Well it's not quite as late as the last two... I'm getting back on track, really I am. Thanks as always for all the feedback on the last chapter.

Chapter Ten

Virgil had rarely felt so frustrated. He knew that Alan would be monitoring whatever was happening with Scott via the still-open link on his brother's watch, but he himself - the only source of help his brother had - had no way of finding out what was going on, not with the taxi driver right there in front of him, able to overhear any conversation. There would be no hiding the fact that communication was taking place via a watch rather than a phone, so all he could do was wait, wonder and worry, cursing the snowstorm that made progress so slow.

When his watch gently vibrated in a sequence that meant, 'get a move on!', he debated attempting to bribe the driver with yet more money, but another glance out of the window told him that it would be pointless. He'd been lucky to find a cabbie willing to go anywhere in conditions like this, let alone halfway across London, and to a place which, the man had cheerfully informed him, wasn't the safest even in daylight.

When the driver turned a corner and announced that they were almost there, Virgil breathed a sigh of relief. There had been no further communication from Alan, but what that meant for Scott was anyone's guess.

The streets had been deserted, of both cars and pedestrians, so it was something of a surprise to see two figures up ahead. Neither looked dressed for the appalling weather and the nearest, a girl, seemed to be chasing after the man ahead of her.

A man who looked strangely familiar...

"Stop!" Virgil yelled, much to the driver's surprise. His passenger had been so desperate to get to his destination and now, almost within sight of it, he wanted to get out? Well, he'd been well-paid for his efforts and he knew better than to ask questions. He wasn't going to forget this journey in a hurry, though, not when this over-dressed and agitated American had tipped him so handsomely.

Virgil slipped several times as he chased after Parker. Given the man's behaviour at Westminster Abbey that morning, he hadn't been surprised to get no response when he'd called his name. What had surprised him, though - though surprise had quickly turned to horror, and then to genuine panic - was when Parker seemed about to throw himself into the Thames, an action guaranteed to end his life within seconds, such was the strength of the current, not to mention the almost freezing temperature of the water.

Virgil hurled himself forward as Parker stepped off the wall. He managed to snag the back of the man's shirt, pulling him backwards and hitting the ground with a thud that knocked the breath out of him - the weight of Parker as he landed on top of him didn't help matters, either.

"What the hell are you doing?" he gasped, desperately trying to keep his hold as the man struggled to get away.

When Parker twisted round to face Virgil, his blank expression chilled the artist far more than the snow already had. Indeed, so shocked was he that his reactions were decidedly slow as he belatedly moved to block the punch Parker threw at him.

Only vaguely aware that the girl he'd noticed earlier had reached them and was yelling something about an uncle, Virgil did his best to subdue Parker. It wasn't easy. He didn't want to hurt the man - not only was Parker his friend, but there was clearly something terribly wrong with him, and Virgil didn't want to make matters worse.

But Parker wasn't holding back. Nor was he fighting fair. Virgil soon had to abandon any attempts to go easy on him as he battled to get away. But Virgil was more than a match for the older man - at least he would have been if the girl hadn't decided to weigh in on the chauffeur's side, suddenly smashing Virgil across the head with what he later learned was the lid of a garbage can. By the time his head had stopped spinning, Parker was up and running - but only as far as the river.

The girl's yell of delight as the fight ended suddenly became one of panic as Parker scrambled back up onto the wall. She reached out to try to pull him down, only to be forcibly shoved backwards, landing heavily in the snow.

Once again, Virgil had to drag Parker down and the fight began again. He couldn't worry about the girl, so focused was he on subduing Parker, but the simple fact that the garbage can lid made no further appearances seemed to suggest that she'd accepted that Virgil was apparently all that stood between Parker and certain death.

Knowing that only adrenaline was keeping him going and fearing that sooner rather than later he was going to run out of energy, Virgil decided enough was enough. Hating himself for doing it, but aware that there was no other guaranteed way to put Parker out of action, he managed to get his arm around the other man's throat. Although Parker tried desperately to prise it away, Virgil kept up the pressure, gradually increasing it until finally, with a snarl and a groan, Parker slumped to the ground.

