Thanks!

To everyone who so generously read, reviewed and commented, a BIG BIG thank you! I really appreciated every single one... and I would have to be greedy in asking for your continued support. So please do continue to be generous in your enjoyment and comments!

Hmmm... why doesn't anyone like grandpa Reg? He's just an old man!!!

Please also note that I have finally given that 'Intellectual' a name... Ieuan Yates, son of that mysterious old lady Yates. I will update all the previous chapters with his presence later. It bothered me not having names to faces...

Finally, this took a while because I was distracted by another story I was writing for another friend. My apologies.

I Remembered a Storm-tossed Night

Chapter 10

The wind was blowing away the rain clouds. Soon the skies are blue again. The air was crisp and cool and clean. How utterly refreshing! –Jolly

HBHBHB

29

Thierry Durand was sipping his Evian mineral water and reading his papers when his cell phone rang. He recognized the voice on the other end instantly.

"It's done, sir. Everything will be as you planned."

"Your contribution is noted, Durand. And Hardy? He is in Paris, isn't he?"

"Oui. I just met up with him."

"What did he want?"

"He met up with me to convey his suspicions regarding potential foul play in the Tour de France… He followed Deemer here. He managed to link Deemer to the suspicious death of his sister-in-law."

"Do whatever is necessary to make sure Hardy progress no further."

30

Phil Cohen was making his way back to his office after an unexpected emergency board meeting. He had left his office in a hurry and had forgotten to securely put away the bit of investigative work he was doing for the Hardys. No one should be looking through his notes anyway. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry in such matters.

He opened his office door and he stopped breathing for an instant.

Oh no…

His girlfriend, Vanessa Bender, was sitting at his table staring at his computer screen. He could see the streaks of tears on her cheeks.

"Why didn't you tell me?!" Vanessa demanded.

"Van…" Phil started, and then realized he really had no idea what to say to her.

Phil closed the door behind him and leaned against it. He knew this would come up eventually, but he did not expect her to stumble onto it like that. No, not like that at all. He should have remembered to securely put away those notes.

"He's married…"

His heart went out to her at the disbelief in her voice.

They had been going out for almost four years now. In fact, he was thinking of proposing to her on her coming birthday. He shook his head and laughed at the idiosyncrasies of fate. He had always known that Vanessa loved Joe. It had taken her two years after Joe's 'death' before she even started dating. He knew even then that she had not really gotten over Joe. And he had thought himself exceedingly fortunate that he managed to win her over back then.

And now Joe's still alive. But he was also married.

"Yes, he's married…" Phil confirmed what Vanessa already read off the internet.

"He doesn't remember me…" Vanessa asked in a soft voice as she stared at his handwritten notes.

"No..."

"Maybe Frank's wrong… maybe that's really Paul…" Vanessa babbled, her tone pleading.

"No Van… Frank and his father already have the DNA proof, Paul really is Joe…"

That was when Vanessa broke down and cried. She cried for what might have been. She cried for what could never be.

And Phil held her as she cried.

31

It was a Monday morning and the start of his second week at work at Schwarz Shipping. He had spent the weekend reading up on the shipping trade and there was so much to take in, he was currently suffering from information overload.

He helped himself to a fresh cup of coffee from the infamous well-stocked Schwarz pantry before making his way into his office. Frank could not help but snicker as he recalled the article he read in the New York Times on how Schwarz spoilt his employees with pure Arabica coffee, Belgian chocolates, daily supplies of fresh French pastries or Japanese sushi, and Haagen-Daaz ice cream. He can now confirm that article was true to every word. The journalist had not exaggerated.

He opened the door and stared at the state of his office in total disbelief.

It was a mess.

But it was a very Joe-mess; Frank could not help that tiny bit of happiness in that little corner of his heart.

He shook his head in resignation, and in contentment. His baby brother was his baby brother regardless of name and memories. And as far as he could remember, his baby brother always got the best of him. Almost always, Frank amended as he smiled in fond remembrance of those days.

What happened here exactly?

Well, 'Paul' clearly saw it fit to move into his PA's office and made himself at home. His excuse? He needed space to work, and he needed a neat and official looking office to meet up with clients and employees.

And 'Paul' had the temerity to thank Frank for his sacrifice and for being so understanding. The whole thing was over and settled before Frank could even get in a word or do anything about it. It was galling, how his baby brother could still get under his skin just like that.

