Chapter 19: The General Comes to Town

Alex had spent the last week in lessons with Ian. Ian was surprised at how quickly his nephew caught on. He had specifically instructed Alex not to use Russian unless there was an emergency and to stay as far away from the adults as possible. Then there had been the political history and social context lessons, which he hadn't necessarily needed. Ian would be damned if it was either of them causing problems. Then he had gone into the military history of Russia and the roles everybody attending had played in it. They had gotten Alex a suit, of course. Alex had successfully argued his way into a full arsenal. Ian would be taking his as well. Alex seemed extra twitchy, not that Ian blamed him. He had also memorized the blueprints and security, though Ian had been surprised not to hear a single complaint from Alex. Actually, his teachers put up more of a stink. Ian assured them this was educational and had Alex write an essay to prove it. Alex had turned it in in four different languages and at university level, so nobody could complain. Ian had put him through his paces at both hand-to-hand and various weaponry in the training rooms. Alex had surprised him with tiny IED's that looked like pieces of gum, but would serve as remote controlled hand-grenades if need be. Ian decided it was better not to ask where he learned to make plastic explosives. He supposed he had covered it during lessons and Alex had figured out the ratios with experiments or online.

They had both gotten ready. Alex felt a faint stirring of adrenaline. He and Ian exchanged looks. "Ready?" Ian's smile was slightly predatory. "Armed and dangerous." Alex occasionally wondered how much he actually knew about Ian and they both glided into and out of the car. The ride seemed to pass so quickly. Alex felt the anticipation warm him. The evening was cool enough that he felt it in the suit jacket. He almost hoped something happened and the immediately quashed that thought. Alex would enjoy tearing someone a new one. The lessons had been tiring and exceedingly intense. They had also heightened his paranoia. Alex immediately spotted both the covert and overt security. A sneer threatened to cross his face. After keeping company with pretty much only Ian and Yassen and his pet wolf for the past few weeks, everyone else seemed slow and clumsy by comparison. He supposed they were decent enough. At least the Spetsnaz on the roof had the decency to camouflage themselves. Alex would have waved at them otherwise. Ian's lessons on how to observe people had paid off. Alex could see the tell-tale signs of agents in the crowds. Plenty of politicians and their children had shown up. Alex was just grateful for the crowd cover. With any luck, nothing would happen and he and Sarov wouldn't even cross paths. Trust the minister to make it seem like a big deal. Alex felt the faintest hint of disgust. A man was dead and people were throwing a party. Ian had arrived after the party started, but not late enough to be noticed.

Alex was tempted to drink, but he knew to never let his guard down. He might break into Ian's scotch after this. The other kids looked just as out of place as he did and the older ones had probably started drinking. Alex was glad nobody was talking to him because he was currently not in the mood. Oh, goody, one of the teenagers was puking. Alex decided to go outside before he gave into the impulse to punch something. He knew it wasn't Ian's fault, but right now he just wanted to be alone. Thankfully, the doors to garden were unlocked. Alex didn't bother asking permission. Most of the people were focused on pukey, anyway. He made sure to shut the doors behind him before commenting to himself. "This is absolutely disgusting. A man is dead, for fucks' sake!" Alex hadn't meant to say it that loudly, but he figured he was safe. "I couldn't agree more." Alex froze at the cultured Russian accent he knew all too well. He turned to meet the General for the first time, again. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." The man seemed calm at the moment, even kind. "I'm Alex Rider." He offered the man his hand. "General Alexei Sarov of Russia. It is nice to meet you." Alex felt his pulse begin to race, but kept his face blank as he shook hands with the man. Sarov was staring at him like he was a holy man being introduced to God. Alex felt the awkward silence stretch between them. Alex was suddenly aware of just how different the two of them were. They were worlds apart.

