Give My Love to Rose
Chapter 14

Copyright© 2009 by Scotland-the-Brave

"Considine is in it with them; I could see it in his eyes. I've been in business too long, sat through too many negotiations and billion dollar deals to not know when someone is lying to me," said Henry.

The flat screen mounted on the wall of his basement communications centre was split to show four other men. Together, these five men made up the ruling council of the Knights Templar and it was unusual for them to be together like this. That this was the second videoconference between them in three days was unprecedented.

"How can you be so sure, Henry?" asked Victor Lopez, President of Brazil.

"I just know Victor. You'll have to trust me."

"I'm getting really uncomfortable. I think we should set the FAT boys loose and remove Osvaldo and Macheda once and for all. If what you've told us is true, things are starting to spiral out of control and we need to take firmer action. We're all at risk here," said Bill Haining, one of Australia's richest men.

The FAT boys he referred to were actually the Fast Action Team, a squad of hand-picked men and women that the US Army called on for the toughest jobs around. Henry refused to acknowledge their existence and always argued against their use. As far as he was concerned, as he had explained to Gavin, the Order was non-violent. It was clear that not all of the council agreed with him and now he found himself coming under pressure to take action. This was a growing trend.

"Bill, this is an extraordinary situation. We do such a thorough job of vetting people before we think about asking them to join the Order, that we have very few problems. Every time we have a problem, you cry 'foul' and advocate using the FAT. That's just plain wrong. The Jerez-Gonzalez family are originals — Cajuns in the truest sense of the word. Their membership of the Order goes back hundreds of years," explained Henry.

"I still don't like it. I agree with Bill, we should take them out," Heinz Fogel, a German industrialist chipped in. "I mean, what are you going to do with them both once they've been picked up?"

"I'm with the other guys. Set my FAT boys on them and clear this up before it gets any worse," said US General Gryffe Wilder. "I don't care how long they've been members — they're causing too much trouble and deserve to be dealt with. I'd remind you that the Knights Templar is a military order, dating back to the crusades. Osvaldo and Macheda are both guilty of gross dereliction of duty and now desertion — the penalty should be clear to all of you."

"I've got more than enough evidence now to put both of them behind bars for a long time," Henry explained. "Murder, kidnapping — you name it, I've got evidence of it."

"And what happens when they start singing to the police?" asked Victor. "Even the Order wouldn't be able to contain that. No, they have to go. I agree with the others."

Henry could see that he was outvoted and it would be pointless trying to argue further. He decided to speak to the council members individually to try to win them over — violence was out of the question.

A gentle tap on the door of the communications room heralded the arrival of Henderson. Henry could see from his expression that something was badly wrong; it was also highly unusual for Henderson to interrupt a meeting of the ruling council. The butler scurried into the room and bent to whisper in Henry's ear.

Even with the limitations of the images provided by the videoconferencing equipment, the other four members of the council could see the ashen look that appeared on Henry's face. He took a few moments to compose himself as Henderson retreated and closed the door behind himself.

"Gentlemen, I'm sorry, but I've just had some very bad news. I may be jumping to conclusions, but I think Osvaldo has just kidnapped my grandson and in the process killed six people."

"My god! Now will you believe us? There can be no further argument — unleash the FAT boys immediately. If we don't deal with this quickly, it's all going to hit the fan. When that happens, the Order is going to come under intense public scrutiny and we're going to be in big trouble. Our hands will be tied and people will question every business deal we're involved in. They'll see conspiracies at every turn! For once listen to reason, Henry. We have to make a stand!" thundered Bill Haining.

"Okay, okay. I'll deal with it," said Henry, suddenly sounding very tired. Having lost his son — and having to live with the guilt of doing nothing to stop Johnny's murder — he felt weak at the prospect of losing a grandson that he had never seen.

"Our biggest problem is that, currently, we don't know where they are. Gryffe, can you put your FAT on standby for immediate operations?" asked Henry, at last bowing to the inevitable. He was a master strategist, his record in the business world showed that. Now Henry was forced to accept reality, but he was already thinking of alternative solutions — he didn't like the thought of getting the Order too closely aligned with forces of any one country.

Henry tried to convince himself that his decision to back down had not been influenced by the fate of his son and grandson.


Henry Sinclair's mood hadn't improved by morning and the lack of sleep hadn't helped. After an inconclusive end to the council meeting, Henry had spent another couple of hours trying to get information out of Considine. That had proved pointless, but he was still convinced that the man was somehow linked to Osvaldo's disappearance.

Now he was waiting for Richard Malmesbury to arrive, but if truth be told, his focus was no longer on what his friend might have to tell him about Gavin MacSween, rather it was on Donald.

Henderson had used the communications room to spread the word about the attack on the Davidsons and the kidnapping of Donald. The Order's networks were even now trying to find some clue as to where the boy had been taken and Gryffe had confirmed that the FAT was on high alert at their Eglin base. The fact that Donald was Henry's grandson hadn't been shared, but it was made clear that getting the boy back safely was top priority. So far no-one had found any leads and Henry was worried.

"Lord Malmesbury, Sir," said Henderson, showing the tall aristocrat into the library.

"My god, Henry! You look positively awful, are you ill?" asked Richard, with all the sensitivity of a charging rhino.

"I'm sorry, Richard. I've had a bad night I'm afraid," Henry replied, trying to shrug of the tiredness and feeling of despair.

"Well what I've found for you is bound to waken you up, man. I guarantee it!" Malmesbury laughed.

"Please forgive me, I'm being rude," Henry stood and clasped his friends hand in the ancient grip of the Order. "I took mercy on you and didn't ask cook to prepare a full breakfast, but you'll want tea or coffee?" he asked.

"Coffee sounds wonderful, old chap."