"What have you done to him?"

Virgil had to take a moment to get his own breath back, staggering to his feet and grabbing a handful of snow to press against a throbbing eye, before replying,

"Saving his life."

"Who are you?"

Virgil smiled ruefully. "Would you believe I'm a friend of his?"

The girl shook her head. "I don't know what I believe any more. Why would Uncle Al want to kill himself? Is it something to do with what happened this morning? He said it was all part of some plan, but I can't help wondering if it all went wrong somewhere. He hasn't been right all day."

"I don't know." Virgil looked at Parker's unconscious body for a moment before kneeling back down, checking his pulse, then, after a moment's thought, unwinding the cravat which was still tied loosely around his neck - he'd be so glad to get out of these ridiculous wedding clothes, he thought - and binding Parker's wrists with it. Then he took off his belt and used it to secure the man's ankles.

"Can't risk him trying anything like that again," he said, with a jerk of his head towards the river.

The girl shivered, and not only with the cold.

"What are you going to do with him?"

"I-"

The sound of a gunshot shattered the silence.

"Scott!" The matter of what to do with Parker suddenly became irrelevant. Virgil had no choice but to abandon him. After all, it was a simple matter of priorities.

"Don't go anywhere!" he called as he ran past the girl.

Slipping and sliding through the snow, he turned the corner into the alleyway where the Dog and Duck was situated, only to crash straight into someone running full pelt in the opposite direction. Both men landed in the snow, lying still for just a microsecond before scrambling to their feet, fists at the ready.

"Scott?"

"Virg! Am I glad to see you."

The reunion was heartfelt but brief. "Come on!" Scott grabbed his brother's arm and pulled him back around the corner. "We've got to get moving."

Virgil didn't have the breath to argue or to ask questions, simply following his brother. He was aware of loud voices coming from the direction of the pub, but as he ran they faded away and he risked a quick glance backwards, relieved to see that no one appeared to be following them. A siren began to wail as he caught up with Scott who was hesitating at a crossroads.

"This way!" he called, leading his brother back to the place where he'd left Parker and Rosie.

It came as no surprise to find that they weren't there.

Great. After all that, he'd lost Parker. He hadn't even saved Scott - his brother having apparently managed to get free all by himself.

"This is a dead end, Virgil." Scott sounded annoyed.

Virgil was about to tell his brother exactly what he thought of the situation in general and his brother in particular, when a small car parked nearby suddenly started up, dazzling them both in the beam of its headlights.

"Over here!" It was Rosie. She'd apparently managed to get Parker into her car, and now she was waving at them to join her.

Scott and Virgil looked at each other for a moment then, as the sound of a second, then a third, siren joined the first, they decided their first priority was to get as far away from this place as they could. Diving into the back of the car, nearly squashing Parker in the process - still unconscious, the man was sprawled across the seat - they took a moment to catch their breath.

Scott finally muttered,

"What happened to Parker?"

"Uh... That'd be me. He was trying to kill himself, Scott."

"What? I could see he wasn't himself in that cellar, but... Virg, none of this makes sense."

"You're telling me." That was Rosie. With half a mile put between them and the Dog and Duck, she pulled to the side of the road and turned off the engine, twisting round in her seat to look at them.

"I'm going to trust you," she announced. "I wasn't. I was all ready to get Uncle Al as far away from here as I could, but then I heard your name..."

"My name?" Virgil just looked confused.

"Yeah. Virgil. You really are a friend of Uncle Al's aren't you?"

"He's talked about me?" Virgil exchanged a nervous glance with Scott.

"Not really. But we were discussing names a while back. Uncle Al said he was glad my sister had chosen a sensible name for her baby, given the horrors some of the family have been saddled with. Like him. Anyway, he mentioned a friend of his called 'Virgil'. Said you were a good man, even if you did have a weird name."

