Chapter 75 - Part 1

Robert Shaw held Christian's body. Under the moonlight, the pale face of the young man looked smooth like a candle's wax and his lips were bruised blue. The detective stared at the mark of the rope line and the red scratches on his neck when he removed the thin cord.

He searched for a pulse. With the corner of his eye, he looked at Billy who also lay lifeless on the cemetery path. He rushed towards him, leaving Christian behind. A moment later, he stood up. He gritted his teeth. Brushed the sweat off his brow with the palm of his hand.

The breeze rattled the tops of the trees. He heard more police officers coming his way.

"We need an ambulance, God damn it!" He shouted.

The police detective could not stay there any longer. He had to go. The conditions of this operation were changing by the minute and he already feared he had fallen behind. MacDonald would not act like a sitting duck, waiting to be caught. He briefed the two men who approached and left without looking back. If he had stayed a little while longer, he would see the Duke himself appearing from the inside of the Grandchester mausoleum.

Richard Grandchester was not a man who sat idle either. Especially when the person who had been on the run was his son. All the time it took him to reach the other end of the underground tunnel and come out in the open air, flashbacks of his youth - when Eleanor had been pregnant, when she had given him Terry, when everything seemed possible for a while - played at the back of his mind.

He had only one wish. To speak to Christian.

But when he saw the two men crouching over a couple of fallen bodies...

He realised he may had been too late. Not by ten years-late. The irony the aged aristocrat felt weighing him down, having turned all the muscles in his body numb, was that it took just a minute's delay to push the hands of fate, to turn the possible into impossible.

He approached the men and was informed of what needed to be done. All the feelings and all the thoughts which may had been turning inside his mind stopped. They were locked behind a face that did not let anything to be revealed. A servant who had followed behind him received the immediate order from the Duke.

"Bring a car to the Grandchester mausoleum without a moment to waste. We need to go to the hospital-

"NOW!"

After the alarm had been raised at the headquarters of Scotland Yard, more and more police officers came. Like ants they swarmed the cemetery and its perimeter. Time counted backwards for MacDonald and his two henchmen, loaded with the Grandchester loot.

Every single place, where the gang leader could have gone, was surveilled. The Blind Beggar, Charles' house, other places of associates he frequented, a warehouse at the London Docks where they had taken Christian to meet with the Wag for the first time. Robert had left no corner unattended. He had a file on the notorious gang leader as thick as an encyclopaedia volume.

Robert was leading the operation. Word came from the team who were keeping an eye to the warehouse at the London Docks. Two cars had approached. Whether or not, it was the gang leader inside those cars, the detective had to take his chances. He ordered for all the man power he had under his command to approach the warehouse.

The moon has high on the summer sky. A sky full of floating, veiled ghosts . Such a fog was a wish and a curse for such a night. Facing the devil in his own turf. There was no time to lose. He shouldn't let him organise his people or his thoughts.

He gave the signal. His officers had spotted MacDonald's guards. Having used the fog as their ally, they caught them by surprise. The orders were to act in complete silence. Once the whole building had been secured from the outside, Robert walked towards the main door of the warehouse.

"Charles, you have been surrounded."

Robert's strong voice sounded loud and clear in the quiet of the night, outside the harbour warehouse. The silence returned even deadlier than before. There was no indication of movement from inside the warehouse.

"I suggest you and your men, come out quietly, one by one."

Another silent pause followed.

"Don't make your position worse than what it is already..."

More armed men came and took position around the main door of the warehouse. The tension between them and Robert could be felt and could be seen on their faces and their focused eyes on that door that remained shut. Their police guns were drawn and ready to shoot. All stood silent and still as if trapped inside some artist's painting, and the tension floated around them like that heavy haze which had enveloped London that fateful summer night.

"If you don't come out in the next five minutes..." Robert shouted.

Time passed, measured by the heartbeats inside the chest of the men, that was rising and falling with each breath. Robert's patience was running out. Soon he would have to decide whether to enter the warehouse by force and-

The door opened. Robert raised his arm up, having his fist closed, asking for his men to wait.

MacDonald's men started coming out, one by one. They were all armed and none of them held theirs arms up in surrender, but they were rather good and ready to open fire if they had to.

Be calm, lads...

He said quietly between his teeth. The situation between the two sides was as precarious as trying to balance a needle on a rope.

Be calm...

Robert once more whispered. He could swear his heart beat sounded louder than his voice. The minutes ticked away and the fingers closed tighter around the triggers. But the moment they all were waiting for, came. The leader of the Elephant Boys, came out the door last.