Henderson once again showed that he was somehow able to hear what was said in the room, because minutes later he entered with a pot of coffee, cups and cream on a tray.

"Thank you, Henderson," said Henry, pouring two cups and adding the cream.

Lord Malmesbury took a seat opposite the one Henry was sitting in and savoured the taste of the fresh coffee.

"Aaahhhh! Much better than that horrible stuff they give you on the flight," he exclaimed in pleasure.

"Quite. It tastes vile — even in first class," Henry agreed.

As protocol demanded, the two friends spent some time catching up on events since they had last met before Richard got down to business.

"Right, old chap; just remind me of how much you know about this MacSween fellow?"

"Not much — orphaned when his mother was raped and murdered. Adopted. Good athlete, student majoring in business, made quite a bit of money speculating on some property I believe," said Henry.

"Uh huh. Yes, all true," agreed Richard. "Now. Why are you interested in him?"

Henry sighed and then started to re-tell the story of his son and Rose Latour, leaving nothing out. He explained how Osvaldo had duped him and how he had sat back and let his own son be murdered.

"Crikey, that must be hard to shoulder, old boy," said Richard.

Henry merely nodded and continued his story. He explained how Gavin had come into the picture and shown him Johnny and Rose's marriage license and the birth certificate for his grandson. Malmesbury's eyes gleamed when Henry described how Gavin had managed to evade Osvaldo and Macheda's security, entering both houses without being detected. Henry ended his story by describing how Osvaldo and Macheda were apparently now on the run and that he believed they had kidnapped young Donald.

"Good god, man! Your story is almost as far-fetched as mine, but what you've told me about this MacSween fellow just confirms my theory I think," said Richard.

"That's all I've got to tell. I've got people looking for Osvaldo, but my interest in Mr MacSween was largely curiosity. When I met him he had such an air of assurance about him, you know, like special ops people have? And then he seems to have killed the cop to rescue his sister without batting an eyelid," said Henry.

"Let me tell you what I've found," said Malmesbury. "I've been poring over reports from quite a few different agencies — I did all the work myself so there's no risk of any of this getting out.

"Let me take you back to Mr MacSween's childhood. I've seen the assessment of the boy by social services and the police reports of the murder of his mother. What you probably don't know is that the boy actually witnessed his mother's rape and death — must have been awful for the young boy, eh? Would probably have made quite an impact.

"Gavin was adopted by a family by the name of Anderson — nothing special about them. Typical hard-working middle-class types.

"Now let me fast-forward a few years," said Richard.

He hefted his briefcase up onto his lap, spun the combination lock and sprung the catches. Reaching inside, he started to set documents in front of Henry one by one. He started with a newspaper report of the attack on the Portcullis pub on Glasgow's Southside. There followed police records of the investigations into other killings and then reports on the recovery of several sizable quantities of drugs.

Henry skim-read each document and occasionally glanced at his friend as if to ask when he was going to get to the point. Richard smiled encouragement at him to continue. Several more newspaper reports were next, covering the rescue of Lizzie Houston and the killing of the serial rapist. Henry noted the fact that at this point many of the incidents had been linked and the perpetrator had been nick-named the 'Romantic Vigilante'.

Next on the table was a file from the London Metropolitan Police which recorded the death of a city trader who had been exposed as a rapist and fraudster. The records included a log of a telephone call between London and Glasgow police which pointed the finger of suspicion at the vigilante.

Records from Company House, the place where all UK businesses need to register themselves, showed the short-lived history of the company that Gavin had set up. Henry was more interested in quickly going through the accounts of the company than he had been in any of the other documents.

"Impressive numbers for a first year, but something doesn't quite add up," he said, going over the figures again.

Lord Malmesbury pulled out two further files from his briefcase. One covered the unsolved murder of Glen Anderson and the other the deaths of two of Glasgow's crime gang bosses along with an underling.

"You'll notice that the 'nobody' is called Fraser Gilchrist. Here's a picture of Fraser Gilchrist," said Richard.

He laid the picture of Fraser down on the table.

"The other people with Fraser there are Rab Cullen, Steve Miller, Sean O'Reilly and Nora MacSween. I got this from a Special Branch file - they had been looking at Cullen — something about connections to loyalist groups in Northern Ireland. The police never had any access to this."

"I'm still not making a connection here, you're going to have to help me," said Henry.

"Just one last thing to show you," said Richard.

He retrieved a passport application from his briefcase, the little photograph of the applicant still stapled to the form.

"This is a passport application made by Frank Bruton. Recognise him at all?"

Henry looked at the picture and then compared it to the much older, black and white image that Richard had already handed over.

"They look like the same man to me — Gilchrist and Bruton I mean," said Henry.

"Exactly!" chuckled Richard.

"What am I missing?" asked Henry.

"I believe that your boy MacSween is the Romantic Vigilante. Everything you've told me this morning backs that up. He's a romantic at heart, think about it. Taking on a mission to pass on a dying man's last words. Trying to help a woman in trouble. The break-ins, the killing of the cop. It all fits."

"You've lost me, Richard. How have you managed to work that out?" asked Henry.

"Look at the old photo again. Miller is the one that was killed first — the raid on the pub covered in the very first cutting I gave you. There's been no sign of the vigilante for months and the belief is that he was Sean O'Reilly."

Richard lifted the police file covering the deaths of Cullen and O'Reilly.

"Nora MacSween was raped by three men and there was a witness — Gavin MacSween. I'm willing to bet that those three men were Miller, Cullen and O'Reilly - who are all now dead. The final scene — Cullen and O'Reilly killing each other, the burnt body of the third man — it's all too neat. I can smell a set up.

"You'll notice that Fraser Gilchrist has his arm round Nora MacSween's shoulders? The reports say that she was his girlfriend and probably the father of her child — Gavin MacSween."

 
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