When I started this story I was thinking maybe 20 chapters... Can't believe I've hit 50! Thank you for the reviews of the last chapter – they're very comforting, especially since the story wasn't originally going to end this way. It's all Beth's fault – she wanted one thing changed and the whole thing snowballed. I should have known not to listen to her...
Whirlgirl – the name is complete coincidence. It just popped into my head as something which sounded right for a lawyer. On the subject of the lawyer, thanks to Tikatu for the idea – he came in a lot more useful than I'd originally anticipated!
Nearly done...
Chapter Fifty
Jeff didn't know how long he'd sat at Beth's bedside trying to make sense of everything. Why was he there anyway when the rest of his family were waiting for him? All he knew was that it was easier to be here, with the girl who'd used and betrayed him but who at least couldn't do anything else to humiliate him, than with the others who, quite frankly, he didn't think he could face right now.
So many emotions had come and gone since his mother had broken the news about Beth, but two remained constant: guilt and anger. Guilt at his own actions and the way they had affected his family and friends, and anger both at himself and at them. How could they have believed the worst of him for so long? He'd been drugged! He hated himself for his own part in all this, but at least he had an excuse. But the others... they should have known him better than that; they should never have accepted that he would treat them so badly without something being seriously wrong.
He rubbed his eyes tiredly. He'd only heard Beth's confession and he knew that there were a lot of gaps to be filled in. His mother had suggested calling the boys in to give him their version of events, but he hadn't been able to deal with any more at that point. He knew that at some stage he'd have to listen to a more detailed account, but right now even the thought of it scared him. It hurt to know they'd believed him capable of murder. Beth's spiteful delight had been obvious as she'd taunted his sons over that one – was that really the same girl he'd loved and trusted? - but she'd been right: it was going to be hard for him to get over it – and he wasn't sure he ever would. But even worse than that was the way they'd just let him drift away from them without working out the reason why. Surely the fight with Virgil should have shown them that he was under some malign influence. He'd never have treated his son so badly otherwise... Then he realised that it was because it was that particular son who'd borne the brunt of his actions that the others had accepted it. He'd brought all this on himself by the way he'd treated Virgil after Lucy's death. It all came back to him and that made him feel even worse. Which made him resent his sons and the others even more... He knew it was irrational, that he should be blaming Beth and Byron - even Angie - but they were beyond his vengeance now.
Stepping out into the corridor he was immediately unnerved by the sight of Gordon leaning against the wall.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, somewhat sharply. "I thought I told you to go back to the Elliott house."
Gordon shrugged. "I was worried about you. I couldn't leave."
That just made Jeff feel even more defensive. What did his son think he was going to do? Was this how it was going to be from now on? No trust, no respect, just suspicion and pity? The look in Gordon's eyes – not accusing as he'd half expected, but just desperately sad – made Jeff feel even worse. He'd seen it in his mother's eyes when she'd broken the news – in Scott's and Virgil's too, in the brief glance he'd given them before walking out. He knew he'd see it in the eyes of everyone else who knew about Beth and he wasn't sure he could stand it. He wasn't sure they'd ever see him in the same light again. The damage done to his relationships with his family might well be irreparable. He might well have lost everything that mattered most to him – and he hadn't even begun to think about the fate of his company and of International Rescue.
He began to walk down the corridor, Gordon keeping pace beside him, much to his irritation. As much as he wanted to restore relations with his sons, right now he didn't want to see any of them.
"Leave me alone, Gordon."
"But Dad, you can't-"
He stopped and glared at his son. "Don't tell me what to do, Gordon! I don't want anyone around me right now. Get out of my way!"
Clearly shocked, Gordon took a step back, watching Jeff miserably as he turned and walked away. Jeff knew his son would be in contact with the others within moments, telling them about their father's latest outburst. He wanted to go back to apologise but it was all too much and he had to get away before he simply broke down.
The elevator he found himself in had mirrors around the sides and Jeff took the opportunity to study himself as he waited for it to reach the ground floor. He looked dreadful – exactly as you'd expect someone to look if they'd almost lost their life in a fire, seen someone they loved horrifically injured then discovered that they'd been lied to, drugged and betrayed. He felt sick at the sight of himself, deciding that he looked like a weak, pathetic old man. No wonder Gordon had looked so upset at the sight of him. It would be easy to give up, he thought. He half-wanted to turn the whole thing over to his sons. They'd come this far, why should he be the one to have to sort it out? He wasn't sure whether or not to be angry that up till now no one would act without his agreement, or pleased that his sons still seemed to need him. Either way, he was no good to them right now. He needed to think and, as he'd said to Gordon, he needed to be alone. Unless he could pull himself together they were all finished.
