The Sacred Knife, page 8
“Is Jason aware of the terms of his parents’ will?” asked Richard.
“Not yet,” replied Wilson “Normally, he would have been present, but under the circumstances I thought it best to inform all of you first. I will go to the hospital and brief him as soon as Dr. Patterson thinks he can deal with it. It might be best if all of you were there.”
The meeting concluded, and George and Hilda indicated they were going to visit Jason in the hospital. They asked if Richard was going as well, but he decided to allow them some time alone with their grandson. Besides, he needed time to think. He was legally responsible for a child, and he was painfully aware of just how unprepared he was for that task.
He knew he had a lot to do but didn’t even know where to start.
Chapter 11
Detective Sergeant Eve Hunter arrived to question Jason two days after he had learned his parents had died in the accident that put him in the hospital.
Hunter was medium height, about two inches shorter than Richard, with dark brown hair that she had tied in a ponytail. She wore a tan pantsuit that made her look desirable, yet without detracting from her professional demeanour. Her eyes were hazel, and Richard thought they reflected an intelligence that one overlooked at their peril.
Jason’s bed had been adjusted so that he was sitting up at an incline instead of lying flat. The IV lines had been removed, but he was hooked to a monitor and an IV port was still taped to his arm to allow for the administration of a variety of painkillers and antibiotics.
His head was still bandaged, and while the worst of the bruising on his face had begun to disappear, enough remained that it looked like he had lost an argument with a locomotive.
Both Richard and Wilson were present, and Richard was concerned that the number of adults hovering over Jason might be intimidating to the boy. However, Richard had to give credit to the sensitivity of the policewoman. She was sympathetic to Jason, and she put him at ease with her questioning techniques, constantly reassuring him.
Rather than immediately asking him questions about the accident, she started a conversation with Jason about the family visit with his grandparents the weekend of the accident. She asked him questions about what they had done that weekend and what they had eaten for dinner, slowly getting the boy talking and remembering without forcing him to immediately relive more painful memories.
Gradually, Jason recounted why they had left his grandparents that evening, later than planned. “My grandparents liked to hear me play the piano,” said Jason. He looked up at the policewoman and gave a little smile. “I liked it too, although I never let on. Mum and Dad were always so happy and proud when I played. I wasn’t that great, but it made them happy.”
He stopped talking, his face clouding over. “Is it my fault? If I had refused to play, we would have left earlier and would not have been driving so late.”
“No, it’s not your fault,” stated the policewoman, her voice taking on a more authoritative tone. “Honey, you had absolutely nothing to do with the accident.”
Jason searched her face, looking for a sign that she was lying to him. She was supposed to say that; right?
As if she could read his thoughts, she continued, “I’m not saying that because I have to, or to make you feel better. I’m saying it because it’s the truth. Believe me; you had nothing to do with the accident.”
“Really?”
“Really,” repeated Eve.
Richard was surprised at how the policewoman allayed Jason’s feelings of guilt. The change in her tone from “sympathetic listener” to “authoritative official” seemed to be effective in dispelling any feelings of guilt Jason might be harbouring.
She was good at her job.
Eve gently squeezed Richard’s nephew’s hand, and he responded with a shy smile. No, she was more than good; she was amazing.
“What music did you play?” she asked, bringing the interview back to the events before the accident. She had reverted to her sympathetic listener mode.
Jason frowned, obviously trying to remember, and then replied, “Different ones. Some Beethoven, and a little Frank Mills.”
Slowly and patiently, she guided Jason’s recollection of the events leading up to the actual collision. However, despite her approach, the boy could not recall anything after his father had turned off the A406 until waking up in the hospital. He was trying hard to remember, and his frustration was beginning to show, his eyes tearing up.
“It’s okay, Jason,” said the policewoman softly. “You have been helpful.”
Why can’t I remember? thought Jason to himself. This woman is trying to find the driver of the truck that hit us, and I can’t remember anything. I’m a useless idiot!
“Idiot!”
They all looked at him in surprise.
Jason’s expression suddenly changed, “Idiot! I remember something. Mum was looking at me, and then she looked up and asked, ‘What’s that idiot doing?’”
“Who was your mother calling an idiot, Jason? Your father?” asked Hunter.
“No. No, Mum never called Dad an idiot, even when she was mad at him. Mum wasn’t looking at Dad.” Jason scrunched his face trying to remember. “I was sitting behind Dad. She was looking towards me … not at me, but at my window. Something dark hit the side of our car.” Jason shook his head sadly. “That’s all I can remember.”
“Thank you. You’re a very brave boy, and this helps us a lot,” said Eve.
Jason definitely did not feel brave or particularly helpful, but he said nothing.
The policewoman straightened up and said to Richard and Wilson, “Thanks to you, as well. We appreciate your cooperation.” She looked over at the bed-ridden boy. “I saw the accident scene, and the condition of the car. It’s a miracle he survived.”
A pained expression came over her. “I’ve seen so many where they didn’t.”
