Okay, what can I say? I'm a bad person. I made this chapter extra long to make up for the inexcusable delay. Thanks to all reviewers, for your patience as well as your reviews, and thanks especially to those of you that emailed me directly.

Chapter 13

July 2004

Jack Malone stood outside the crumbling apartment block and signed deeply. He scrubbed one hand over his face, and for maybe the 10,000th time in his life wished he'd picked a different career, a doctor, teacher, lawyer, anything. At least he'd get some sleep every once in a while, and wouldn't be standing outside an apartment watching the only suspect in the kidnapping and disappearance of one of his team being carted away in a body bag.

He could see his worries reflected in the others as well, in Danny's tightened jaw, Sam's faraway look. Even Vivian, standing apart from them notebook in hand, talking to the coroner.

They weren't given to emotion, none of them, it was necessary in their line of work, and Jack knew that at times he came across as heartless, he also knew that he and Martin had their differences over the past few weeks.

He felt guilty, but then what was the point in guilt?

Jack shook his head, hoping to clear his mind and instead focused on Vivian Johnson who was making his way over to him.

"Death by strangulation, that's the initial finding. According to the coroner he's been dead for at least three days, maybe 4."

"And Martin's been missing for five." Jack couldn't help signing. "Which more or less rules him out."

"Not necessarily" Sam added as she and Danny joined them. "He could have been behind it, I mean it could have been his idea, maybe someone else is involved with him?"

"Look, whatever happened, he's no good to us now." Danny almost snapped.

"Taylor!" Jack's warning tone silenced the younger agent, who threw an apologetic look to the others before continuing. "He's still involved. Everything fits, his getting out of prison, what happened to him, Martin's involvement. Sam, didn't you go through Martins phone records?"

The blond agent nodded. "The calls started about two months ago, from payphones all across the city, they were pretty random and spread out."

"This means there could easily have been more than one person involved." Jack added. "Sam, you and Vivian go back and find Jameson's girlfriend, find out exactly what he did from the time he got out of prison until now. Stan has a brother, seems that he's been in trouble more than once himself, see if the girl knows anything about him."

As Vivian and Sam walked away from the house the body of Stan Jameson was brought out encased in a black body bag and deposited in the back of the waiting ambulance. Danny couldn't help the rising panic he felt inside of him.

He thought back to the last conversation he and Martin had, four days previously, to the obvious worry he had seen reflected in the other's eyes, and to the fact that he had chosen not to pursue it. He was tired; they both were, having flown for four hours previously. But he'd meant to talk to Martin the next day, maybe meet him for breakfast. But instead he'd gotten a phone call from Jack at three a.m. saying Martin's car was found abandoned a block from his apartment and that Martin was nowhere to be found. And now they were standing here.

Jack's voice snapped the dark haired agent back to reality.

"Danny, you and I are bringing Mr Jameson in for questioning. I have a feeling he knows more than he's letting on."

Danny nodded and with one backward glance at the retreating ambulance he followed Jack down the street.

&&&&&&&&&

Patrick Jameson needed a drink. He'd just started his second bottle of whiskey when two NYPD agents arrived and escorted him to the FBI headquarters. Now he was sitting in a small room containing only a table and three chairs, one of which he occupied and the second of which was occupied by Jack Malone.

And his youngest son was dead.

"Mr Jameson, this is Agent Taylor." Jack indicated to Danny who was standing in one corner of the room, arms folded. He had already noted the man's shaking hands, which combined with the obvious sour smell and slightly glazed look in the man eyes pointed to a long term alcoholic. He'd been around a few before.

"Mr Jameson" Jack continued. "Tell me about your sons."

"What's there to tell?" The man looked at Jack, resignation written all over his creased and lined countenance. "Man should be able to be proud of his sons, you know, after their Mom died, there was only the three of us, and I done what I could, but there wasn't much work going, you know. They did what they had to do to survive. I'm not proud of how they turned out, but what could I do? We had to get food, to live somehow.

"So you're saying your son's stole food?" Jack tried to keep his voice neutral.

"Sure, groceries, clothes whatever. Just enough to live on…they were good boys then, even got the odd bottle of something for their old Pop, you know?"

Danny could feel the disgust rising inside of him. "You mean they stole alcohol for you, right?"

The older man whipped his head around. "Sure they did, and I ain't proud of it, but I was ill a lot, you know, I couldn't work."

"I'm sure it was a very difficult time" Danny Taylor's voice dripped sarcasm but Jack didn't rebuke him this time.

"Was that why Stan decided to kidnap Martin?" Jack Malone continued. "For the money. For you?"

"How the hell do I know?" Mr Jameson was getting agitated now. He needed a drink. Badly. "How do I know what went through that boy's head. He was too clever for me, Michael, he worshipped him, would have done whatever Stan told him too….he was so much younger than Stan……"

His voice trailed off.

"Michael, that's Stan's brother?" Jack

Patrick Jameson nodded.

An idea came to Danny Taylor and he walked over to the table and sat down on the edge of it.

"Mr Jameson, was Michael involved, the time Martin Fitzgerald was kidnapped?" He looked directly at the man, his gaze not wavering.

He could almost hear Patrick Jameson decided whether or not to tell the truth, could see the dilemma in the man's eyes.

"Mr Jameson, I know they're your sons, but we have to find out what happened to our colleague and hopefully in the process we can find out what happened to your son."

Patrick Jameson sighed deeply and scrubbed his hand over his face. He was too old for this, too old to lose a son, too old to be sitting here. He just wanted to be left alone.

"Yes." His voice was raspy, as if he was speaking against his will.

"What happened?" Danny pressed.

"Stan, he told Michael to befriend that Fitzgerald kid, they lived just down the road and the kid was always in the garden playing on his own. So Michael and he got friendly, you know and then….

"And then Stan kidnapped Martin." Jack concluded.

"Yeah, something like that." Patrick Jameson mumbled.

"Mr Jameson." Danny stood up, again fixing his gaze on the older man. "Do you think Michael is involved in all this?"

Jack knew where Danny was going with this, but he wasn't sure if the younger agent was taking the right approach.

However in the silence that followed, Patrick Jameson's face twisted up Jack could see the involuntary tears forming in the man's eyes. His shoulders began to shake violently.

For a long time the room was silent, save the sound of Mr Jameson's sobs.

"You don't understand…" the man finally composed himself enough to speak. "You don't understand what its been like. I was ill, I….I couldn't work……Those boys….they were all I had….I wanted them to turn out ok, I didn't want this to happen, any of it….

"Mr Jameson" Danny prompted quietly.

"YES!" the man finally shouted. "Yes, ok, you want to know what I know? Do you? Michael killed Stan, ok? My son killed my other son. Do you understand?"

The same thought came to Danny and Jack at the exact same time, they could see the realisation dawning in each other's eyes.

Stan Jameson had nothing to do with Martin's disappearance, it had been Michael Jameson all along.