When he got out of the elevator he glanced over towards the hospital's exit. As he'd expected there were police on the doors and several people gathered outside. Reporters, he suspected. He was lucky that the bad weather was holding up the national press, but they'd soon find a way to the hospital. The police too would have questions and, now that he knew the truth about Byron's murder, he realised that things were going to get even more difficult over the next few hours. Who knew what else this Travis woman had said and done? It comforted him a little to know that Detective Milne had believed him innocent, but if the man decided to take another look at the facts, especially in the light of Angie's actions last night, he might still be in trouble.
He wandered along the corridors hoping to find another exit. He was lucky. A couple of nurses were just going out of a staff entrance and he slipped through the door after them. Relieved to finally have a bit of space he pressed a couple of buttons on his watch, cutting off the tracking device as well as all communications, then he started walking. Pulling up the hood of his borrowed coat he knew that no one would recognise him as the billionaire Jeff Tracy.
By the time he reached the cemetery some two miles away he was exhausted but he only stopped to rest when he reached Lucy's grave. She and Jeff had lived in the town when they were first married, when Jeff had still worked at NASA. It was only when Jeff had gone into business for himself that they'd moved away, though Lucy had always wanted the family to return one day. His father was buried there too, and Jeff, when he visited, would always spend some time at both graves. It helped him think and he'd made some of the most momentous decisions of his life in this place, feeling as if he was somehow involving Lucy and his father in those choices. This was the place where he'd finally decided to go ahead with his ideas for IR. If he was going to find a way out of this mess it would be here.
Despite his physical exhaustion his mind was racing. He realised that he needed to know a lot more about everything, however hard it might be to hear. There could be no putting off a lengthy discussion with his sons – Brains too – but he thought he might be able to see a way out, though the personal cost would be high. He'd need to discuss it with all his sons, but he thought John might be able to refine the plan a little – Jeff's talents lay in strategy and negotiation whilst John had a more devious streak in him.
He didn't know how much time had passed, but he eventually managed to get a hold of himself. It was time to go back to his family and take control of the situation, to try to recover a little self-respect and retake his place as head of the family and controller of International Rescue. Guilt and anger, along with the myriad of other emotions he'd experienced that day, were pushed aside – though they'd have to be faced eventually – and what remained was a cold determination to put things right.
Two long, tense hours after Jeff had walked out of the hospital, he made it back to the house where his family were staying. Virgil quickly changed the TV channel from the news station which had been running a – thankfully sketchy – account of the fire. The police hadn't yet released any details about Angie, so the focus right now was on the billionaire's narrow escape and his niece's tragic fate. It was only going to get worse though. They heard their father mutter something to Mrs Elliott as he hung up his coat, then the living room door opened and he came in.
No one quite knew what to say.
Grandma looked at her son, her heart sinking. She'd seen that look in his eyes before – when Lucy died. Jeff had shut down then, focusing on his business so that his emotions couldn't take hold and destroy him. It hadn't been an easy time for anyone.
"Jeff, come and sit by the fire," she said gently.
But Jeff ignored his mother's outstretched hand, walking over to his sons.
"We've got work to do," he told them. "We've got to find a way out of this mess."
He took the remote from Virgil and turned back to the news channel. He watched grimly for a moment before snapping the off switch.
"Any more news?" he asked his sons as his mother went out to help her friend make some coffee.
"The police want to talk to us all again," Virgil said. "They're waiting for the detective from New York to arrive."
"I see."
"Mr Lovell should be here soon," Scott told him.
Jeff nodded. "Who called him?"
"John."
"Good. At least one of you is thinking straight." Jeff regretted the outburst as soon as he'd spoken. Sarcastic comments might make him feel better but they weren't going to help anyone else. He waited to see if anyone would pull him up on it, relieved that his mother wasn't in the room, but there was just an awkward silence.