Scott looked offended on his brother's behalf, but Virgil just shrugged. He'd never been too fond of his name, as much as he admired the man he'd got it from. Still, it seemed to have worked in his favour this time.

"So," Rosie went on. "What's going on?"

"We're not entirely sure," Virgil said. "What did Parker tell you about the wedding?"

"That it was all a put-up job. That he was going to lie low and wait to see if anyone came to look for him. You did, uh...?"

"Scott," said Scott. He held out a hand and smiled. "Thanks for the tea. And the blanket."

Rosie returned the smile as she shook his hand. "I'm Rosie."

"Tea?" Virgil chipped in. "All I can smell is beer."

"Long story," Scott told him, then turned back to Rosie. "So when I came looking you thought I was one of the bad guys?"

"Sorry. But you did sneak in through the back door and Terry heard you say something about looking for Uncle Al."

"I wanted to help him, not hurt him."

"I know that now. But I had no reason to disbelieve him at the time, did I?"

"Guess not. So who were that man and woman?"

Rosie shrugged. "I thought they were MI5 agents." She couldn't help smiling at the way both Scott and Virgil started at the casual mention of the security agency's name. "I know a little bit about his work. To be honest, this wouldn't be the first time Lady Penelope's got me into trouble. But I've never seen that pair before. I didn't like them, either. The woman was hard work right from the start, giving me orders and demanding coffee every five minutes. She kept saying that no one was going to turn up, that the timing was all wrong. I was glad when she took herself off. She made the man stay with Uncle Al. He didn't look too pleased to be there, though."

"I don't think they are MI5," Scott said. "You didn't get their names did you?"

Rosie thought for a minute. "She called him 'James', but something in the way she said it made me think it wasn't his real name. She called herself Eve."

"But maybe she was using a fake name too?" Scott asked.

"Well, secret agents sometimes do, "Rosie reminded him. "I thought that's what they were." She paused for a moment before asking, "Is Lady Penelope really missing?"

"I'm afraid so," Virgil told her.

"And all the others? Prince Louis and the Archbishop of Canterbury?"

"Yep." With Scott's agreement, Virgil gave a brief account of Parker's actions at the Abbey. It came as no surprise that Rosie was devastated.

"So Uncle Al's mixed up in something really bad?"

"It looks that way. But he'd never do anything to hurt Lady Penelope, we know that," Virgil said. "Rosie, you said he wasn't himself even before he tried to jump into the river. What exactly did you mean?"

"He was quiet. You know Uncle Al, he's usually the life and soul of the place. But he just sat there all afternoon. When the party started he finally livened up, but even then, it all seemed kind of forced, at least at first. He was drinking an awful lot. I mean, I know it was supposed to be a party, but if he was on a mission you'd have thought he'd have gone easy. He seemed to sober up when that woman came along, though. I don't know what she did to him, but when she spoke to him that last time, that's when he really changed. He went kind of..." She shook her head, floundering for the right words.

"Blank?" Scott suggested, and Rosie nodded her agreement as he continued, "What was it she said to him? 'Your work is done'?"

"Yeah."

Virgil couldn't help shivering as he remembered how close Parker had come to ending it all. "It very nearly was," he said slowly.

"Drugs? Some kind of mind control?" Scott asked. He wasn't entirely convinced such a thing was possible, not to the extent of forcing someone to act so utterly against their principles, but he was at a loss to find any other explanation.

"Maybe." Virgil reached out and took Parker's pulse again. "He's okay," he reassured Rosie. "But I don't know why he's still out. Maybe the drink's part of it."

"We can't take him to a hospital," Rosie said. "But what can we do? I share a house with three other girls. I can't take him in."

Scott and Virgil looked at each other. In the early hours of the morning their options were limited.

"The Ritz, I guess," Virgil finally said. "The suite's private. And who's going to suspect we've got anything to do with all this?"

Scott agreed that was pretty much their only option right now.

Rosie started the engine once again, activating the wipers to disperse the snow which had covered the windscreen. It was falling more gently now, but the roads were still treacherous.