General Alexei Sarov had been disgusted with the entire charade. The party was in full swing and he had decided to go to the garden until the important portion of the meeting would be commenced. It was supposed to be a solemn occasion. His disgust had only rose as both the adults and children over indulged. The world had gone soft. This was one of many incidents that was convincing him that he needed to do something. Modern Russia was a disgrace. The parents that allowed their children to act out in public were as well. His Vladimir wouldn't have dreamed of doing so. The only reason he had been invited on this trip was because he was popular in his country and had a well-deserved reputation for being tough on the west. The people wanted answers for their beloved diplomat. His hatred of all things western had never risen to such a high point. A man was dead and they threw a party before he was even buried. Sarov knew it would never have happened in old Russia. There would have been a funeral, a demand to the West, and a prompt investigation followed by an assassination. Just as began to get in a poor mood, he heard a cultured English accent snarl the exact same sentiments. Well, well, his curiosity was piqued. When he stepped into the lamplight, the boy started. Alexei felt like he was being punched. He could swear it was Vladimir, back from the dead. He offered an apology. The General soaked in the image of the boy who was almost a mirror image of his dead son. No stuttering, confidence, control and if the build was anything to go by, athletic with daily workouts. His chest began to ache. The reminder… He was beautiful boy. Most likely his father's pride and joy.

The general felt the sudden need to talk. "Your father must be proud. Where is he?" Alex couldn't help the bitter smile. "Dead. My uncle looks after me. My parents died when I was one." The general had no idea what to say to that. "My condolences and apologies." Alex shrugged. "It's fine. I'm pretty used to the idea." The Russian undersecretary chose that exact moment to walk outside and pass out. Alex hoped he was drunk and not dead and judging from the smell, he was. Sarov's face twisted into an expression of utter disgust. "Jesus. Hope he wasn't important. Do we drag him somewhere or what?" Sarov was tempted to break the man's neck then and there. There was a reason he had no indulgences. Alex made the executive decision to put him behind the bushes. Nobody wanted the vultures seeing this. Alex easily lifted the man's upper half and took about two minutes to put him behind the bushes. Sarov raised an eyebrow. "I work out every day unless I get sick." Alex felt a little defensive. It helped that the man was short and not outrageously muscular or overweight. Sarov felt his impression of Alex go up. "Why would you care about a Russian undersecretary?" Alex resisted the urge to tell him he was a paranoid bastard. "One, I hate the modern press with a passion. Two, people passed out drunk attracts the vultures and nobody wants that. Three, this isn't a good look for either side at the moment, so vultures are bad right now. If he was the only guy, you would be on your own." Sarov was starting to like him. Not bad, for a westerner. He was what twelve? Perhaps younger? At least there was purposefulness here. He wondered…

They both looked inside at the (mostly) incredibly drunk people. Alex exchanged a look with the general. "So what's the idea, anyway? Everybody still sober goes in a small room and threatens each other and then both sides pretend that they aren't launching separate investigations while suspecting the crap out of each other?" Sarov felt his lips twitch. "Pretty much." Alex was astute at least. Perhaps worth watching even… It was not like he had much to do these days. The current administration didn't trust him (probably rightfully so) and hence let him out of most affairs of state. He still retained his wealth and most of his influence, however. Alex honestly had no idea what else to say to the man. In the past, he generally led and did most of the talking. Sarov looked just as lost. "I'm not really a conversationalist, sorry. We are kind of worlds apart." Sarov turned to him. "We do not have to be, you know. What do you do in your spare time?" Alex could almost see how the man could be influential and popular. When Sarov wasn't coming up with mad plans to blow up the world, he could actually be charming. "Sports, mostly. Skiing, biking, camping, that sort of thing." Alex wondered if the man was completely insane yet or if something else had pushed him over the edge. So far, Sarov seemed normal. "Do you ride?" Alex was now having flashbacks to the estate. "I can." Sarov felt the ache in his chest return. Vladimir, he wanted to say. It was as though he was being tortured by seeing his son again, but completely out of reach. The pain was almost a physical ache that became greater at every similarity.

Sarov was feeling almost wistful now. He remembered when his son was younger. This one was different, less innocent and more cynical. Perhaps just cynical enough to live. Alex moved to go back inside. Sarov looked like he was in pain. "Do you speak Russian?" Alex decided that if it made the general happy or at least look less like he was on the verge of a breakdown, he would converse in Russian until the day he died. At the moment, he genuinely felt sorry for the man. Damn, he was a sucker. "Yes, what would you like me to say?" Ian was going to kill him if ever found out. Sarov knew he was going sentimental in his old age. "Nothing in particular. Just knowing is enough." Alex decided to go inside before this got any creepier. Sarov let him go this time. "Goodbye, General." Sarov felt something tear inside of him. He couldn't possibly know that it was the last thing Vladimir had ever said to him. Their farewell had been in public and both were soldiers. He felt a bitter, spiteful envy towards the uncle. He hadn't even met the man and he already hated him. God, he had never wanted anything more in his life than Alex. Sarov knew it was completely irrational, but he wanted something for himself. Was a son really too much to ask? Alex had gone back inside. Sarov decided to rejoin him. It wouldn't do to leave him unsupervised. Where was his guardian anyway?