Scott wanted to point out that John hadn't had to fight for his life in a burning building last night, but he realised that it wasn't the time. As his father called up John, Brains and his other brothers he caught Virgil's eye and knew he shared his brother's look of apprehension.
"Come on, then," Jeff said when everyone was patched in. "Start from the beginning. I want to know your side of it all."
By the time Wentworth Lovell arrived at the house Jeff had interrogated all his family and had filled in the gaps in Beth's account. He'd barely reacted to anything they said, just staring intently at whoever was talking at the time. Apart from the occasional, "I see," or a request for a little elaboration, there was no verbal response either. Every time they'd thought he might crack he'd closed his eyes for the briefest of moments then carried on as if nothing was wrong. No one was fooled by his apparent calmness, but no one, not even Grandma, was willing to say anything.
Jeff had heard everything by the time Wentworth Lovell made it to the house. The lawyer greeted Grandma pleasantly enough, but his acknowledgement of Virgil, Scott and Gordon was perfunctory. They in turn said nothing beyond an initial hello. They'd never taken to the man. He was brilliant at his job but cold and humourless and he'd never made any attempt to be friendly despite having known them all since they were born. They were dreading his reaction to this. He'd worked hard with Jeff at the inception of International Rescue, ensuring the legalities of the operation were in place before the first piece of machinery could be constructed. If anyone could find a legitimate way out of this it would be him. Maybe if he'd been a more sympathetic character they'd have consulted him earlier, but the thought of his disapproval, plus their reluctance to make their father's weakness over Beth public had stopped them.
Jeff seemed to feel the same way, announcing that he was taking his friend up to his room to discuss the matter.
"Don't go anywhere," he said. "I'm sure Wentworth will have a few questions for you all. He can tell you what charges you're all likely to be facing if we can't think of a way out of this."
Ignoring the surprised look on the other man's face, he turned and walked from the room.
Gordon threw himself down on a couch. "Dad's taking it better than I expected," he said. "I thought he'd have lost it by now, especially after he snapped at me in the hospital."
"It's how he copes with grief," Scott said before Grandma could get a word in. "You'd be too young to remember, Gordy, but he was like this after Mom died. He just shut down."
"I remember," Virgil said, and the others looked over at him in sympathy. Virgil had had to face this side of their father far more often than the rest of them.
Upstairs, Jeff began to tell Lovell what had happened. He began with Beth's first visit to New York and worked his way right through to the end. If the situation hadn't been so dire he'd have laughed at the man's face as he listened to the story. They'd been friends for over thirty years and he'd never seen him look as shocked and appalled as he did right now.
Jeff called up John and asked him to play Beth's confession. Lovell pulled a pad and pen out of his briefcase and began to make notes. When Beth's voice finally died away he looked up at Jeff.
"Well you don't need me to tell you you're in trouble. The question is: what do you want to do about it?"
Jeff looked steadily at him. "I want International Rescue protected. I don't want Brains to suffer over this. Beth and Byron were the ones at fault. Miss Travis too. They've all paid in one way or another."
"You want to cover it up?" Lovell asked doubtfully. "Jeff, I don't think that's going to be possible. This is already a big story. Even if we do somehow manage to keep it quiet, people are going to have questions. It won't be long before some bright journalist or detective starts putting it all together. No, I think you're going to have to tell the truth. Some of it, anyway."
Jeff nodded his acceptance. "I thought you might say that. I've got a few ideas."
"I hope you do, Jeff, because your boys should have turned Bethany over to the police as soon as they found out what she'd done. As for your other man... Well, he'll have a lot of time on his hands to design equipment for International Rescue but he won't get the chance to test it out. Do you really think you can save him?"
"I'm not sure. But I'm going to try."
Everyone was called in to discuss the matter. Jeff prayed that no rescue calls came in because right now International Rescue was too busy trying to save itself to help anyone else. Alan had been dispatched in One to pick up Penny and Parker – they hadn't gone far, intending to be on hand when Jeff had been told about Beth. After the fire they'd stayed where they were in the hope that they could be of some help. Now they were to go to London, get themselves into the apartment where Beth had originally lived and remove anything incriminating. John was still kicking himself over having failed to find the place when he'd initially checked Beth out, but since Byron had had all records of her occupancy hidden when he'd had her false background set up, he knew it would have been impossible to find. Now that he knew what he was looking for, of course, it was easy to locate. Brains and Tin-Tin were on their way to pick up John. He'd have to reconfigure Five to pick up any references to the fire or the murder – they needed to be on top of what the police were saying, as well as what was going on in the press.