"It's a long way for you to drive," Scott said. "How about we borrow your car until tomorrow? We'll set you down at your place."

That earned him a grateful smile. Rosie was no fan of travelling through snow and although the rush of adrenaline she'd experienced earlier on had got her through that initial bit of driving, she was more than happy to turn the responsibility over to someone else.

"I'll drive," Virgil announced, putting up a hand to stop Scott's protestations. "No, Scott. Firstly, I might have had a rough day but at least I didn't spend hours doing something insanely stupid, unlike some people I could mention. And secondly, if our luck carries on the way it has done and we get pulled over by the cops, they're going to arrest you for drunk driving just from the smell of you."

Ignoring Scott's protests that he hadn't actually had any beer, it had just been thrown over him as he'd attempted to escape, and that anyway, if they were pulled over by the police, the presence of one of the country's most notorious men in the back seat would probably excite a lot more interest than any driving misdemeanours, Virgil took the wheel. Ten minutes later Rosie was dropped off at her house, the brothers having promised her that they'd take good care of her uncle.

"Remember, if you don't hear from us tomorrow, report your car as stolen," Scott told her. "You don't want to be involved in any of this."

"I do if I can help Uncle Al," she told them, glancing worriedly at the still-unconscious man on the back seat.

"We'll keep that in mind," Virgil promised.

They watched as Rosie went up to her front door, turning and waving at them before going inside.

"She likes me," Scott announced.

"No, I think you'll find she likes me."

Scott reached out to cuff his brother across the head. "Don't be greedy, Virg. You've already got four girls chasing you."

Virgil considered this for a moment then shrugged. "I say it's five - nil. But four - one still gives me the advantage."

"Hey, you've been in town all week, I've only had a few hours. I'll catch up."

With that, Scott sat back and turned his attention to Parker.

Then they were on their way, finally able to not only openly discuss all that had happened, but to bring their other brothers in on the conversation too. They'd hoped there might have been further developments, but all Alan had to tell them was that the police had left the Dog and Duck after only a cursory investigation - apparently there were more pressing concerns for them that night.

One big concern for Scott and Virgil was how to smuggle Parker into the Ritz without being spotted. It was John who handled that one for them, admitting that on a previous visit to London he'd assisted Penny on a mission that had involved hacking into the hotel's security system.

"I can override the cameras and the doors," he said. "Scott, you can take Parker in through the side entrance. Virg, you'll have to go through the main doors, otherwise they're going to wonder how you got yourself in. We don't want to do anything to attract suspicion."

Virgil thought he might attract plenty of suspicion returning at that time of night complete with bruises and a black eye, but he had to agree that John probably had a point. Bringing Rosie's car to a halt at the side entrance, he helped Scott drag Parker out. It was a surprise to both of them when the man suddenly jerked awake, looking at both of them in confusion. "'Ello," he muttered, followed by, "H'it's bloody freezing," before passing out again.

"Well, that's a good sign," Scott said. "Isn't it?"

"Guess so," Virgil replied. "You want me to come up with you?"

"Nah, I'll manage."

Virgil waited until his brother had settled Parker over his shoulder and made his way safely in before taking Rosie's car another half a mile or so across the city, not wanting any link to be made between them. It was nearly 3am by the time he rang the bell at the main entrance, keeping his head down as he hurried in and darted quickly over to the - thankfully now unmanned - elevator.

Scott had put Parker to bed in their father's room and was now sitting in a chair beside the man's bed. Tired as he was - the impromptu flight across the Atlantic had really taken it out of him - he insisted that Virgil get some rest. The younger man made a token protest, but he quickly gave in, though only after making Scott promise that he'd wake him in a few hours.

Scott closed the door behind his brother and returned to his seat, shifting every now and again as he tried to settle himself. It wasn't that the chair wasn't comfortable - after all, this was the most luxurious suite the Ritz had to offer - but he had too much on his mind. As if Parker's behaviour wasn't enough of a worry, he couldn't stop thinking about Penny. Where was she? What was happening to her? Was she even still alive? Question after question ran through his head, but no answers offered themselves.