Alex moved through the much slower crowd towards Ian. It looked like all the people were either going home or congregating for the meeting. The other kids were passed out or just asleep. Oh, well, he didn't fit with them anyway. Alex decided to just sit away from all the windows with his back firmly against the wall. Ian spotted him and walked over. "Sorry to abandon you, I was preventing accidents from happening. Did you spot the Russian undersecretary by any chance?" Alex shrugged. "Out the doors, in the garden, behind the first six-foot shrub on the left, passed out drunk." Ian groaned. "Jesus Christ, that's the fourth one. I told Jones not to let them do free booze. Thank you for taking care of that, by the way. The only way this could get worse is if the press showed up." Alex sighed. "Couldn't you guys get it D-noticed?" Ian shrugged. "Won't do any good if they do a late-night special before it goes into effect. Damn bureaucrats." Alex rolled his eyes. "Yes, how dare they protect free speech, Ian." His uncle rolled his eyes. "Meet anyone at all?" Alex was torn between lying for convenience and not. "General Sarov. He found me when I was hiding the undersecretary." Ian bit back a swear. Could this night get any worse? "Were you polite, at least? That guy is probably the only Russian politician who doesn't drink, so he'll actually remember what happened." Alex snorted. "Yes, he was. Quite pleasant to talk to actually." Came the cultured Russian-accented English. Alex mentally groaned. He hoped the man didn't mention the Russian.

Ian felt himself instantly bristle, and it was not helped by the man's next comment. "Such a wonderful child. One could only wonder why he was unattended for so long." Ian bit back a growl. How dare he?! "One could wonder what you were doing away from the party for so long General. Plotting already?" Alex felt like Ian was taking this a little too personally. "Sorry to interrupt you two, but don't you have a meeting of some sort?" Sarov smirked. "Too right we do. Care to come along Alex?" Ian was fuming. "The meeting is classified, general." Sarov knew he had this one in the bag. "And I am within my full rights to demand he attend as a diplomatic courtesy. Wouldn't want to cause an incident, now would you?" Ian barely restrained himself from murdering the man on the spot. Alex barely repressed a groan. What was it with him and Russian psychopaths? He tried, really. Sarov went in first and smirked while explaining the situation to everyone. Alex had to admire the sheer political gall of the man. The General had basically compared them all to children and then had Alex as his "guest". Alex sent Ian his most innocent and apologetic look. Ian gave him a warm look before redirecting his Antarctica-melting glare at Sarov's back. Thankfully, most of the politicians figured Sarov had just grabbed the first conscious kid to use on his plans. A couple sent him sympathetic looks. Jones eyed him suspiciously. Alex gave her his most nonchalant shrug before the evidence began their presentation. Crawley looked like he was starting to wish Fenrir had eaten him after all and several of the politicians were rolling their eyes at the posturing on both sides.

The presentation was dull as shit and about as content-heavy. Most of it had been questions about the forensics and press involvement. Alex knew more than most of them about politics and forensics and was patently bored. He made a point of keeping notes and made a rough timeline. Alex didn't really care much overall, but at least it gave him something to focus on. He also made a rough list of suspects. When he ran out of ideas for that, he made estimates of the amount of blow-ups the already bogged down investigation would have. The meeting lasted almost until dawn. Alex was fighting to see straight. A few people had fallen asleep. Ian, Jones, both ministers, and the agents had all remained more or less alert. Alex tried to exit as inconspicuously as possible. Sarov stopped him on the way out. "I'll be in touch, Alex." Came the whispered phrase in Russian. Thankfully, Alex was the only one to hear it. He waited by the door for Ian. Ian was really starting to resemble an angry panther. Apparently, he was still pissed at the General. The man made sure he was out of earshot before he began muttering under his breathe about psychotic Russians and his nephew. Alex fell asleep in the car, but woke the minute they got home. The sun had just risen. Fenrir came up to greet him at the door. Alex barely had the energy to strip and shower before he collapsed onto the bed. Unfortunately for him, sleep was not what awaited him when he fell unconscious.