Finally, after hours of argument and discussion, during which Jeff actually started to feel a little more like his usual self, no longer helpless but once again taking charge, they'd come up with a plan. It wasn't an ideal situation but they thought they'd covered most eventualities. Lovell's presence would be invaluable when the inevitable questioning began, but everyone was – more or less – ready. Now all they could do was wait.
It began with the arrival of Detective Milne, along with his partner Tayla McBride. After an initial exchange of awkward greetings and commiserations on the previous night's events, the pair asked to speak to Jeff privately.
"I'd like to sit in on this," Lovell said, before Jeff could speak.
"Your lawyer?" McBride asked.
"Detective, someone accused Mr Tracy of murder then tried to kill him. It's been a stressful time and I don't believe there's anything suspicious in him wanting me present when he speaks to you."
"Do you act for all the Tracy family?" McBride asked.
"Yes, Ma'am, I'll be witnessing all your interviews. Shall we get started?"
The detectives didn't know that there were other witnesses too – John, Scott, Virgil and Grandma were listening in via Jeff's wrist-comm, ready for damage limitation or a heads-up on the kinds of questions they too would be asked.
Jeff stuck to his original story. It wasn't hard; after all, it was the truth. He'd not known Byron well, had offered his support when the man's son had been kidnapped, then had dinner with him. He'd been taken ill, helped home and that was that.
"I see," Milne said. "Now then, you said you saw Miss Travis at the funeral?"
"Yes, just before I spoke to you. She gave me a look... I should have known something was wrong at the time. She looked so... malevolent, I suppose. Understandable now that I know what she thought of me."
"But you didn't worry about it at the time?"
"I thought she'd overheard a tactless comment a friend of mine had made. I certainly didn't know the real reason behind it. I don't have a guilty conscience, Detective; I wouldn't have read anything else into it."
"I believe you have already cleared Mr Tracy of any involvement in the murder," Lovell said quietly.
"We did. But you appreciate that under the circumstances we need to look into it again."
"I understand," Jeff said, getting to his feet as the detectives indicated they'd finished with him. "But I assure you I had nothing to do with Joel Byron's murder."
"What about your son?" Milne said suddenly, surprising Jeff who sat down again with a quick glance across at Lovell.
"Which one? I have five of them."
"Virgil."
"Virgil?" Jeff's surprise was echoed by the listeners in the next room. Virgil stared at Scott in surprise. He hadn't even been on the same continent at the time of the murder. What could they possibly think he'd had to do with it?
Lovell permitted himself a theatrical laugh as Milne outlined Angie's accusation. "Surely you can't believe such a vague comment is an admission of complicity in murder, Detective? Most people would feel upset at hearing a small boy ask for help in finding his father's killer. And who wouldn't wish the situation was different?"
"That's your line," Scott whispered to a horrified Virgil. He'd had no idea who the woman he'd seen in the graveyard had been, never having seen a picture of Angie. The police still hadn't made an official statement about the cause of the fire or the identity of the arsonist, though rumours were flying thick and fast.
Jeff too laughed at the suggestion, pointing out that his son had been occupied with Tracy Industries' business out in the Pacific.
His interview over, Jeff returned to the lounge. McBride followed him and called Virgil in. The middle Tracy son tried to look unconcerned as he followed her back into the dining room.
"That's not good," Scott said as soon as the door closed.
"They can't prove anything," Jeff said. "All they have is this woman's suspicion and a couple of sentences which have any number of interpretations. Brains did a good job of covering it all up."
"He certainly did. So we just hope no one works it out?"
"That's our ideal scenario. But if they do, well at least we'll be ready for it."
Virgil eventually came back in looking slightly pale.
"How did it go?" Jeff asked.
"Okay. They asked me if I knew her. They had a picture – I said I'd seen her after the funeral when I'd gone to call Scott. Was that okay?"
"They already knew that. I don't think it's a problem. Did they give you a hard time?"
"Not really. Mr Lovell did most of the talking. I just agreed with everything he said. Now what?"
"We wait for John to get home. It's all down to him really."