At that moment, her mobile phone rang and she blushed. “Damn, I forgot to turn it off,” she said as she turned away, pulling the phone out of her pocket and switching it off.
Hearing the phone sparked another memory, and Jason cried out, “My phone!”
They all turned to the boy who started talking rapidly, as though he would forget what he wanted to say if he didn’t get the words out. “My grandparents gave me a mobile phone. That’s why I was okay with playing the piano for them. It was kind of like a ‘thank you.’”
Jason was staring at them, but not seeing them; rather he was seeing pictures in his head as the memory replayed itself. “I was playing with it on the way home. I had just figured out how to use it to take videos.” There was more, but he just couldn’t see it. Just more blanks.
His eyes refocused on the three adults. “I’m sorry. I just can’t remember anything more.”
“That’s okay, Jason. You did very well.” Hunter gently caressed the boy’s cheek. “It’s best if you rest now. Don’t try to force yourself to remember. If you do think of something else, let your uncle know and he’ll get a hold of me.”
She gestured to Richard and Wilson to join her outside of Jason’s room.
Once they were in the corridor, Eve said, “The vehicle that had collided with your brother’s car had been reported stolen just a few hours before the accident. We located it a few blocks from the accident scene and are currently checking for prints.”
She continued, “We recovered the family mobile phones from the accident site. The lab has salvaged some data from the phones belonging to your brother and his wife, which are being analyzed now. The battery in your nephew’s phone was completely dead. The lab techs have recharged it, but they haven’t had time to see what’s on it.”
With a tilt of her head, she indicated Jason’s hospital room. “That’s one spunky little guy in there,” she said to Richard. “You must be very proud of him.”
Somewhat embarrassed, Richard admitted, “I really don’t know him that well. I didn’t meet him until a couple of days ago.” Noting the surprise on the woman’s face, he explained, “His father, my brother, and I had not really spoken in almost five years. Of course, I knew they had a son, but aside from a couple of Skypes when he was around five, I’d never actually met him in person.”
He could tell by the look in her eyes that Eve was curious about the relationship with his brother. “It’s a rather long story that would be sure to bore you.” He did not want to mention that the dispute between them was his line of work, and he definitely didn’t want the police asking about that. “So, do you think you will find this guy?” he asked before Eve could ask any questions about the strained relations with his brother.
She nodded with more conviction than she really felt. “Yes, I’m confident we will. We have recovered the lorry, as you know, but unfortunately so far the only prints we’ve been able to lift matched the legal owner and their driver, both of whom have alibis.”
She handed Richard and Wilson her business card. “If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to call me, especially if Jason remembers anything more.”
When the two men went back into the boy’s room, she left the hospital and got into her car. Before driving away, she thought about the boy’s uncle. He was intriguing, and she sensed a strength about him that went beyond physical.
However, there was something else about him that troubled her. She noticed how smoothly he had deflected discussion of his relationship with his brother. Her cop instinct told her he was hiding something—something he did not want to be questioned about. She pulled out her cell phone and punched in a series of numbers.
It was time to find out a little bit more about Richard Carver.
Chapter 12
He was surrounded.
Richard, Wilson, along with his grandparents, had all crowded into Jason’s hospital room.
Jason knew that this was more than just a normal family visit, because they never all visited at once. Jason was a perceptive boy, and he guessed that all of them being here meant they were going to tell him something he might not want to hear.
It also likely meant that they had already discussed the matter before meeting with him—which, for a kid, was bad news. Decisions had been made.
Dr. Patterson and a female doctor had been to see him the previous afternoon. The other doctor had looked at X-rays and poked, prodded, and pulled at his knee. Despite his efforts, Jason couldn’t contain the occasional gasp of pain. They had talked solemnly in low voices. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it sounded serious.
Was that what this meeting was about? Were they were giving him bad news from the doctor? He thought that was a possibility, but then Dr. Patterson was not with them. It must be something else.
It was Mr. Wilson who spoke first. “Jason,” he said, “the reason we’re here is to inform you about the contents of your parent’s will. Do you know what a will is, Jason?”
“Yes,” he said quietly. He almost added “I’m not stupid,” but didn’t.
So, it’s not bad news from the doctors, he thought with relief. Then, the enormity of what Mr. Wilson had said struck him. These were his parents’ last wishes.
Wilson continued, “First, I don’t know how much you know about your parent’s business, Jason, but suffice to say they were very good at what they did.”
Jason merely nodded. He of course knew what his parents did, and he had been growing up amidst a thriving art community. He was not, however, familiar with how the business actually functioned. He knew they were well-off compared to many of his friends, but he never gave it a lot of thought.
“Your parents provided for some money to be given to your grandparents, and more to be given to the University of London to establish an art scholarship fund. The rest of the estate is being held in trust until you are twenty-one, administered by our law firm.”
Jason thought about the money that was being given away. None for my uncle, he noted. Then, why would there be, since Dad didn’t like him? Good! Part of him felt a little guilty at the thought of his uncle being cut out of his parent’s will, but then why wouldn’t they. The man was a stranger.
