Chapter 38

With a groan I settled into the smooth leather seat of the newly acquired Cambias jet not looking forward to the one hour trip. Alexander was puffed up like a proud papa as the engines roared to life. This was his latest prize; he had spent countless hours working one on one with Serge Dassault in an attempt to design the perfect aircraft and had come pretty close. During these sessions my attendance was required. Sensing my boredom Monsieur Dassault granted me the rare opportunity of flight lessons from some of Dassault Aviation's top pilots. This knowledge proved exceedingly helpful in some of my 'others lives'.

"It will be years before anyone can top this, Alex." He boasted as he ran his hands along the fine leather. He'd been so consumed by his newest toy that he had not mentioned the fact that I wasn't around the previous day. He placed no importance on his actions and appeared ready and able to move forward as if pharmaceutical castration was a classic father son moment.

The flight from Paris to London may be short but I had no intention of filling it with idle chit chat. He was like an excited child as he tried to interest me in all the plane's bells and whistles but I ignored him, much to his ire, and carefully drew the book from my bag taking a moment to look at its cover and slowly trace the golden letters with my fingertips. A strange sensation of peace washed over me. Not only was the book a connection to my past but it was also the ticket to my future. Claire had given it to Amy just in case; just in case her plan didn't work, just in case something went terribly wrong. The tales of King Arthur were our favorites; heroes and gallantry, damsels in distress and a code of honor kept me spellbound for hours as a boy. My heart warmed as those wonderful memories were replayed in my mind. And to think Claire used these same stories to rescue me; all I had to do was get to Paris, show the book to Luc and my safe passage was to be guaranteed. A new name and all the required documents, enough money get me established and no trail back to my previous identity. I could have done it at that very moment but there were too many lose ends. Most importantly it was clear to me I needed to make my father believe I was dead; that was the only way I could be certain I would not be hunted down to the ends of the earth. The thought of my father suffering at my death brought a reflexive smile to my face.

"What on earth are you smiling for?" Alexander queried as he studied my face with a look of annoyance. "Care to clue me in?"

Each word out of my father's mouth caused me to bristle with irritation. I found him particularly loathsome today. Ignoring him I returned to the pages in an attempt to distance myself as much as was possible.

Without a moments hesitation he reached over and snatched the book from my hand. "What the fuck is this that has you ignoring me? Romance of King Arthur? You couldn't read something a little more…..present day? This looks like something your ineffectual brother would read." With a shake of his head he continued "You disappoint me Alex." Studying the inside cover be boasted "Well, at least it's a collector's item --- 1917 --- and even signed by Rackham himself; must have cost a tidy some." He paused slightly before continuing "Funny, I don't recall giving you that much cash." His eyes narrowed as he shot me a skeptical glance; trying in vain to read answers from my face.

"Fishing isn't your sport Dad. I'd say archery is more your style; direct and through the heart. But I'm afraid there is not much to tell. I found it at an old bookstore and since it was in English rather than French I don't think the old geezer knew what he had. I had no choice but to scoff it up." I relished in knowing my face gave him no answers. Knowing these tactics would get nowhere with me he quickly changed the subject.

"I was planning on buying you a seat at tonight's game, Alex. It's just a friendly game, million gets you in. And you'll get to meet my old pal Richard Scaife. Did I ever tell you the story of how he got kicked out of Yale?" He chuckled loudly recalling the exploit.

"Yes, drunken party…. heard it all before and really don't care to again." Disinterest overwhelmed me "Thought I'd go see Lyn instead. Don't know when I'll get to see her again and I miss her."

Alexander allowed a deep sigh to pass through his lips. "Very well, go to Lyn. After all she won't be back until that beast of hers is born and disposed of. But I require something in return."

"What else could you possible want from me?" I shot back wearily.

"In return you will start being seen with Richard's daughter Jennie. She's a little older than you and I think its time we got you out there with the right kind of young lady. She certainly isn't Cambias caliber but she'll do for a start and get you into the right circles. Once you graduate you'll be done spending time with your brother so you might as well start getting used to it now. He's dead weight and of absolutely no value to you."

"He's my brother and I love him there is value in that. How is it possible to think any person is without value; especially your own son?"

"It's very simple Alex" he turned to look at me stating plainly "He's – not - you. You are all I ever wanted. The twins are an inadvertent irritation; Katherine was never intended to be mother to my son; she had a very different role in our marriage; one she excelled at with delight. There wasn't a man alive who could turn his back on Katherine's advances which gained us insight into many a merger or hush-hush deal." He drew a long deep breath through his nose while closing his eyes as if he could smell her intoxicating aroma. "Yes, Katherine had many talents indeed." His body released a shudder as he slowly opened his eyes. Claire on the other hand… she was perfection" He waved his meticulously manicured hands in the air delicately "just the right amount of fire and innocence, brains and reckless abandon. Even as a child she would press me for things she wanted rarely showing any fear. She was the only one to fight back rather than cower; much like her father and dear Alex much like you. There aren't many women in this world like Claire but I have every intention of finding one to be the mother to your son. Mark my words, Alex, mark my words."

My father knew how to get my attention. He had never spoken to me of Claire like this and even though within this conversation he had just said he would find the mother of my son that was not what was important here. It was a rare opportunity and I was prepared to take full advantage. "Was Katherine always aware of your plans for Claire?"

"Of course, she was completely aware and encouraged it. Katherine liked money above all else and would sell her soul or her daughter's to get it. I'd only met Claire once; I believe she might have been ten or so but I knew instantly she had all the qualities I desired. Her mother…exactly like me and her father…brilliant and forthright and Claire had the perfect blend." He fell silent for a moment "Pity her death lies squarely on you shoulders. How it must torment you."

It was awe inspiring how quickly Alexander could turn a conversation and how just a few words could sting so sharply. I thought I was getting somewhere but instead I walked directly down the path he'd set for me. I drew in a sharp breathe before speaking "There are no words to describe the pain that night leaves with me but as for details I can no longer remember them. Dreams and reality have become so twisted inside my head I can't pull them apart. But I do know her death leaves me with a knot in the pit of my stomach that I wake with every morning."

"That must be the guilt son. Fortunately we had the perfect scapegoat in Todd. Only one loose end remained until today. You did see this morning's paper didn't you?" He paused drawing the paper from the inside pocket of his jacket. "It appears someone we knew was living right here in Paris. I'm thinking she may have seen you yesterday and was….I don't by her own guilt."

"What are you talking about?" He placed the neatly folded paper before my eyes. There on the front page were two photos of Amy; one recent and one from the year book of Wilkinson Academy. "What does this mean exactly? You know I cannot read French."

"You do recognize her, right? It appears they found her car near a Paris bridge and a suicide note apologizing to you for causing you so much pain. She confessed to kidnapping you and being the catalyst to Claire's death. The article goes on to say she'd been living in Paris for almost eight years and had worked for many of the top fashion design firms in the city. No body has been found" He looked smug and continued to study my face. "So did you see her?"

"You tell me." I was pretty confident he had been unable to follow me but I was even more confident that Amy had succeeded in her plan. We'd written the note together so nothing he said surprised me. "This changes nothing. Why should this matter to me? You're still here and Claire's still gone. Now, if you don't mind I'd like my book back." Defiantly I glared at him with my hand outstretched.

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