Dawn was breaking when he woke Virgil, taking over his brother's warm bed and ignoring the bitter complaints from Virgil as he did so. Given the way his mind had been racing for the past few hours, he didn't really expect to fall asleep, but exhaustion finally overtook him and soon he was dead to the world.

He was awoken by a hand roughly shaking his shoulder.

"Gerroff, Virg," he groaned, slapping away at the hand.

"It's your father."

Scott's eyes snapped open and he stared up at the familiar figure of Jeff Tracy.

"Are you supposed to be here?" he asked.

Jeff glared at him. "I'm fine, Scott. Another one of those damned journalists was snooping around, so I insisted they discharge me. Alan's filled me in on what happened last night."

"Have you spoken to Parker yet?"

"No. Virgil's trying to wake him up. Nice black eye he's got. Our Parker packs quite a punch, it seems. I just hope he's a little more amenable this morning."

Scott followed his father into the sitting room, ready to give him a more detailed account of the previous evening's escapades than Alan would have been able to offer, but he'd only just got started when Jeff's bedroom door opened and a groggy Parker stumbled out. Jeff's mouth fell open as he realised the man was dressed in his favourite silk pyjamas.

"Parker, how are you feeling?" Scott asked.

"'Orrible," the man replied, before swallowing hard a couple of times, clapping a hand over his mouth and disappearing quickly back into the bedroom.

Scott looked at his father and shrugged his shoulders.

Jeff shook his head wearily. "Go and check on him. I'll order room service. Maybe after some coffee Parker will be up to talking."

Twenty minutes later, the three Tracys sat at the table tucking into their breakfast. Scott and Virgil were relieved to find that their father was pretty much back to normal and indeed, extremely hungry after almost a day with no food. The story of the kidnapping was all over the news although it seemed there had been no further developments. They watched the coverage for a while, eventually turning the TV off when Parker, freshly showered and looking a little less green, came in. Jeff had found some clothes for him - it was that or leave him in pyjamas, Parker's own clothes being in desperate need of laundering - and the man was full of embarrassed thanks.

"H'I'm so sorry, Mr Tracy," he mumbled, his eyes firmly fixed on the carpet. "H'I must 'ave got h'a bit carried h'away. 'Er Ladyship knows 'ow to throw h'a party, that's for sure."

Scott, Jeff and Virgil exchanged concerned glances.

"Party?" Virgil asked.

"H'I don't remember h'anything, so h'it must 'ave been a good'un. 'Ope h'I didn't h'embarrass myself too much."

"Parker!" Jeff's sharp tone finally got the man looking directly at him. "There wasn't a party. What there was, was an attack."

"Huh?" Parker looked utterly bewildered. "A what...?"

"You really don't remember?" Jeff asked. "The gas? Those men who-"

"Slow down, Dad," Virgil, said, getting up and settling a shaky Parker into a chair. "Parker, there was a raid, just after Penny and Simon made their vows. Everyone in the Abbey was gassed. Except-"

"Gas?" Parker interrupted. "We were knocked h'out? H'is that why h'I feel so bad? There's me thinking h'it was the drink. But 'Er ladyship? H'Is she h'okay?"

"We don't know," Scott told him. "They took her."

Cursing, Parker shot to his feet, only for Scott and Virgil to push him back down again.

"Wait, Parker," Scott said. "There's more."

"More?"

"They took Lord Simon too," Jeff informed him. "Along with Prince Louis, the Archbishop of Canterbury, Irving Ross and another guy. Some businessman friend of the Warrington-Farrs."

"We 'ave to do something," Parker insisted. "H'aren't there h'any clues?"

"We've only got one good lead," Virgil said slowly. "You."

"Me?"

"You really don't remember anything about this?" Jeff asked gently.

"No." Parker looked agitatedly from one Tracy to the next. "What h'aren't you telling me? Please, Mr Tracy, what h'am h'I supposed to remember?"