By the time John had made it back to Earth the story had gone wild. Angie's involvement in the fire had been made public and people automatically jumped to the worst conclusions. Any hopes they'd had that she might be dismissed as a mad woman who might even be trying to distract attention from her own guilt were dashed when Cassandra Byron made a statement. At first they'd hoped it might work in their favour, as the woman declared that in her opinion the PA had always been slightly deranged. However, when she responded to a question with the assertion that the woman had always been in love with Joel Byron, it seemed unlikely that they'd ever be able to place the blame for his murder on her. Jeff took it well. Convenient as it would have been, there had been too many lies already.
The first pictures of Beth came out soon after, provided by various friends in London. They'd all been on edge waiting for them, wondering if this would be the moment IR's identity was revealed, but, as soon as they saw them they thought they might just get away with it. Apparently Beth's natural girl-next-door look had been adopted purely for the benefit of her uncle. The Beth in the pictures they saw was barely recognisable. The girl had apparently refused to go near a camera without at least three inches of make-up and artfully styled hair which made her look very different. The designer clothes added to the image of a girl who'd never done a hard day's work in her life – and who never intended to. Certainly no one who'd seen her out on a rescue – Grandma had obeyed Jeff's instructions and altered her uniform by the time of the Norwegian mission, but it still hadn't been a particularly flattering fit – would believe it was the same girl.
"That's something," Gordon said, his relief echoed by everyone else.
"Just as well Mr Lovell got that injunction stopping anyone printing photos of us," Scott mused. "If someone put Virgil's picture next to hers someone might well have made the connection."
Jeff just looked at the pictures in disbelief. Was that really his Beth? He didn't think he'd have recognised the girl either.
Someone did recognise her though, but not as a member of International Rescue. Within fifteen minutes of the first picture being published, one of Byron's office staff was on the phone to the police. She'd seen the girl at the company headquarters last summer and again just before Christmas. John picked up the call and had time to warn his father. Jeff wasn't surprised, but he wished the connection hadn't been made. Things were about to get really difficult and he asked John to warn Penny. She'd just arrived at Beth's apartment; she needed to search it quickly – before the police could get there.
Milne called Jeff some time later. Jeff expressed his surprise at the news and insisted that he had no idea why his niece would be visiting Byron. He couldn't help noticing that the detective was a lot less obsequious this time. Clearly he'd been looking into Joel Byron's business activities and had suspicions that the man had been involved in espionage. His hero, however unlikely it might seem, had just given himself a prime motive for murder. He might not have carried it out himself - that seemed impossible - but he was rich and influential and could easily have hired someone to do the job.
"When did this girl turn up?" Milne asked.
Jeff told him the truth, trying to sound as fond of Beth as he'd done in the past. It wasn't easy.
"Did she show any interest in your business?"
"I gave her a tour of all our facilities on the island," Jeff told him. "I hope you're not suggesting that she stole information to pass onto Mr Byron."
"Can you think of another reason for her being in contact with him before she met you?"
Jeff tried to act the role of incredulous, devoted uncle, but hearing it like that just made him realise how much of a fool he'd been to accept the girl without question. He hated it, but it was a role he'd have to play a lot over the next few weeks – maybe even for the rest of his life.
Things only got worse when Claire, Beth's friend from the escort agency, the same girl who'd helped Byron by calling about the fire at Beth's flat and sending her the second supply of the drug, sold her story to one of the tabloids. John once again picked up the initial call and was able to warn his father that not only did she promise pictures which were a little more salacious than those published so far, but that she also had information about Beth's links to Byron and was prepared to go public about her own involvement in the plot.
"It's going to come out, Dad," he warned.
"I know, John."
"You've already got a good motive for killing Byron – if the police think you found out he'd been drugging you and using Beth against you you'll be in a cell by morning. I think we have to act now."
"Do it, then."
It was the work of a matter of minutes for John to send an anonymous email to every paper and news station in the US and Britain, plus the police in New York. It gave the names of several companies which had been infiltrated by Byron's people – Tracy Industries included. He hoped it would give the police some other suspects in the murder, though his father's name was naturally going to be at the top, since he had the best motive and Angie – though she'd had no proof – had believed him to be guilty. He could prove his innocence, or at least he hoped he could – but not until Penny had done what she needed to. It was a relief when he got the call from Alan to say he was on his way back to the island with the laptop from Beth's apartment. John was going to have his work cut out to get this one right.
