VI. 1983

Rhode Island Military Academy

Anthony DiNozzo set down his tumbler of aged scotch and worked at bringing his son's face into focus. Then picked his drink back up again when he saw his dead wife's eyes looking back at him, slurring "You're a DiNozzo goddammit, not a Paddington. Lord Clive can get his own damn disappointment of a son. You're not going to go over there and get turned into some fancy prancing Lordling. You killed your mother, you don't get rewarded for that. Damn English ponce thinks he can tell me how to raise my son. Says he'll send money to support you but not me. Bastard. Although I suppose he's right that I should do something so you'll stop being such vampire bait. Lord knows the way you seem to attract them you'll end up drained in the gutter somewhere if I don't. There's got to be somewhere around here that can keep you in - and everything else out - if I pay them enough."