The third time Alex came face-to-face with Death, he was strikingly unafraid. "Good morning." Death smirked. "That diplomatic training really got into your skull, huh?" Alex rolled his eyes. "Did I fuck up or summon you?" Death snorted. "It usually is a little of both. You know, one would think a spy with nine missions would be less of a sucker." Alex wondered if Death was always this rude or if his sarcasm had rubbed off on...it? Alex realized he didn't really have a pronoun for Death. He decided not to ask. There were some questions even he drew the line at. "So great one, what did I do?" Death had begun to enjoy the sappy retorts. "Well, you got Russia involved." Alex groaned. "Don't remind me. Is he a crackpot or not?" Death rolled his eyes. "Mortals. Okay, sparky. Psych 101. It takes a while for people to go batshit like our dear Russian General. Besides, how are we defining sane, in this case? Sanity is generally relative, all things considered. I digress, slim. The better question at this juncture is what exactly he wants. Right now, there are no nukes involved, sadly. More interesting is the fact that you still look creepily like dead son. Most likely, the dear Russian General is lonely and paranoid in his old age and still wants to adopt you. I would be more concerned about your loving family at this point. Your uncle is giving off a homicidal vibe, you know. Tisk, tisk."

Alex rolled his eyes. Ian really was overprotective sometimes. Frankly, Alex figured Ian would get over a few snide comments in the next day or two. At least he would have the weekend to recover from that nightmare. Ian would probably have to report in as it was. You would think the man would know better than to rise to bait like that. Actually, the General was a bit of a puzzle as well. Alex knew it was probably none of his business, but if the guy really wanted a son that bad why not adopt or get remarried? He wasn't that old. Death seemed to be waiting for him. "Why didn't he just adopt or something?" Death just rolled his eyes. "It didn't even cross his mind. He was rather one-track as it was, in case you hadn't noticed." Alex pinched the bridge of his nose out of habit. "Anything else I should know?" Death gave him an eerie, scanning look. "You may want to hold off on the thing with your friends until the investigation blows over. Houses burning down mysteriously will attract a lot of attention at the moment. I'm assuming the last thing you want is both the FSB and MI6 on your tail." Alex realized that this was the first time Death had given him a straight answer. "Okay. Why can't you conveniently give everyone heart-attacks or something?" Death made a move towards Alex. "Like I said, short stack, free will. Life is your playground. Death is mine." Alex found himself staring into the man's eyes. He froze. The eyes were nothing like anything he'd seen before. They were black, or really dark. Looking closely, it was as though they contained black flame. He found himself holding his breath. "What happens when you die, normally?" For a second, Alex felt like he'd gone too far. Grey fingers came to tap his cheek. "It depends, Alex, just like everything else." Alex was very conscious of the fact he looked sixteen in this dream. The eyes flared back down. Alex released a breath that he'd been holding. "Why? Why any of this?" The figure in black smirked. "You'll figure out one day." And with that, Alex was falling, falling, and sat up with a shocked inhale.

Alex sighed a Fenrir sniffed him and nuzzled his leg reassuringly. At least he wasn't tired from yesterday. He looked at the clock. It was almost noon. He groaned. At least he'd finished his school work in advance. Ian had written his teachers and somehow convinced them to send the work home. The news was quietly flicked on while Alex cooked himself lunch- he didn't want to bug Jack. Alex smirked when the anchor got into the story on the cyber-attack on his school. Apparently, they were trying to see if anyone was going to take credit for it. No leads, of course. Alex felt the laughter bubble up again. Ian walked in looking especially worn just as he burst out laughing again. His classmates' reactions had been hilarious. Ian groaned and flopped himself on the couch. Alex sobered up immediately. "What now?" Ian gave him the evil eye. "Paperwork nightmare. You and Sarov talking. Dead diplomats. You." Alex gave Ian his most innocent look. "Not my fault people can't keep their knives and their puke to themselves." Ian's lips twitched. "You know what I mean Alex. Any chance I can convince you to do my paperwork?" Alex shot him an incredulous look. "Won't someone notice?" Ian snorted. "You'd be surprised. Not at this volume. Besides, I know for a fact Crawley did one of his in crayon once." Alex started laughing. "Really?" Ian rolled his eyes. "Yes, really. It was a bad week. Now pretty, please?" Ian was giving Alex a look entirely too reminiscent of Fenrir. "Fine. Just this once. If I make up half of it and you get caught, it is so your fault." Ian gave him a smile that would have made a woman melt. "Thank you, Alex."