Jeff would have given up all his fortune – if he hadn't needed it to fund IR – if it would have got him back to Tracy Island, but over the next few days he was stuck in Kansas, alternating between police interviews, crisis meetings with Lovell and his sons and the occasional business meeting conducted via vid-phone. He wouldn't have minded being so busy if it could have taken his mind off Beth and everything else that had happened, but since it was all about her it didn't really work. She was no longer in Kansas, having been transported to a top hospital in Houston. Her mother had gone with her. Jeff had only had a brief meeting with Caroline in which he'd tried not to mention the lurid stories which had appeared in the papers that day, instead focusing on Beth's heroic actions in trying to save his mother. He'd promised he'd do all he could for the pair of them, but it had been a relief when they'd gone. He couldn't look at Caroline without feeling guilty. There was a police guard over Beth at all times now, but it was pointless – she hadn't woken up and even if she did, she wouldn't be going anywhere. The woman's job was really to keep the press away and do what she could to comfort Caroline.
It came as no surprise when the police decided they wanted to know more about Beth. The warrant to search her room on Tracy Island was served and Jeff gave his agreement to the police visit – not that he had much choice. All was in readiness anyway, with no trace of IR anywhere in sight. Wentworth Lovell had gone along too, just to keep an eye on things.
John had worked wonders with Beth's laptop which the police found sitting innocently on her bedside table. Whilst one officer took a look to see what was on there – John had made it easy for them to access her files, changing her password to her own name – another searched the room more thoroughly. By the time the first officer had found a series of emails apparently sent between Beth and Byron, the other had opened a suitcase and found the missing items taken from Byron's apartment. Virgil and Brains might have left fingerprints on the Picasso, but they'd be wearing false latex fingertips when their prints were taken and it would appear that they'd never touched it. Beth's prints of course were all over everything.
Jeff was getting good at acting surprised. He felt slightly schizophrenic these days – in private he was hard and practical, but in public – in front of the police and when running the gauntlet of the numerous journalists who still besieged Barbara Elliott's house – he was able to allow his true feelings to show. It wasn't hard to pretend to be bewildered and hurt at the news of his niece's treachery since that was exactly how he felt.
When Milne called round to tell Jeff and the others that Beth had been implicated in Byron's murder, he could sense the tension in the air.
"I don't believe it!" Jeff's rebuttal of the announcement held just the right amount of doubt.
"I'm sorry, Mr Tracy. We've got proof. A whole series of emails between Miss Ashton and Joel Byron. She stole your company secrets, then, when it seemed that you'd taken a shine to her and wanted to settle money on her, she decided that she'd leave Byron in the lurch. He wasn't happy. Apparently the kidnapping was an attempt to gain your favour and psyche out Miss Ashton. There were a few mutual threats of blackmail but it looked like a stalemate."
"So she killed him?" Jeff wanted to divert attention from International Rescue's involvement. John had written an email apparently from Byron in which he boasted of giving his boy the treat of his life by calling International Rescue in to 'save' him. It was the only way he could think of to prevent anyone linking IR to his father. The police had put out a call to International Rescue asking for a copy of the original call for help, but IR had only been able to offer their apologies along with the news that all calls were deleted 'for security purposes' the moment a rescue was completed. No one would ever be able to prove anything.
"I'm afraid so. Miss Travis got it wrong. Maybe she couldn't understand Miss Ashton turning against Mr Byron. But she did."
"But I don't understand," Jeff said slowly. He truly was nervous about the next part. John had done a sterling job in setting up a false trail of emails – he'd assured his father that there were only a few people in the world who could have worked out that they were all fake, and none of them were likely to be helping the police any time soon – but there was still the problem of Brains. "How did she do it? You said yourself that the security cameras at my apartment block showed that no one left."
"That's what confused us. But we had a little chat with your friend, Mr Hackenbacker."
"Brains? What's he got to do with it?"
"It seems he had something of a crush on Miss Ashton."
