murdering Richard?’ Bryan started. ‘No, I don’t suppose he did. He hid behind the screen in the library where Sarah and Richard were to have dinner together that first evening they, ah …
‘Laird took a pistol from Richard’s private collection. A lovely piece it was too except that the stupid bastard didn’t have a clue about what he was doing and loaded it with the wrong bullets. Even Richard couldn’t decide whether the gun would simply misfire or blow up in his hand.
‘Seefan said that he had sent a note to Sarah but Richard was away ahead of him as usual. He intercepted it, read it then had Seefan deliver it.’ This time Carl laughed openly. ‘The image of Laird emerging from behind that screen with Richard right behind, his gun pressed tight against the back of Laird’s head. Priceless, that’s what it was; priceless. Richard scared him so bad he wet his pants.’
‘What was Laird doing here in the first place?’ Bryan asked.
‘Richard was asked by …’ Carl turned back to the whiskey decanter to freshen his drink. ‘It’s not important.’
‘Carl, I know Richard worked for MI6. I know what service he provided them and how good he was at it.’
The two men stared at each other; both trying to determine who was in the best position to claim the moral high ground. ‘And what service was that again, Scott? I’ve forgotten.’
‘Richard was a Double-O-Seven although no doubt he was much more deadly than either the film persona or Fleming’s literary character. I’m sure his mother would have been very proud of him.’
‘She would have been, Scott. In fact, if Richard could have turned the clock back I’m sure he would have quite happily disposed of his father, thus saving both his mother and the world a whole hell of a lot of grief.’
This was one subject Bryan was not prepared to engage in. The loss of Richard’s mother Catherine was too great a sorrow for him to bear; sorrow, regret, shame and revenge all blended together, producing as strong a potion now as the one that killed her. ‘What happened to Laird?’
Carl shrugged. ‘He spent the night chained in the basement. In the morning he was shipped out to Peru. Last I heard he was still there, assisting Doctor Santos. Seefan went with him.’
‘Why?’
Carl sat down on the sofa opposite Bryan, his drink cupped between his hands. ‘It was a last-minute decision so we didn’t have a lot of time to say goodbye. She seemed almost in a panic to get away as if … I asked her why she was going and I think that’s when the tears came. She basically told me that she had developed a fondness for Sarah and that she couldn’t stay and see … I remember word for word what she said although I didn’t understand; not then.
‘You cannot stop him and if you want this child you must not stop him’.
‘I’ll tell you Scott that scared the hell out of me.’ Carl sighed. ‘The christening is this Saturday, isn’t it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then afterwards I’m going to Boston. I’ll pry that little shit off his fucking throne if I have to use a crowbar.’
8
August 22nd, 1981
Churchyard, Cavendish Hall
Carl Emery’s relief was almost palatable as he watched Alan Rose make his way through the crowd standing on the lawn outside the chapel. He would pause now and again to shake a hand or brush a kiss across the cheek of some of the women who knew him and loved him.
By the time he reached Carl his natural conviviality had peaked so their reunion was a warm one; almost like family really which isn’t surprising since Carl thought of Alan Rose as almost his natural son perhaps because both Alan’s parents were dead.
Tall, athletic with a crop of light brown hair that was always too long and always unruly, Rose had the natural grace, good looks and charm to not only pass inspection as Develin’s godson but he looked like an escapee from the Kennedy clan. He was twenty-eight years old and a doctor of clinical medicine.
They embraced briefly before Carl stepped back smiling as he checked Rose over, top to toe. ‘Good to see you lad. You look well so obviously the jungles of Peru haven’t done you any harm.’
Rose returned Carl’s smile. ‘Good to be back and yes, it’s been an awesome experience. Seefan,’ he exclaimed as he enfolded her in his arms. ‘Imagine you an old married lady.’ She put her hand to her lips to hide the giggle as she retreated closer to Carl.
The smile on Rose’s face remained even while he scanned the immediate vicinity but it began to fade as his search failed to find what he was looking for.
‘Where is she, Carl?’
Carl nodded towards the mausoleum. ‘Why don’t you go and say hello - to both of them,’ Carl suggested, ‘and baby Richard too of course.’
‘Yeah,’ Rose replied although he seemed almost hesitant as he looked towards the entrance way into the Develin family crypt. ‘How is she?’
‘Well ah … let’s just hope that you prove to be the perfect tonic.
‘Look,’ Carl paused, ‘I need to talk to you as soon as possible. With all the travelling you’ve been doing, I’ve not had a chance to bring you up to date with what’s been going on around here since …’ He tried to smile but failed miserably. ‘Sarah’s been through a hell of a lot lately so …’ He swallowed hard. ‘As I said, we need to talk.’
*****
Sarah was on her knees in front of Develin’s tomb holding baby Richard in her arms, rocking him gently as she talked to her first husband and the child’s father in a hushed voice tinged with such an overwhelming sense of sadness that it should more correctly be simply called grief.
‘Hello Sarah,’ Rose whispered.
Sarah pulled the child closer then stood up ram rod straight before turning around. She stared at Rose with eyes that were filled with tears. She blinked several times trying to clear her vision, sending tears down either cheek. ‘Doctor Rose,’ she said. ‘What … what are you doing here?’
‘Well,’ he began with a nod towards Develin’s tomb, ‘he was my godfather for starters and well, I guess your being here was all my idea.’
‘Your idea?’
‘It’s a long story.’ His voice faltered. ‘He loved you Sarah from the very first moment he saw you.’
*****
Doctor Bryan walked with Alan Rose back to the house. While they walked Rose explained to Bryan just who he was since they had never met.
‘Sarah worked for me in a way, or rather for the research laboratory under my care. It was part of the university really so it seemed natural enough. The poor girl had very little money thanks to her father. Most of the time I had no contact with her whatsoever but upon occasion we would meet and chat. She was not only broke but lonely and I think, very unhappy.
I must have somehow managed to project my concern for her because she began to open up a little. She was studying medicine and doing extremely well. Then one day she told me that she would be leaving Harvard because her father was no longer interested in funding her education. Apparently he had enrolled her in a Medical Secretary course at the local community college and come the New Year, she would find herself back at home living with a father she hated.’
They