"Show him the footage," Jeff ordered, and Virgil, with an anxious glance in Parker's direction, did as his father asked.

As Parker watched the events unfold, he grew ever paler, constant mutterings, of 'No, H'I wouldn't," and 'Milady' indicating his distress. Scott put a hand on his shoulder. There was no way the man was faking his shock. He looked just about ready to pass out. When Virgil stopped the playback there was silence for a moment, then Parker buried his head in his hands.

"H'I don't know what to say," he whispered. "H'I remember sitting down next to you, Mr Tracy. Then... there's nothing. What 'ave h'I done?"

"Parker, clearly there's some reason why it's all a blank," Jeff said. "We think you were under some form of mind control. Or maybe some kind of drug was used on you. We'll get to the bottom of it, I promise. And we'll get Penny and the others back."

"There's more," Scott said slowly. "Parker, there were two people with you in the pub. A man and a woman: James and Eve - although they could have been using false names. The woman looked a bit like Lady Penelope..." He watched the man for any glimmer of recollection, but there was nothing.

"The woman gave you some kind of order," Jeff said. "You tried to throw yourself into the Thames, Parker."

He wouldn't have thought it was possible for the man to have gone any whiter, but Parker managed it.

"Virg saved you," Scott told him.

Parker looked over at the younger brother. "Did 'h'I do that?" he asked, indicating Virgil's bruised face.

Virgil looked a little embarrassed. "Well, yeah. But I think I gave you a few bruises myself. Sorry. But it was the only way I could stop you."

Parker whispered his thanks, then buried his head in his hands once again. Jeff gave him a moment then moved things along.

"Obviously we need a plan of action. I've got Brains on the case so hopefully he can come up with some explanation as to why you behaved as you did. In the meantime, no one else knows of your involvement. We need to-"

The ringing of the telephone startled them. Virgil moved across to take the call, simply saying 'thank you' before replacing the receiver.

"The police are on their way up," he announced.

There was consternation for a moment, then Jeff snapped into action.

"Scott, get Parker out of here! There's a reading room at the end of the corridor, hide in there. Go on, quickly!"

They were only just in time. Just moments after Scott and Parker closed the door of the reading room, the elevator door slid open and a plain-clothed detective stepped out into the corridor, accompanied by another man in uniform.

The detective, a thin, grey-haired man in his mid-fifties, wearing an ill-fitting suit and a somewhat harassed expression, introduced himself as Inspector Garland when Jeff opened the door to him.

"How are you feeling Mr Tracy?".

Jeff murmured something about being absolutely fine. He'd never liked admitting to any kind of weakness, and having to be carted off in an ambulance had done nothing for his pride.

"How can I help you?" he asked.

"It's your son I'd like to talk to, actually," the inspector said, and if he was surprised at the fearful expression that flickered across Jeff's face, he didn't give anything away.

"Virgil...?"

"That's right, Mr Tracy. He is the only one of your sons here with you, isn't he?"

"He is," Jeff said slowly. "I'm rather surprised by your visit, though. I thought Virgil gave a statement at the Abbey after it all happened."

"He did. And now we need to ask him a few more questions."

"Well, you'd better come in. My son's got nothing to hide."

Fervently wishing that was indeed the case and wondering what on earth they were going to do if Scott and Virgil's escapades of the night before had come to the notice of the police, Jeff stood aside to let the men in. Virgil was just shutting the door to his room, having hurriedly stashed half the breakfast dishes in there - he'd only realised the table was still set for four as the police had knocked on the door

"Virgil Tracy?"

"Yes." Virgil glanced across at his father, registering the slight movement of hand to watch which told him that Jeff was either transmitting or recording the conversation.

"Been having some trouble?" the inspector asked, eyes inadvertently widening in surprise - and suspicion - at the bruises on Virgil's face.

Virgil didn't have to pretend to look sheepish. "Ah... I slipped on the ice. Went face first into a parked car. Bit embarrassing..."

"Indeed." Garland studied him intently for a moment, then signalled to the police officer who'd accompanied him.