Jeff cringed inwardly, knowing how hard the interview would have been for Brains. That was the main reason he'd insisted Lovell accompany the officers over to the island. They'd kept to the truth – in spirit if not in practice – for most of this, but this was the one time when they'd had to lie. Jeff saw no point in sacrificing Brains when the murderer herself would never face justice. Brains had protested, insisting that he was a hopeless actor and he'd probably just drop them all in it, but Jeff had insisted, running through the story time and time again until the man knew it inside out. Of course, it had all been in the delivery, but this time Brains' legendary nervousness had worked in his favour. As he'd blushed and stammered his account he'd looked every inch like a man who was utterly humiliated by the fact that he'd fallen in love with a girl way out of his league and allowed himself to be manipulated by her. As a result the police truly believed that Beth, having seen the security devices he was working on, had asked for a demonstration then used the looped tape he'd set up to give herself an alibi when she'd slipped out later that night to Byron's apartment. He'd sworn he'd known nothing of the murder, and, having nothing to gain by pursuing him, not now that they'd solved the case to their satisfaction, the police had let the matter drop.
And so it all worked out. Beth's transition from heroine to villain was complete. Up till then there had still been an air of romance and danger about her and the press loved it. She was beautiful, daring and utterly fascinating – even if she was a liar and a crook – and her terrible fate gave her an air of tragedy. But murder was another matter. There was much debate as to what to do about her, but, when several eminent doctors examined her and all gave the same verdict as to her chances of recovery, it was agreed that there was no point in prosecuting.
Jeff had to cope with the embarrassment of having the world see him as a somewhat sad figure, taken in by a girl who reminded him of his dead wife, but, whereas he'd expected his standing in the business community to suffer, in fact the opposite happened. Other companies had had secrets stolen by Byron, but he'd never had to go to the lengths he had with Jeff Tracy. Once again the former astronaut stood out over his rivals. It would take a while for the press attention to die down – Jeff thought it would be a long time before he could face going back to New York – but it would happen eventually and then he could settle back into normality.
Making good the damage Beth had done to the family was another matter. One good thing came out of it all – Beth's complicity in the attack on Tin-Tin hadn't been made public, but some of John's fake emails dealt with the matter and there was enough information in there for the police to find and charge the attacker. Tin-Tin at least could find some closure.
More difficult to mend was the relationship between Jeff and his sons. Gordon and Alan were quick to forgive, pleased that their father seemed to be getting back to normal. As the days had passed he'd lost the edge to his attitude as he'd started to come to terms with all that had happened. He'd become more like the Jeff Tracy they knew. The older brothers weren't quite so sure though – they had a feeling that when the initial crisis was over and the family was left alone to try to return to normality, things would come to a head again.
Jeff knew what they were thinking. He'd done a lot of thinking himself over the past few days too. He wished none of it had ever happened, he wished things had turned out differently and that none of it had got out into the public domain, but since it had, he thought things had turned out quite well. No one had made any connection between International Rescue and the Tracys and for that he was willing to sacrifice his personal dignity. He wasn't willing to give up anything else, however, and, his initial anger and resentment long gone, he focused now on restoring relationships with his mother – easily done, she blamed Beth for everything anyway – and his boys.
Jeff had debated calling everyone together to discuss what had happened. Then he decided against it. Everyone deserved the chance to have their say and, if he was honest, whilst it was hard to have the same conversation several times over, it was easier to show his vulnerability in front of one person rather than several. There could be no face-saving here, no hiding his feelings. He had to be honest, however awkward it made him feel.
Scott and John turned out to be easy enough after all. Jeff did a lot of straight-talking, apologising for his behaviour, refusing to use the excuse that he'd been drugged. He was completely open with them, sharing his initial feelings of anger and resentment, asking them for their support in what he knew would be a difficult few months. They insisted they were just glad to get their father back, but Jeff knew it would take a while for him to prove he really was back to normal.
And then there was Virgil. Jeff didn't want to go back to the island without making sure things were fine between himself and his middle son. Virgil had done everything he could to help over the past few days, but Jeff couldn't help feeling a degree of tension that hadn't been present with his other sons. Even after discussing what had happened and apologising once again for his behaviour, especially after the Malaysian tragedy, it had still been there. He'd wanted to ask Scott about it, but he'd decided he needed to tackle it himself. If Virgil still resented him for all the things he'd done – and Jeff wouldn't really blame him if he did, although it was unlike his son to bear a grudge, even over something as awful as this – then Jeff needed to know about it. There could be no more secrets.