The two men locked stares. Robert walked closer. Despite the confident, fearless face of the most powerful gang leader in London, Charles did not look well. His moves were slow. He looked pale. The jacket hung on his shoulders rather than wearing it the proper way. It looked like he had his left arm on a made up sling which mattered not much, since his right arm was fine and could shoot a bullet to his enemy with the blink of an eye.

Robert stopped in front of his foe; the man who had been number one on his "wanted" list for years. Since he had joined Scotland Yard, Charles MacDonald had taunted the police. Leaving no trace of his involvement, he took great care to burn every loose thread, cover every step that led to him. He was never been caught, and yet he ruled almost all the criminal underworld of the capital city.

"I am glad to see you too, Detective Shaw."

"Let's cut to the chase, Charles. What were you doing outside the Highgate Cemetery?"

Charles left a weak laugh, and his eyes were cold as the sound of his laughter.

"I wish I could tell you, but you caught me at a bad moment."

The gang leader pulled his jacket to the side, just enough for Robert to realise his shirt was soaked with blood.

"I need to go to the hospital, Detective."

"Not before, you are all searched." Robert said. The Detective did not move an inch from where he stood. The two men kept staring at each other.

"By all means, but I doubt you'll find what you are looking for."

"Men!" The Detective shouted to the police officers. "Search everyone and everything inside the warehouse."

"You really have it in for me, Detective..."

"It's nothing personal, Charles."

MacDonald's eyes were dark, his pupils were dilated like two huge wells. Even to Robert, a hardened detective who knew who was standing against him, that empty stare that confessed of being ready for everything, gave him the shivers.

"Oh I think it is... But you see, even you came second..." Charles said. "Oh! third even... now that I think of it. If you manage to lock me up and with the Raven gone, perhaps then our poor detective can eat whatever crumps are left out from Alice's lap..."

His men came out the warehouse. "There is nothing inside, sir!"

"Search him!"

Charles is made to spread his legs and puts his non-injured arm up. He winced for a split moment. It was becoming more and more obvious, time was something that none of the two men had. Even if that was for different reasons.

All the while the line of eye contact between the pursued and his pursuer remained unbroken.

The officer turned back to Robert. The look in his eyes was that of defeat. A wide smile had started to dawn on Charles' lips.

"I need to go, if you can excuse me." He said to Robert.

His pale blue eyes sparkled. He was openly mocking the Scotland Yard detective. Robert let Charles make a few steps.

"Not so fast, Charles." He raised his voice and turned his back to face the criminal who was walking towards his car.

Charles stopped. But he did not turn in response. He remained with his back facing Robert. "What now, Robert? I don't have time for your fucking gam-"

"Charles MacDonald, you are under arrest for the kidnapping of Rose White. You are also under arrest as an accomplish to the murder of Tom Duffy who was involved with your man up in Glasgow to carry out the kidnapping and then was murdered since he was no longer needed. He had been promised a meeting with you in London... Unfortunately for you, your representative up North did not wait long before singing... "

"You better drive me to the hospital then, Detective. If you wish to see me alive in in prison..." Charles replied.

Robert noticed the slight effort in his voice. Charles turned. Blood had started soaking his shirt. He nailed Robert with those cold like ice, pale blue eyes of his. In fact, they were mocking him.

Under the silver moon, everything is visible and everything is hidden

In the long shadows, is where the monsters hide.

So stay away from the shadows, my love.

Stay away, don't even look.

Just walk past and come into my arms.

I am waiting...

It was almost eleven o'clock in the evening. The moving train shone like a beam of light under July's full moon.

Candy and Terry entered the cabin they had booked for their overnight journey to London, having spent the best part of the evening at the restaurant carriage. Upon Candy's insistence and Terry's surprise, it has to be said.

He actually had expected them to spend the time just the two of them to dine inside their cabin, but he had thought wrong. Candy wanted to go out. To be around people as she had put it.

He had not objected. Candy did not seem to be herself at all.

After that blessed moment when the police had arrived at the scene, where Terry and her abductor were negotiating for Terry to take Candy's place, she had been unusually quiet. Emotional even. Eyes that shone with the promise of tears. Terry had repeated to her a few times that their ordeal was over.

"I know..." She had responded, every time with a squeeze of his hand.

Once the criminal had been escorted to the police vehicle, the Chief of police, under the judgmental, angry stare of Terry, had apologised to them both; especially to Candy.