"Do you recognise this?"

The policeman held out his hand. In the centre of his palm, encased in a clear plastic bag, was one of the tiny cameras Virgil had set up in the Abbey, a camera which was unique to International Rescue and certainly not the kind of thing you'd usually find lying around in an ancient abbey.

With so many other things to feel guilty about, Virgil had forgotten all about the cameras, and he hoped the inspector took his surprise as a sign of innocence.

"Never seen it before," he said, reaching out to pick up the device, only for the policeman to snatch it away.

"What's this all about?" Jeff asked, switching into heavy-handed-billionaire-businessman mode. "What exactly are you accusing my son of?"

"At the moment... nothing. But we found two of these cameras and they're nothing to do with the security services. One of them was near the piano, in the main part of the church, and although young Mr Tracy certainly wasn't the only person with the opportunity to place it there, he was certainly the one with the most interest in that particular instrument."

Virgil shook his head, desperately trying to decide whether to go for outrage or indifference. Or laughter, maybe... In the end, he settled for a bewildered glance in his father's direction.

"Nothing to do with me," he said. "Anyway, like you said, anyone could have put it there. That place was full of people."

"Indeed. But we also found a second camera. Up on the balcony. That's a restricted area, Mr Tracy, and yet you were seen up there on Friday afternoon. You spent quite some time up there too, so I've been told. What were you doing? Setting up the camera? Or maybe you were hiding a canister of knock-out gas? We found one quite near to this little device."

"This is ridiculous!" Jeff thundered. "Why on earth would my son be involved in something like this? Look around you, man! Does it look as if he needs money?"

"Money isn't always the motive, Sir," Garland replied. "In fact, we're still awaiting any kind of ransom demand. Just as we're still waiting for an answer, Mr Tracy."

He turned back to Virgil.

After a moment's hesitation, Virgil got up and headed into his room, returning seconds later with a sketchpad.

"I wanted to draw the Abbey," he said, handing it over to the policeman. "The perspective from the balcony is perfect, and there are all those stone carvings along the balustrades that you can't see in detail from the ground. We don't have anything quite like it back home. I know you're not supposed to go up there, but I couldn't resist."

The man thumbed through the pages. "They're not bad," he said. "Especially these last few. Pretty girls, those sisters."

Jeff rolled his eyes as Virgil reddened, quickly pulling the book back from the policeman.

"Incidentally, it was one of them who told us about you wandering around upstairs," the man said. "You've certainly got on the wrong side of Flora Sullivan. Still, I suppose it's hard to keep four women happy."

Virgil was a perfect shade of scarlet by now. Jeff came to his rescue.

"So my son is off the hook?"

Garland handed the sketchbook back to Virgil and got to his feet.

"No one's 'off the hook' yet, Sir. We're investigating all possible leads. The lab found a partial fingerprint on one of the cameras. Mr Tracy, I'm sure you won't mind allowing us to take yours - just to eliminate you from our enquiries, of course."

Of course, Virgil had no choice but to comply. After all, what else would an innocent man do?

"Thank you," Garland said as his assistant completed the task. "I'll leave you in peace. For now. I understand you were planning to leave the country tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to remain here for the time being." He looked around him. "I can't imagine it will be that much of a hardship."

Virgil scowled, but muttered his agreement.

"Thank you. If I could have your passport, then, Sir."

Virgil dutifully handed it over, full of protestations that the whole thing was insane. A passport was hardly necessary, of course, after all, ordinary transportation was far from his only means of getting home. He couldn't help wondering what Inspector Garland would say if he knew his brother was just metres away, having illegally entered the country by means of a nuclear-powered jet pack. It was always good to have options, but what Virgil really wanted was for his name to be cleared beyond any shadow of a doubt. The fingerprint issue wasn't really a concern - John had probably already hacked into the police database and fixed that little problem - but anything that drew the spotlight of the authorities' attention onto the Tracys was decidedly unwelcome.

Jeff shut the door behind the policemen and turned back to his son.

"As if we didn't have enough problems..."