Virgil hadn't been too enthusiastic when Jeff announced that they needed another talk. He'd looked up nervously as his father came into the room and Jeff wondered if his son was once again worrying that his appearance would be causing his father pain. It wasn't. He was glad to see one person with those looks fit and well and he'd never have chosen Beth over Virgil – not if he was in his right mind, anyway - and he hoped his son knew that.
They made their way into the garden and sat down on a bench which Jeff brushed clear of snow. Neither man said anything at first. Then Jeff turned to his son and looked him straight in the eye. "What's wrong Virgil?"
"Nothing."
"Something's bothering you, son. I'd like to get it sorted if I can. When we go home I want a fresh start for everyone. Can't you tell me?"
Virgil looked a little surprised at the gentleness of his father's tone. Even so, he said nothing for a moment, kicking out at the snow as he tried to collect his thoughts.
"Virgil, I'm sorry for everything I did. Especially all the things I did to you."
Virgil looked up at him with genuine surprise. "I know, I told you it's over and done with. You think that's what's bothering me?"
"Isn't it?"
"No. Dad, I'm the one who should be apologising."
Jeff suddenly understood. He should have guessed they'd end up having this conversation – he should have said something sooner but he'd been in damage limitation mode when the topic had come up initially and then it had been forgotten amongst the more urgent matters.
"It wasn't your fault, Virgil."
"Yes it was. If it wasn't for me none of this would have happened. I should have-"
"Virgil, I know you're blaming yourself for not locking the door, but you need to stop. That woman came here looking to cause trouble, she'd have found a way whether the door was open or not."
"I know that, Dad. Although she probably wouldn't have come here if she hadn't heard me talking to Scott, would she? But if the door hadn't been open maybe the house would still be standing and Beth would be okay. It was the propane bottle that did the most damage. That wouldn't have happened if I'd only checked the door."
Jeff shook his head. "No, son. If you want to go down the 'what if' route then you might as well blame me – I should have told you to lock up before you went to bed, not just assumed you'd do it."
"But-"
"What if you boys hadn't brought Beth to Kansas? What if Scott had stayed in the house that night? What if Beth hadn't killed Byron or Brains hadn't helped her cover it up? What if she'd never met Byron in the first place? What if she didn't look like your mother? Hell, what if I'd never met your mother? None of this would have happened then. But it did, and no amount of regret is going to change anything. The unlocked door was just one link in a very long chain. It's finished now, Virgil. What's done is done, there's no going back."
Virgil didn't look any happier. "I read the doctor's report on Beth," he told his father. "I can't help feeling guilty."
"You didn't start the fire. Virgil, what happened to Beth was a terrible tragedy but she has to take some responsibility herself. She trained with Scott, she should have listened to him when he told her not to go running off. This was no different to any other rescue. Scott's the Field Commander and what he says goes. I'd like to think she went after your grandmother because she really did want to save her, but I know she might just have been trying to do something to help herself. Either way it cost her dearly. But it's her fault, not yours.
"Everyone has made mistakes over the past few months," Jeff went on. "You, me, everyone. Probably the only person who has nothing to reproach themselves with is Kyrano. You boys shouldn't have tried to deal with all this yourselves and Grandma should have known better than to encourage it. Brains should never have helped Beth cover up the murder, even if he did do it to help me. And then of course there's my culpability in all of this."
"You were drugged," Virgil pointed out. "You didn't know what you were doing."
"True. But I'd already allowed myself to be blinded by the fact that she looked like your mother. I thought she'd share all her good qualities. I brought Beth to the island, I ignored all your warnings. And I'd been thinking about it since I met her, not just when she started giving me that stuff. It only made things happen more quickly. I wanted her to be part of the family, I wanted to tell her about IR. It would have happened eventually. I can't absolve myself of all responsibility for this."
"But you didn't know what was going to happen."
"None of us did, Virgil. The only people to blame here are Miss Travis and Joel Byron. And Beth. It took a while, but I understand why you boys acted as you did. And you were right about one thing. International Rescue had to be protected. I'm not letting all our work be undone because of this. We need to get back into action, the sooner the better."
Virgil nodded. He wanted to get back to Base too. Maybe there they could all put things back into perspective.
"Come on, "Jeff said. "Let's go home."