"You had promised, nothing bad was going to happen to her." Terry had growled. Lightnings were lighting up his turquoise stare. At that moment, it had been Candy's soft touch on his arm that kept his temper from escalating.

The Police Constable acknowledged Terry's right to be upset, angry, yes, he understood. Indeed, they had not taken into account several parameters and their target had almost outsmarted them. Their reaction had been slow and there was a moment when the whole operation had been touch-and-go. If it was wasn't for Candy's quick thinking and Terry's bravery... Even if the latter had been verging on the side of madness, it had to be mentioned.

Terry had remained silent. It was for the best. The situation could not have become any more complicated and he was now desperate for them to head back to London, where all the more he had come to realise it would be the place for tough decisions, for everyone concerned. A lot of things right now had been in the air.

The police Constable had thanked them both. They had pulled through. They were not needed any further, if so they wished to be on that train to London. The police in Glasgow and Scotland Yard in London would take care of the rest. They boarded the train with mixed feelings. A night stood between the now and what awaited for them in London.

She had not found the peace she had expected inside her heart and mind. She had been relieved. That was without a doubt. Of course she was! There was no question about it. But what she had not counted for, were the questions and the feelings which were born as a consequence after what took place.

It was obvious, no matter how much she tried to hide it. Her body might had been on that train with Terry, but her mind definitely was not. Despite Candy wanting to be around people, she had been uncharacteristically quiet at the dinner table. Not that Terry had pushed her to talk. Having been through a lot, both she and he, but she in particular, he had preferred instead to keep a quiet "eye" on her. They had left the restaurant only when the waiter politely asked them if they would retire to their cabin since it was approaching eleven in the evening and they would close for the night.

Candy heard the clicking sound of the door closing behind Terry. The muffled conversations of fellow passengers who were walking down the corridor reached her ears before they fainted away. Under other circumstances, she would have welcomed the quietness. This time was different.

He asked her if she was ok. She nodded her head. She just hummed and hawed instead of giving a clear answer. How could she give a clear answer when she was not ok? While on board the ship to Oban, with the trauma of her first abduction still quite raw, she had decided to push on despite everything, just to help Christian. She would not forgive herself if something happened to him.

From the moment when they had entered the carriage and left Glasgow behind them, the events that took place on the isle of Barra and later at the Glasgow Central felt like a surreal nightmare; like an out of body experience Candy could not return back from, as much as she tried. She always thought of herself of being as tough as old boots, given her experiences in life from a very young age. But that man on the train had unsettled her down to the marrow of her bones. He had been truly frightening. More so than any other person who's presence felt like a threat to Candy. If this man followed orders, what would his boss be like? The one who blackmailed Christian...

For them, she knew the danger had seized to exist, for now at least. One man was dead and the other captured. The journey back to London should be relatively safe. What awaited for them when they would arrive, scared her even more. Everything depended on whether MacDonald's man would speak in the interrogation room, back in Glasgow. Not an easy task, but they had to hope on something.

"You hardly touched your food...

Within the confined space of the cabin, she found herself struggling even more than before.

"I just need to freshen up..." She said, avoiding to answer to Terry's comment.

While Terry's eyes followed her, she made her way to the bathroom. She closed the door behind her. She looked at herself on the bathroom mirror. The big bruise on her cheek was showing under the powder she had applied earlier before they had made their way to the restaurant. Her green eyed gaze had the gloss of someone who had passed the point of feeling tired. She turned the water tap and splashed her face. Took the towel and patted it dry. Gave one more look at herself and smoothed the fabric of her dress. She was still in the same clothes.

Suddenly she stopped what she was doing. Pushed her hand inside her pocket and took out the lipstick... The one that saved her life a few hours ago.

On the road, T.G.

She "saw" the letters taking shape on the bathroom mirror.

Like a reel of a film in motion, illuminated by the flickering flame of a candle, what took place a few hours ago began unravelling inside her head. Her body tensed. The lack of sound, made the repeating images more disturbing. With her hands clasped together in front of her chest as if she was praying, she pinched the soft mound of flesh on her palm, wanting to bring herself back to the present. Her heartbeat accelerated. Her sight blurred with fresh tears.

She tried damn hard of allowing herself to think only rational thoughts but it was almost impossible to command her mind to do so. The moment she closed her eyes, she was able to hear the gruff voice of her captor, see his "dead" stare fixed on her face, feel the sweat of his palm closing hard around her hand.

Goosebumps swept her body and made the fine hair on her skin to stand up. A deep seated sense of anxiety overwhelmed her. She tried to calm down, but to no avail. Worry and fear for what may lie ahead of them squeezed her chest like a tight fist. The air around her felt thin.