He had a sudden thought. His parents had always hoped he would go to college someday. “How much money? I mean, is there enough money for me to go to college when I’m older?” he asked. “Mum and Dad want me to go. Wanted,” he corrected sadly.
Wilson smiled. “Yes, Jason. There’s plenty of money. Right now, your fund is estimated at over 170 million pounds.”
Jason couldn’t imagine that much money. He was rich! Then the brief moment of euphoria vanished. He would gladly give it all away if it would bring his parents back.
Wilson waited until the shock passed and then said, “As you are only eleven, a minor, your parents’ will contains instructions on custody and guardianship. In other words, they indicated who would be responsible for looking after you until you reached twenty-one.”
Jason looked over to his grandparents.
“Jason, your uncle Richard is going to be your legal guardian.”
Anyone who saw the look on the boy’s face would have thought he had just been sentenced to execution. The boy emitted a wail of dismay, shaking his head.
“No! No! No! Please, I want to live with Gramps and Grandma,” he implored. He looked at the faces surrounding him; while there was sympathy, he realized that they had already discussed this. He had no say in it.
“Get out! All of you get out!” he screamed.
“Enough!” snapped Richard sharply.
Richard had been prepared for an outburst from Jason but was unsure of the best way to handle it.
Before meeting with Jason, they had met with the psychologist who warned them that Jason’s reaction would likely be very negative. She indicated it wasn’t so much because of the resentment Jason had towards his uncle; it was more to do with a sense of abandonment, especially as all he had left that was familiar to him were his grandparents. Learning that he might be losing that link would be very difficult for the boy.
Richard knew, however, that in order for the boy to move forward, he had to accept the reality of the situation.
“Jason, we know this is a difficult situation for you.” His voice was firm, but not reprimanding. “It is unfair, but that does not give you the right to be rude, especially to your grandparents.”
Embarrassed by the public chastisement, Jason turned away, blinking back tears. Rotten bastard! What really hurt him, though, was that his uncle was right. He was being rude to his grandparents, and for that he truly felt ashamed.
Richard turned to Wilson. “I think we need to meet with Dr. Patterson to get an update on Jason’s treatment plan.” His voice was calm, steady. He glanced over at George and Hilda, expecting looks of disdain for his treatment of their grandson. Instead, they nodded slightly, communicating that they understood the necessity of what he was doing. Once he left they would comfort the boy as only grandparents can.
Richard, followed by Wilson, left the room and leaned against the wall for support.
“Jason had to hear that,” said Wilson sympathetically.
Richard shrugged. “Kid probably thinks I’m a rotten bastard.” He paused then added, “I definitely feel like one.”
He glanced at his hands and was surprised to see they weren’t shaking. Humiliating his nephew had made him sick inside.
Chapter 13
The prowler was concealed in the shrubbery.
It was past midnight, and George Avery remained motionless, hiding in the hedges in the park across from the building housing Carver Enterprises.
Dressed in black, he blended in with the shadows and was virtually invisible in the darkness as he studied the three-story limestone building.
George Avery was his current name, the latest in a long list of aliases that had started with his real name, Alvarez Renaldo, and included Robert Manse and Henrik Mueller.
Over the years, shifting his identity and city of residence had become routine. Initially, the human-demon was concerned about constantly changing his name, but it was actually quite simple, given the network of servants for the Dark Lord available to him. It was far easier to create false identities in this age of modern technology than it was a century and a half earlier.
It had been during his “Henrik Mueller” persona that he had picked up the trail of the knife once again.
Over a century and a half earlier, when he was known as Robert Manse, he had been unable to entice the Widow Simpson into any romantic relationship. Somehow, the Pegasi boy’s presence had prevented him from probing the woman’s mind. Then, with the boy dead, he was finally able to search her mind. However, even with the boy gone, he was unable to manipulate the woman, unable to plant thoughts in her head to influence her decisions. His probing only revealed that the woman steadfastly refused to believe the boy had run away.
Her love for the boy had been too strong for Manse to corrupt.
He had eventually given up and had travelled to Paris where he located the Widow Simpson’s sister, only to discover she no longer had the knife, having given it away to a friend. Then he lost track of it completely. Eventually, he gave up looking for it, deciding instead to enjoy Europe. After all, its danger to him was limited, as only the Pegasi were capable of using it to harm him.
Therefore, he travelled throughout the continent, learning to speak several languages fluently.
Being immortal had its advantages.
He was in Germany, going by the name Henrick Mueller, when the Second World War broke out, and through his contacts soon acquired a position with the Gestapo.
He was amazed at the atrocities he could inflict, sanctioned by Hitler’s regime. He was further surprised at the absence of any public outrage, the population’s silence being tacit endorsement of the reign of terror.
It was a clear demonstration of how evil could triumph when good people do nothing.
He ended up leading one of the Gestapo units in Paris. It was in that capacity when, by chance, a document came to his attention. It was a list of artworks and other artifacts that had been hidden in Paris by curators of various museums prior to the occupation, in order to avoid confiscation by the Germans.
