A villain in the midst

After Joseph had left, Sean and I returned to the lounge to a subdued atmosphere. Children's voices still echoed down the stairs, but our world had changed.

Sean eased himself back into the recliner and sprang the footrest. "These are not the same clowns who were at the airport," he said definitively. "It doesn't feel the same. This is more professional, more threatening." He patted Aunty, returned from Jason guard duty, and she growled.

"I agree. This is someone who knows about us, and understands the box and its value."

I lifted a crystal glass decanter and poured us both a tumbler of whiskey. The amber fluid burned my throat as I sipped. "They know the brothers' involvement too."
Sean nodded.

I ruminated for a few minutes as I swilled and then swallowed the alcohol. "Just have the one, Sean," I emphasised, as he downed his drink in one with a satisfied gasp. "Let's take the dogs for a walk to the lakes. I need a break and some air."

At the words "dogs" and "walk", Bourne jumped up, his tail thrashing to and fro. Maybe fresh air would clear my mind. I was deeply disturbed and worried about my two Jewish friends.

*

Over the months of Becky's pregnancy and throughout Wesley's illness, Jason had hardly showed his face. He'd appeared once Wesley returned from Great Ormond Street -- for a brief respite -- just to assure himself that a "cancerous gene" did not threaten him. He worried about no one, cared for no one apart from Jason Gould.

The remarkable recovery of Wesley had intrigued him. He'd wondered what had resulted in his son's amazing cure. Jason did not believe in God. His god was money: money and success. His commercial antennae were twitching. He needed data. He tried to get close again to Becky, after all, they had been lovers, but she rejected his charm.

"OK. The bitch won't talk. I'll try the hospital, and if that fails, I will talk to the kid," Jason reasoned to himself, "after all, he is mine." Once Jason had a goal, very little could hinder his pursuit.

The doctors and nurses at GOSH were tight-lipped. "Confidentiality crap," Jason mouthed, feeling that they were thwarting him personally. But Jason always bounced back.

On a business trip to London well before Wesley's seventh birthday party (his father had entrusted the negotiating to him) he'd decided to have another try at the nurses on the fourth floor. Jason's father and mother had never met their grandson and had only heard rumours. Consumed with "the bottom line", they had pushed their "boy" into making money in their antique business.

Jason sat on a plastic chair in the parents' waiting room on the fourth floor, sipping coffee from a vending machine. "Tasteless shit," he muttered under his breath, his face etched with displeasure. His face lightened when an attractive nurse entered the room. Her crisp red and white striped outfit showed off her figure. As she bent to fill a cup with water from the cooler, she noticed Jason eyeing up her legs, and smiled to herself.

"You want a coffee?" Jason asked. "Or would you like something stronger?"

"Not on duty," she giggled. She was six weeks into her new job but she was not new to a pick-up line, although it had been a while since she'd heard one.

"Maybe after work then?" Jason said, with predatory ease. Bold, arrogant and tireless in the chase when he smelled blood.

"Err...OK...Meet me here at five?" she replied. Then when she pushed the door open, she asked awkwardly, "You're not a parent, are you?"

"No. Not in the way you mean anyway." Jason reeled in his prey. "My boy was here some time ago." His eyes searched hers for sympathy.

"Oh I see. Well I gotta go. See ya at five," she called and left the room.

"Result!" Jason said aloud, a grin spreading from ear to ear.

Later that night, the nurse told Jason everything she knew about the "miracle boy". Cured, it seemed, by something his family had brought back from Israel.

The circle of people who knew about the leaves grew by one. Later, it was to grow by several more when Jason made a phone call and began a new job with Leitz, a huge pharmaceutical firm in Strasbourg. His starting bonus was a brand new red Porsche Carrera. He had pieced together bits of information and used them subtly to open a door at Leitz.