Chapter 3- Hit and run?
Boris Kuerster Von Jurgens-Ratenicz, looked down sharply as his right hand fisted uncontrollably. Furtively, he dragged the improperly functioning limb to his side to hide it from view. Not that there was anyone to notice because being with Dieter, his faithful manservant and Isaac, his equally loyal driver was as close to alone as a man could get.
As the muscle spasm eased, he found himself smiling half wistfully as the Hampton's scenic view rolled outside the window of his heavily armoured SUV. The middle-aged billionaire had noticed the symptoms of his condition were becoming more and more infrequent in the last couple of weeks. In addition, any episodes he did experience were more manageable ever since a certain short, energetic, curly haired young person had declared emphatically that he wanted to help.
The mind was certainly a strange thing.
He shook his head and closed his eyes in disbelief. He really was crazy for getting his hopes up. The most qualified doctors in the world had tried to treat his condition and failed; how was one ER doctor going to achieve all that they couldn't?
He flicked on his laptop and started to peruse the documents within that dealt with the man in question: Dr. Henry (Hank) Lawson. The man had done good work at his previous place of employment, but it was his labours here at the Hampton's that had truly been outstanding. Hank had treated his patients with courage, ingenuity, and a degree of compassion that was giving Hank MED-much to the dismay of the reclusive German-a glowing reputation that was spreading through the million dollar mansions like wildfire.
Boris had wanted to learn more about the personality of the young person guesting in his cottage. With Dieter's help he had researched the Bryant's, Newberg's and other high profile medical incidences closely and had then sought out his newest houseguest to ask a few questions on what he had learnt. Needless to say, he was astounded at the gentle rebuff directed his way by the doctor.
'Patient confidentially,' the young man had responded stonily while his idiot brother prattled on annoyingly in the background.
Boris had seen much in the world, and very few things still had the power to surprise him.
Over and over he tried to get the doctor to break, but Hank deflected all his attempts with a gentle smile.
Deep down inside, Boris suspected that Hank had already seen through his issues of trust and, with the ease of long experience in getting recalcitrant patients to co-operate, the doctor had waited him out with patience and good humour.
There were only two times that Hank had been so angry with him that the he had almost walked away.
First, when Hank had learnt he was experimenting with the drugs harvested from the sharks. That was understandable with him being a doctor and all, but the other occurrence….
Boris snorted scornfully as he closed his laptop with a sharp motion.
While the billionaire commended Hank's devotion to family, the boy...Evan R, was an albatross around the young doctor's neck. In his astute mind he had already determined that it would be best to get rid off him somehow so that Hank could focus more fully on solving HIS medical predicament.
In the meantime, Boris' eyes were drawn magnetically to the crashed vehicle on the side of the road.
'Why are we stopping?' he reprimanded the driver. 'Call the police and drive on. I do not want to be involved.'
There was a faint clicking as the intercom came to life.
'With all due respect, perhaps we should,' Isaac insisted calmly, secure in the knowledge that his employer was not one of those hot tempered socialites who would demand his head be removed for insubordination.
'And why is that?' Boris inquired just as calmly as the SUV began to reverse on the shoulder toward the crash site.
'Because it is one of ours, sir,' the chauffeur informed him.
The billionaire watched disconcertingly as his driver approached to examine the accident, cell phone pressed against one ear. His security entourage quickly followed, loaded down with medical supplies and blankets for the injured. In the background, Dieter's soft voice could be heard as he collected whatever information existed on why one of his prized Mercedes was lying in a ditch with its wheels waving helplessly in the air.
'Sir?' his manservant interjected deferentially, and Boris waved his hand in a 'please speak' motion.
'Miguel, from the mansion, has confirmed that young Mr. Lawson had borrowed the car at approximately five minutes past five this evening,' he reported, bracing himself for the emotional outburst. It had not escaped his attention that his boss had grown quite attached to the man's elder brother, Hank. 'And no, we cannot confirm at this time if Dr. Henry Lawson was with him.'
As he expected, Boris was out of the vehicle before he had even finished the sentence.
The man could feel his heart beat start to race and his mouth turn to sawdust as he ran to the overturned vehicle.
'No one's inside,' one of his security flunkies addressed him while another grabbed his shoulder and tried to tow him back towards the safety of the SUV.
With an imperious shrug, he waved the restraining arm away.
'Is that blood, on the driver's seat, Vaughn?' he asked in growing fear for what had happened.
'Yes sir,' the man confirmed, 'but if they are not here, most likely they were rescued by a passer-by or perhaps the ambulance was here already.'
'Not likely,' the billionaire remarked. 'The authorities would have contacted me already.'
The German financier's eyes roamed over the unusually large dent in the car's side, the paint transference from the other vehicle and the tell-tale skid marks on the road.
'Looks like a hit and run, sir,' Dieter mumbled supportively at his elbow, observing his employer's preoccupation.
Boris folded his arms and stared unseeingly in front of him for a long moment.
'Perhaps,' he finally conceded, now aware that his men were awaiting his orders. 'Isaac organize to have the car towed to the mansion. Dieter, contact Ms. Jill Casey at the hospital. Tell her I need to speak to her urgently but privately. The rest of you… clean up this mess!'
Dieter watched as his boss snapped out his cell phone and hit the speed dial.