Candy, the girl who had fought on her own for her entire life while growing up, shielding every painful feeling behind those green eyes of hers that were smiling always... Never wanting anyone to worry for her.

Little one, you look more beautiful when you smile...

Even now as an adult woman, she could still hear Albert's voice clear in her mind.

Smile Candy, smile...

She heard Terry knocking at the door but she did not respond.

Candy!

Her name echoed in her ears. The room started spinning around her. She felt dizzy. Tears pooled inside her eyes. Thoughts, dark and fearful rushed inside her mind. They gripped her heart, they stole her breath away. Her knees buckled.

The door opened.

His arms closed around her. Terry's chest on her back.

The warmth of his chest...

He pulled her up inside his arms. Took a couple of strides before he reached the bed. He knelt and laid her down. He sat next to her. The tears that flowed from her closed eyes were drawing warm paths on her flushed face. His fingers on her forehead felt cool when they pushed her hair back.

"I am here, Candy. I won't let anyone harm you."

His voice was warm, unwavering. She knew she could count on Terry. He loved her. He would put his life on the line for her, without a second thought.

Those were facts which did not offer her peace. Instead-

She felt guilt. In quantities enough to drown her. It might had been Christian's life and Christian's actions which had pushed him in this dangerous world of crime and darkness, things she did not know and had never forced Christian to tell her. Things and people she never thought they would affect her, and yet they did. In fact, she had accepted his excuses without any doubting. She came to realise it had suited her that way

The Candy she knew from the past, the one who used to lose her sleep unless she had solved the problems of others, would not have rested until she had found the real danger and would have done everything to help Christian. The signs had been there. The disappearances, the fake excuses, Christian's stabbing. She was now certain that this horrible accident also must have been linked with Christian's double life. Terry had tried to warn her and she had sent him to hell, having turned into hysterics. She had angered him so much...

How could she have become so selfish? Had switched her name, desperate to run away from her past and all she had succeeded was to become self-centred, caring only for herself, her needs, seeking the now, a good time, pleasure -

Love...

"Freckles, look at me, please..." He pleaded with her, sounding worried.

She opened her eyes. An urgent stream of sobs invaded her throat. He pulled her towards him. His lips were tight. Eyes full of worry. He cursed in silence. He had felt a lot of things the past couple of days, but the most prevailing feeling inside Terry was anger. A slow burning, ever present anger. It had more than one targets.

Christian, fate, himself.

Especially himself.

Of course, he had been angry with Christian who had kept this double life of his, hidden from Candy, while he had been with her. There was no excuse if he had decided to straighten up afterwards. Terry had no idea what was the reason for Christian to turn into a criminal, even if that criminal was the darling of the working class, the poor and destitute who lived at the margins of London's society. Terry did not care for any of that sort of justifications which only served Christian. He cared about Candy. Only about her. Christian tried to shield her, it had to be said, but his attempt came too late and it was too little.

And fate...

Fate had never stood gentle or charitable with Terry. He already knew this from a long time ago. But he also had understood another thing. It was not fate that decided what life one would lead. It was how each one dealt with the hand Fate had served them.

His love for the girl he had met so long ago, on board of Mauritania, had been a turning point for him. She had taught him to stand up, to face his demons. Before he met Candy, the shortcomings in his life were his own excuses to behave like a bastard with a destructive streak that targeted him alone. Candy's love had saved him. It had never left him. He had come back to London with only hope to find her. Fate had thrown him yet again another curveball with Christian's name on it... He had been the man in Candy's life. Still, Terry was willing to fight for Candy's love. Until he found he was also his twin brother.

He regretted the way he handled the news. How fury had taken him hostage. His whole world had turned upside down and he had left himself to be lost inside the storm of his feelings, yet again. Abandoning the one person he loved the most in his life. He had proved unable to protect her.

Even now, he stood there, with Candy in his arms, with a sense of powerlessness pervading his whole being. He did not respond straight away, nor did he move away from her. He kept her within his arms, while she was crying. He gritted his teeth. There was no time for self-hatred or anger. There would be time to deal with his feelings. She needed him.

He whispered her name. Made her look up at him. She looked fragile and distraught with her bloodshot green-eyed stare gracing her flushed cheeks, wet with tears. Tenderness flowed inside him, as immense as a tidal wave.