'That's because you let him, Frank.' His little voice told him.

He made his way to his table, the only tidy part of the room, stared at what was left so carelessly before him, and before he knew it, he was laughing out loud.

On his table was the printout of an article from The Economist called 'In Praise of Clutter'.

Ah Joe…

There was a knock on the door and Frank found himself looking into a pair of brown eyes so like his own.

"Good morning, Frank! How's your weekend?"

That was Ehlana. Joe's wife. No Paul. No Joe…

He sighed inwardly. Paul's wife, he told himself firmly. Paul, until he and dad could get the entire mess figured out and cleared up… or until Joe remembers.

"I had a lovely weekend, thanks for asking…"

Ehlana walked into the room and eyed the mess before her right next to him. She shook her head, but Frank could see that little smile dancing on her lips and the twinkle in her eyes.

"Thanks for taking him in, Frank. I refuse to share my office with him for obvious reasons…"

Frank could see the genuine sympathy in her eyes. The two of them shared a moment of commiseration.

"I can try to talk to Paul about this," Ehlana offered.

Clearly she did not believe her 'talk' will be effective, Frank thought dryly.

"Its okay, Ehlana; as long as he leaves my table alone… I had a brother who's equally messy…"

Frank acknowledged he made a mistake there and then. He vowed to be more vigilant and careful from now on. His father had been right on about it being difficult taking a case that was too close to the heart.

"Had?"

Frank did not bother to answer, but Ehlana must have noted the hurt in his eyes, for she did not push him for an answer. For which Frank was grateful.

He liked her a lot, and had no doubt mom and dad would too.

32

Later that night, Ehlana sat absentmindedly brushing her hair at her vanity table. She watched her husband via the reflection in the mirror before her. He was lying on his stomach on their king-sized bed intently studying the pile of papers scattered around him. Every once in a while, he would scribble some notes on the side.

"Still studying Frank's profile?"

"Yes."

"You like him a lot." She made her observation.

Paul paused for a moment before gathering up the papers and returning them into the folder.

"Yes, I do like him a lot."

"But?"

"It won't be easy persuading him over to our side…"

"I'm sure you'll find a way, love… and you already had him a little rattled today." Ehlana smiled as she recalled the split second reaction on Frank's face when he realized the mistake he made and Paul's look of satisfaction when she described in detail what happened.

"I do have the advantage at the moment, Ehla…"

"But not for long, Paul. Not from what I read from the very detailed dossier you got there…and I do not think Frank is the type who will make the same mistake twice." Ehlana commented.

"I totally agree, Ehla…"

"But I think you already found a weak spot, Paul." She turned around and faced her husband. "And your next move? Will you let it be known that you know he's your cousin?"

"Soon, Ehla, soon… first we get closer to him. And I will look for the opportunity to use that bit of information to our best advantage."

"So you are planning to…"

"Yes Ehla, I plan to replace the brother he lost…"

33

Detective James Conner had to worked at containing his excitement as he waited for his currently-on-long-vacation-partner, Maggie Lam, to pick up her phone. He just got his hands on the test results today and they now had confirmation that Mr. Black in Bangkok was really Mr. Nigel Schwarz.

He admitted that he had been skeptical when Maggie first told him about it. It was Fenton Hardy's sheer reputation that had made him ask Maggie to try to obtain a DNA sample for testing. And she did, by asking Mr. Black out for coffee and then snitching his coffee mug.

Conner knew that making it as a famous detective was not just about skills. It was also about luck. There were thousands of equally talented investigators in the world, yet only a handful made it to the 'famous' list. Fenton Hardy was one of those with the luck, or bad luck, to be at the right place in the right time.

Fenton was there. He solved the case. He made his name. That was how things are in the real world.

Now, he was on it too. He had no doubt this was going to be big, and he intended to be part of it. He frowned. He wondered where that detective was at the moment. He had sent several emails and there had been no response…

"Hello, Maggie here."

"Maggie!"

"Yes James?"

"The test results confirm that Black is indeed Schwarz…"

James could almost see Maggie perking up in her seat, if she was sitting that is.

"I knew it!"

James smiled at that. He knew Maggie was just as excited and as curious as to what was going on regarding that boating accident case. Then his expression turned serious. It's time to get back to work.

"Maggie, I need you to get close to Black. Find out all you can about him; when he arrived in Bangkok, what are his plans… the usual..."

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