Five hours and many swears later the stack on Ian's desk looked somewhat more manageable. Alex had decided to make a standardized version of the parts of the reports and auto-filled the information. It had gone much quicker and much less tedious after that. Alex had come up with reasonably vague and concise summaries and had started injecting sarcasm and snarky retorts to some of the questions. Time to walk Fenrir. The wolf gave out a happy little yip when Alex called him to the door with a leash. Jack was rolling her eyes as Alex was attaching the leash. "You do know with the mutant that thing is largely ceremonial, right?" Alex grinned. "That's not what the London leash laws say, Jack. I didn't make them." Jack snorts. "Stay out of trouble, Alex." Alex decided that the rain was a perfect excuse to walk a little slower and check for tails. He needn't have bothered. Walking down the streets was Mrs. Jones, under an umbrella. "Mrs. Jones. As I recall, the house is the other way." She sighed. "I want to talk to you, Alex." Alex held Fenrir as a steady walk. They would both be running after this. "Yes, Mrs. Jones?" She gave him a wan look. "General Alexei Sarov-" Alex cut her off. "Is very dangerous. Ian told me." She sighed. "How is it going by the way?" Jones rolled her eyes at his impatience. Some things were apparently inherited. "Well enough, I suppose. These things take time, after all." Alex shrugged. "I wouldn't know. What happens if you don't solve it?" Jones raised an eyebrow. "With this, there is no not solving it. These can take years, you know." Alex wondered how inefficient they could possibly be. Then again, this was his first cold case. All of the others he had been on were warm, in fact most of the bodies had been-. "And why, pray tell, are you talking to me about all of this?" Jones shrugged. "I really don't know. You seem to have a way of knowing things you shouldn't, though." Alex held back a fake cough. She was about as subtle as a rhinoceros. "Sorry, I really did just accidently find the body this time." Jones sighed. "Would you even consider-" Alex cut her off. "No." Jones examined him closer. "You didn't even let me finish." Alex prepared to quicken his pace. "I don't need to, Jones, Ian is at the house and the one who works for you, in case you forgot. Goodnight." With that he took off into the crosswalk, and left her on the other side. The cars began to move just after he finished crossing.

Alex ran until he couldn't force his legs to run anymore and then set his pace at a brisk walk. Fenrir had about as much energy as he did at the moment, which was fortunate. He decided to cut through the now swamp-like park to discourage anyone from following him. The rain had finally quit, but that didn't make Alex feel any less paranoid. He was sure Jones would ask him something innocuous at this age, but he didn't want to get used to working with or for her in any shape or form. The hope was that she would take a hint. He refused to go anywhere near the Bank at the moment and took the long way home. By the time he was back, he was soaked in a mixture of sweat, mud, and rain. Alex was aware he probably looked and smelled like shit. He tried very hard not to get the mud all over the floor and went straight up for a shower. Afterwards, he had an assassin to text. Thankfully, he was sure that Yassen was busy with other things. Ian had still been out cold when he got back. Jack was rustling around in her room. Alex was once again struck by how noisy normal people were. In this case, he found it more reassuring than irritating. He decided he was going to try to save Jack the trouble of making dinner. The report to Yassen was sent. Time to look for food in the fridge. Jack kept it stocked, so there wouldn't be an issue. Alex decided it was a good night for spaghetti and meat sauce. It would take less than an hour to make.