She framed his face between her open hands. Felt the bristles of his unshaven skin prickling her palms. He was sleepless, tired and bruised, but for her he was the man she had been in love with for what it felt like a lifetime. Beautiful inside and out. She shuddered to think he could have been harmed because of her.

Her voice trembled under the weight of the feelings she was trying damn hard to control, just enough so she could speak. Tell him the three words she would never tire of telling him.

"I love you, Terry."

There was a lump stuck right in the middle of Terry's throat, not allowing him to respond.

"Candy..."

Seeing Candy's breakdown, he was beating himself up for having being such a dick back in Barra, and what his actions brought as a consequence and yet Candy's only statement was one of love, so simple and so unexpected and powerful that stole his ability to speak.

He brushed her lips with his thumb, loving them even more for it was from them the words left her mouth.

His life, his heart were forever linked with her. He took her hands inside his. Kissed her open palms and placed them on his chest, over his beating heart.

"For as long as it beats, my heart is yours, Candy."

With her hands still placed on his heart, he took her face with his. His eyes were fixed on hers, where the teardrops were hanging by her wet eyelashes.

"You are my life."

His lips covered hers. He wished to take her fears away. Dry her tears. Silence her sobs.

He kissed her a kiss he had no intension of ending. A kiss that deepened with time. Turned into a need, transformed into an urge, unstoppable and palpable in the air and in their moves. Wanting to cover under each other's skin,

feel,

feel,

To be one. Like a warm wind, it fanned the flames. They became a fire and lit their fingers, their stares, their breaths. The caresses burned their flesh when each item of clothing was removed in haste and was tossed on the side. Like the regrets which had weighed them down and had dragged them into dark waters, they both wished of them to be absolved.

Their heartbeats quickened, turned into a relentless rhythm. They made love, and it was desperate and urgent. It blazed its path within the darkness like a falling star. It burned the past and cancelled the future. It was only that moment that mattered, when she was in his arms, feeling her naked body under his, his hands clasping hers, keeping them still, trusting him, rocking inside her with her legs wrapped around him, pushing him deeper, to feel him to the limit, satisfy the hunger of their souls for each other. Fighting to reduce the guilt into ashes.

For they loved the other with every single drop of sweat and tear, every breath and every heartbeat, with everything, with every single thing that made them who they were.

It must had been deep into the night when Candy opened her eyes. After their lovemaking, sleep fell heavy on their tired eyelids. It had been a while since they had slept peacefully in each other's arms.

Their cabin was dark. Only the moon was casting its light, through the windows of the train cabin that was speeding through the open countryside, causing the shadows to move as if they were dancing.

She turned and looked at Terry who was still asleep. His face was peaceful. Only the crease between his brows confessed the turmoil they had experienced the past couple of days. She touched the edge of his brow with the tips of her fingers. The small scar had been was still fresh. Christian was responsible for the stitches she had removed earlier on the isle of Barra. Another question she had left unanswered.

She sighed. The guilt over the selfishness with which she had acted since Terry had arrived, remained. It only had turned a little more bearable. She got up and threw her silk robe over her naked body. She walked over to the small table where a water carafe was and poured herself a glass of water. She took it and sat down on the seat that was by the cabin's window. She rested her gaze on the moonlit countryside and let her thoughts flow with the same speed with which the images outside changed.

She wondered about Christian. She had lost touch with him for more than a week. She still remembered the letter Terry had given her when they met on the train. How she had sprung up from her seat, ready to stop the train, return to London to help him. She kept pushing at the back of her mind any possibility that he may had been harmed in any way. The fact that MacDonald's man had targeted her, however frightening it may had been, it reassured her that Christian was still alive. They just needed to get back in time to London and find him.

While deep in thoughts, she felt Terry's hand on her shoulder. It brought her back to the cabin.

She turned her head up and saw him looking down at her.

"I wanted some water." She said to him and her eyes turned to the glass she was still holding.

He didn't respond. He just sat next to her. Took the glass from her hand and put it aside before taking her hand into his.

"I shouldn't have left you alone. None of this would have happened if I hadn't acted like an asshole back in Barra." He said and fixed his eyes on hers.

Both had made mistakes though. She took a breath and swallowed the air before she spoke with a quiet voice, almost whispering.

"Terry... I really couldn't-

I wasn't able to-

And we... after so long... so long... I only wanted a few days-

For us...

For me... being with you-

I was so selfish...

I do not want to come between you and Christian. He is your twin brother...

I love you with every fibre of my being.

I do care deeply for Christian too..."

