laptop out from my bag and transferred photos from the gym and the restaurant to the hard drive. I pulled up a shot that isolated the blonde, touched it up a bit, and layered her image over a shot of the gym.
It took some effort to blend the light convincingly. The results weren't perfect, but it was the best that I could do given the small number of shots that I had. I exported the image as a JPEG file and copied it to a flash drive.
Pemberton had been inside for forty-five minutes by this point. I took a photo of his car to confirm the location and time, and then drove to a nearby, 24-hour quick copy place. I asked them to print my composite image of the blonde who now looked to be standing inside the gym.
I drove to the health club. It was after eleven, but they were still open. I slid the photo into my satchel and clipped Manny's embarrassing press pass to my jacket.
"Hi, I'm with the newspaper. We were here earlier for a story on the club."
The desk staff looked glazed and confused after a long shift.
"We were reviewing our photo release forms. There's one person that we missed. We can't run the article until we get a signature." I placed the photo on the counter. "Do you know who she is?"
"That's Tatiana," a young woman volunteered. "But she wasn't here today."
"Maybe she just stopped by," I postulated. "What days is she here normally? I can come back."
"She's here on Tuesdays and Thursdays," the woman confirmed.
"Is she a personal trainer?"
"She teaches the ballet class."
"Thanks! You've been a big help."
"Okay, sure!"
"Oh, and we'd like to thank Mr. Pemberton with a gift," I told his staff. "Do you know what he drinks?"
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