Ian Rider woke to the sound of his nephew making dinner. He repressed a stab of guilt for not being awake or helping. Last night had been exhausting. He knew it wasn't Starbright, since the clanging had lasted more than ten minutes. Sarov was going to be an issue. He didn't like the way the man looked at Alex. It was decidedly creepy, not to mention inviting him to that political shit-fit. The General was well-known for his contempt towards anything western, so why on earth would he care or talk to Alex? Ian went to his computer to check the footage. Both sides had essentially demanded a copy from every single camera and for it to be destroyed otherwise. Ian took a look at the tape. Alex looked really irritated. Unfortunately, the audio wasn't worth shit and the images were too far away to see what the two had talked about. Ian had 'borrowed' Alex's notes after the meeting that he technically should never have been at. Unfortunately, Sarov could and would cause an incident. He was certainly politically gifted and ruthless enough. Jones had written him an irritated email about Alex not being cooperative. Funny, he didn't remember her asking before she talked to him. Then again, she could have plausibly forgotten amid the circus- sorry, investigation- that she was supposed to. The furry mutant was sitting by the kitchen and looked like it had just taken a bath. Ian made sure to keep a good ten feet away from it and sat on the couch. It was fucking huge and had the creepiest yellow eyes he had ever seen. Maybe he was prejudiced, having experience with wild wolves and all, but Ian privately wished he had been there to notice sooner. Did he mention the wolf was giant? And weirdly smart? He could swear it shot him a smug look every time he walked by Alex petting it. Ian didn't know how Alex managed to sleep well with that thing in the house, let alone his bed. He personally triple-checked his lock every night. Starbright had been entirely too amused by the whole thing. Why couldn't it have been a pit bull?

Yassen Gregorovich was not pleased when he checked the news. He was not particularly fond of the Russian State Security Forces as it was. At least Alex had listened to him. He blamed Ian Rider entirely for Alex's current predicament with a certain general. Weren't spies supposed to come up with plausible excuses for why family members couldn't attend events? The General's interest was particularly concerning. He was a fanatical supporter of old Russia, why on earth would he care about a child from the west? Then again, Yassen considered the man at least partially insane, so he decided he was better off not understanding at all. At least the assignment was going fairly well. It had been mismanaged by the person who had run it before they were sent in. Nile had seemed idly curious about why he used this particular phone every day, but was intelligent enough not to ask. They worked reasonably well together. Assassins tended to be fairly solitary, anyhow. Yassen was rather infamous for not having the patience for any kind of student in the long-term. He had certainly been hooked into enough demonstrations of his shooting skills, but that was about it. The head of the school and Three were not very subtle about hinting he could have his pick of any class. He sighed and read Alex's report, noting that it was correct and concise down to the very last picture. It was just as detailed as some of the information he used in SCORPIA assignments (the ones that came with files, anyhow). Nile was watching him with a single eyebrow raised. "Something to add, Nile?" He made sure his tone was just a hint menacing. "Nope. I like breathing." Yassen felt vaguely amused. "I would hope so, considering our line of work is risky enough without suicidal morons in the mix." Nile chuckled and then looked completely weirded out.

"So you are actually human after all. I was starting to wonder if you had a soul." Yassen smirked. "If I did, it died and was buried a while ago. Just like you will be, if you breathe a word to anyone." Nile sighed and rolled his eyes. "You can lighten up, you know. People will still take you seriously." He was definitely going soft in his old age, especially since Nile got away with only a withering glare. Thankfully, the man was tactful enough to go on runs whenever Yassen started getting irritable at the company in general. He flexed his hand before he began to write a reply to Alex. This would be a long one. He began to type.

The house is clearly and older model, so the fire safety devices…

Nile had decided to go for a run when Gregorovich turned his evil eye on him. He wasn't the superstitious type, but since the man could actually kill you faster than you blinked… For a second, he had thought the older man was finally learning some social skills that weren't death threats, but apparently not. He was definitely different than most people Nile had to work with. The man was about five different kinds of scary, but he didn't revel in it like everyone else did. Sure he could be petty and extremely homicidal, but killing people was their job… Nile supposed it was more than the man seemed to have unending, iron self-control. Gregorovich never killed before the say-so was given. Also, very, very efficient. It was almost creepy in of itself. It made Nile glad that they were working together. He would take extremely competent over incompetent any day. Not a talker, that one. Pity, because he was sure Yassen had all kinds of stories. Oh, well. Rothman and Three both wanted daily check-ins, which Nile usually handled. Yassen had little patience for anything of that sort and Nile didn't want to have to sleep within ten feet of a grouchy Yassen Gregorovich. While he knew the man probably wouldn't kill him in his sleep out of sheer irritation for something that wasn't his fault, best not to chance it. The guy was really weird about that phone, though. It was almost like he had someone, but everyone knew that Yassen Gregorovich was completely unattached to any human. Nile supposed the mystery would just be added to the many that surrounded the man.