She exhaled, revealing her turmoil. Pulled her hand from his and pushed her face into her open hands. Rubbed it against them and let her face rest between them, before she brought her fingers over her lips, as if she wanted to push those words back into her mouth.

"We will... find a way. I will make sure of it. I won't lose you now, Freckles. What happened between you and Christian-

I am willing to draw a line and start anew."

Terry had taken his decisions and was letting her know.

"But... you and him have to spend time together, to know each other." Candy responded.

"This is something for me and Christian to figure it out. And our parents... so don't put more thoughts than what are necessary in your head, Candy."

"I am scared for him, Terry..."

His fingers stroked her cheek where her hands had been.

"I know..."

He got up and gave her his hand, prompting them to go back to bed.

"Let's arrive first in London, ok?"

He was right. Even if the worry and the fear over Christian's fate was very real, there was nothing they could do where they were. She gave him her hand and walked back to bed with her where he took her inside his arms. Always wanting to protect her against the dark shadows and the dangers that were lurking inside them.

Islington Infirmary, London

It was well past midnight when a black sports Bentley stopped in front of Islington Infirmary. The tall man who came out of the car, glanced around him in haste before he went up the stairs without losing any more time.

Given the late of the hour, the corridors inside the hospital were quiet. Which was just as well, given that the man's face was hardly visible under the hat and the dark cashmere scarf that was wrapped high up around his neck just so to obscure much of the man's features. The only giveaway in his presence were his clothes which one could tell, they were very expensive.

A nurse who happened to come out of a room, approached him.

"Can I help you, Sir?"

"Yes." He replied. "Were there two men brought here, earlier on..."

She squinted her eyes, processing the man's question.

"One of them was dead. And the other-"

"Ah, yes! Yes, I know the two men you speak of."

Another door opened and a doctor came in view at the corridor.

"Dr. Hart!" The nurse raised her voice, just enough to draw the doctor's attention. Then she turned back to the man who was enquiring about this night's hospital admissions.

"Dr. Hart was the attending physician." She said and explained to the doctor who now stood by their side.

"I will leave you to it." She said.

The man thanked her for her trouble before she left for her duties.

"The young man that was brought here who was barely alive..." He said without stopping to introduce himself.

"And you are?" Dr. Hart said.

"Can we please go to your office, Dr. Hart?" The man asked.

When the door closed behind them, inside the Doctor's office, the man removed the scarf and the hat. He was an old man in his late sixties but very well put together. In fact, even before he introduced himself, the doctor realised he must had been someone important from an aristocratic family.

"Dr. Hart, I am Richard Grandchester. I apologise for the haste of my visit, but please keep this confidential. It is of the outmost importance. The two men that were brought here, were involved in a burglary of my mansion in Highgate. I was told by my butler who brought the men here, with a couple of police officers-"

"Lord Grandchester! Yes, the police is still here... The men are outside the room of one of the young guys."

"So he is still alive..!"

"Just about... it is all to God's hands if he will pull through the night. His windpipe was nearly crashed by whoever tried to strangle him. His oxygen supply was cut for a considerable time."

"I see." Richard replied and pressed his lips on a face which told nothing else.

"Can I see him? Is it possible? I may be able to offer my help to the Detective Constable who led the operation to catch the thieves."

"Yes, of course. Follow me."

The two men walked out and back into the corridor, and headed towards the Intensive Care Unit. Richard saw the police officers standing outside a door. The doctor turned to them. The police officers recognised the aged aristocrat.

"Could I see him for a couple of minutes alone, please?"

The doctor deliberated for a brief moment. "Yes, you may. But you cannot stay for long. Two minutes maximum."

Richard thanked Dr. Hart. In fact he even looked slightly grateful. He entered the room.

The sight of Christian on the hospital bed, under the cold light of the room, shocked him. He looked more dead than alive, given the greyish pale colour of his skin. He was completely still. Richard put his hand over his son's chest. A heartbeat, slow and faint... as faint as a whisper, but it was there.

"I am so sorry, my son..." The Duke said.

He left the room. He asked to see the doctor back into his office.

"I won't stay long, Dr. Hart." He said to the doctor, when they were the two of them alone.

"It would have been great if this young man survived." The Duke commenced.

Before Dr. Hart responded to that, he continued. "Too bad both will be dead by the morning..."

"What are you saying, Sir?" The Doctor replied in utter surprise.

"I am saying that for the sake of this man, unless he dies beforehand, you will pronounce him dead one way or the other, before the sun rises today, Dr. Hart. And I will make sure that none will be the wiser, over the unfortunate demise of Christian Blake. Are we clear?"