The Garda had two units on stakeout following the every move of John Rider. His son had left three days ago with the New Head of the International Response Teams at Interpol. The boy would be well protected in that household. There had been no visitors or phone calls since. At 1:30, John Rider had walked to the Post Office and sent four items by International Post, all on Guaranteed Courier delivery, two to Switzerland, one to London and one to Italy. All had been letters and without a reason to suspect a concealment they had no jurisdiction to hold or open the correspondence, two marked personal and the others private and confidential.
Seamus Lynne was bored sat in his unmarked Ford Focus, when he heard the unmistakable sound of a pistol being fired. The windows of the cottage were open and the gunshot had not been silenced. His partner came running around the corner making hand signals for an immediate intervention.
Murtagh O'Donnell was first to reach the front door of the small cottage. The place on its own on the south of the Moydrum Road, surrounded by fields. He knocked forcefully "Mr. Rider, open up its the Garda."
Seamus had scouted to the rear and the backdoor was slightly ajar. He could hear his partner banging at the front and shouting loud enough to wake the dead. He creeped forward and saw the corpse of John Rider in the kitchen slumped on the kitchen table. A large hole on his skull and fro the gun in his right hand, the fatal shot had been self inflicted.
…
Alex was not crying. He had cried enough for mummy. Now, daddy was dead. Left him all alone. The nine year old had tried the phone number he had for Aunty Julia, but it no longer worked. He wanted to go back to Uncle Yasha, because he hated living with his foster family, the perfect Jones. Twins Daniel and Robin had great fun making his life difficult. Being naughty and blaming the cuckoo in the nest for the mess or disturbance. Uncle Howell always took his boys side and Aunty Tulip was never home. The au pair, Sigrid was the only nice person in the whole bunch.
He had run off this morning, not bothering with school today, after overhearing the telephone conversation last night. For some reason Uncle Howell had not told him last night or this morning that John Rider had died. Alex had known something was wrong with his daddy when he left Athlone. He had read the headlines in the newspapers in the village. The newspapers in French had pages of editorials of a heartbroken man taking his own life.
Alex had already read the letter his daddy had put in the secret pocket in the suitcase. It had explained that he had worked for Aunty Julia but her bosses had insisted that his father did the honourable thing. It was the only way for Alex to grow up normally and not on the run. Daddy had done bad things in the past and could not go back to England. When Alex was older other documents would be sent to explain everything in detail. Maybe that was why Uncle Howell did not like him, his daddy was not a good man. Mummy had said Daddy was a soldier and he now worked teaching people to work as freelance soldiers. That had not sounded bad, mummy had worked as a freelance nurse. Alex wanted his mummy back, but he would not cry. He had heard daddy cry, late at night. Thats when he would cry, for mummy and daddy. Now, he was going to write a letter to aunty Julia, one with a nice drawing in it. Hopefully she would get it and come for Alex.
The little boy then started to reread the letter from his daddy
Dear Alex, my beautiful son
By the time you read this letter I will have gone to join mummy.
…
Tulip had arrived at the school at 11, when notified Alex had not arrived this morning. He had left early to walk the short distance to the elementary school in Villette-d'Anthon. Alex in the year ahead of her two sons. Her boys stumbling to learn French since their transfer here. Alex was already fluent, bright and perfectly at home with strange customs and different styles of education. He had already been to school in Ireland, Germany, France and Spain. She had not needed this, Ian rider had already petitioned for custody of his nephew and John was not even buried.
…
Gendarme Du Lac noticed a patch of blue in Madam Lacalles orchard. It was after six in the evening and it was almost dark. He wandered through the trees to see a small boy in a blue coat, blue hat and asleep under a tree. The beam of the policeman's torch illuminated a dirty tear streaked face.
….
The Jones household was not a happy place. Two boys had been sent to bed with no supper for stealing Alex's books and toys and for the three days of mayhem as both had tormented their foster brother. The twins had admitted to all their misdemeanours when confronted with an angry mummy. The two lay in bed and listened to the row erupt downstairs.
"I am going to the hospital to see Alex. Can you answer me this, is this going to become a pattern? I was called at work, because you switched off the phone. Do I have to remind you that we decided on the work/home pattern, where I worked three days a week and you taught two days. This was a new start. You are well aware Alex staying here is only tempoarary. As soon as Ian Rider sorts out a housekeeper, Alex will be moving to London." Tulip Jones took a deep breath. "We need to have a long talk in the morning, all of us."
…
"You do realise Alex is traumatised. He has been to two sessions with a child psychologist and needs care and patience. Both his parents died violently. He is withdrawn, but hasn't tried to runaway since he found out about his father's suicide." Tulip Jones sucked on a mint, her one bad habit; substituting sugar free mints for her former twenty a day smoking habit. She stopped smoking after marrying Howell. She was not looking at Ian, her gut told her that handing Alex over to his uncle was a mistake, but her marriage was under strain. Her promise to John still stood. "If you or Alex need anything call me. I will always be available to take him if you need a break. I warn you parenting is hard especially juggling a job like ours. You are taking a break from field work?"
"Yes, I have a six month sabbatical organised. John Crawley has been very supportive. I might put in for a transfer to MI5 as an analyst or take a embassy posting." Ian had let John down, his brother had supported him through Secondary School and University. Money his own father would have drank or gambled away. How had he paid him back, by for calling Helen an unsuitable wife and then no believing John was innocent, when he had been arrested for murder. He would raise Alex properly with the help of his new housekeeper. Ms. Starbright came highly recommended as carer for difficult children. Ian had talked to Alex yesterday, the boy had nodded his head and been extremely polite but stability would hopefully help his nephew move on from these tragedies.