TO LOVE SOMEONE Eight Ben arrived in Geneva the next morning by aeroplane. Unfortunately his departure from his new love Estelle had been difficult for him to explain. Unable to release to her his findings of criminal intrigue. The murder of Ricardo Villa—the one death of an underground criminal assassin he new of so far, deaths by fire of a whole family. Not to mention the young daughter who’s remains had never been found but now considered presumed dead by her absence. Along with the disappearance of a man named Vincent de lay Rey some twenty-five years before—a day before Aldo Niesta and his family had been burnt to death. The moving into position of ownership of the cartel by lower members of the cartel after Aldo Niesta the main cartel owner had been killed. Along with the disappearance of the lower cartel member Vincent de la Rey! These whirlpools of knowledge gnawed at his sense of duty as a police detective. Telling Estelle she had to trust him—he was not running away—she would have to trust him as a man. And he her as a women. She agreed upon seeing his sincerity. Only time would tell if he would ever see her again. Before Leaving Madrid he had made contact with the police in Geneva. Making arrangements to at least be met by a representative of the Swiss police force when he arrived at the airport. The contact at the airport had taken Ben through to the police commissioners office. He was greeted by an officious wall of red tape. ‘Why are you here detective Stapleton?’ Asked an unmoveable sergeant in uniform at the reception. ‘I would like to make an appointment with the police commissioner. Now today if at all possible?’ Ben said keeping him self under control. While the sergeant made a tut-tut sound directed at Ben. He was fortunate that most people he had met so far could speak English. This Thought Ben would help him enormously. It appeared the Swiss had become bogged down with paper work. The sergeant took out four sheets of forms which he handed to Ben. ‘Detective, you will have to fill in these forms. Back and front,’ he pushed them into Ben’s hand. He became infuriated by this. He had not met with this type of policing while he was in Spain. Holding the forms up in his left hand. ‘This is ridiculous! I can’t reveal my reasons for wanting to see the police commissioner. What I have to say is for him and his ears only,’ Ben spat loudly at the sergeant. This seemed to slow the man down even more. ‘Look the police commissioner is a very busy man. He will not just drop everything for every dick that wanders in from around the world,’ retorted the sergeant. Becoming incensed by the English policeman’s unwillingness to follow Swiss police protocol. Ben worked on the assumption that he would either be thrown out of the door or allowed to proceed with the duty he felt he earnestly had to do. It was the latter that became effective. A burly looking civilian dressed Swiss detective became aware of the row. Now in full swing at the reception desk. It spoilt his concentration on his own deliberations of detective work. ‘Hey! What is going on here?’ He shouted over the desk sergeant and Ben’s rowdy argument that had been close to becoming out of control. People inside the reception had found the row most unusual. The sergeant took a deep breath then stated his case. ‘This detective . . .’ He paused not knowing Ben’s full name yet. Looking at Ben the sergeant at least giving him a moment to state his name. ‘Stapleton . . . detective Ben Stapleton of Scotland yard London England!’ Said Ben with anguish. He raised his voice as he spoke. The sergeant stood slightly bemused. In slight embarrassment he put out his hand taking the forms back off Ben. ‘You did not say you are from Scotland yard,’ he looked at Ben with some annoyance on his face. ‘You never gave me time to say so!’ replied Ben not sure where he was at this point. The Burly detective took over the situation. Endeavouring to get the sergeant to go and worry some of the public that required his services. He motioned Ben around the front desk with a quick movement of his head back behind the desk. Ben followed him passing through a small swing gate into the open office area. Standing out side the door of an office he gestured for Ben to enter. Carrying an over night bag Ben went inside followed by the burly detective. Who at this point had not said a word to Ben yet. ‘Be seated,’ was all the Swiss detective said while he went and sat in his own chair. Watching him sit down Ben placed his bag down on the floor next to the desk. Ben sat down. ‘I am detective Alessio Bise. No one comes close to the police commissioner unless they see and speak with me first.’ Ben sat low, slumped in his chair. Feeling beaten already. The detective before him appeared unmovable as the sergeant he had just been through a verbal war with. At least six feet four inches tall. With a receding hair line. Detective Bise was also slightly over weight. Not someone any thief, criminal or the like would want to come into close contact with down a back ally at midnight. ‘So what is it you would like to discuss with our police commissioner that is too important for anyone else’s ears?’ Speaking with a deep Swiss accented voice. Bise’s brown eyes searched Ben. While waiting for his revelation. Ben thought a moment then asked. ‘Where is the police commissioner. Is he here?’ With a slow low toned voice himself. Having decided he would only discuss the part of the Niesta case that involved the missing cartel member Vincent de La Rey. ‘He . . . is not here.’ Bise replied in his deep voice slowly. Getting impatient with the unwanted Englishman that now stubbornly sat at his desk. ‘Where is he?’ Rummaged Ben feeling he enjoyed irritating the large ape that now obstructed his duty. ‘On leave for a week,’ replied Bise happy to play verbal tennis with the Englishman. ‘If you want to wait for one week. He will be back . . . but you will still have to lay your reason’s for being here to me first!’ He sat back into his chair making him self comfortable. Showing Ben he was quite content to be hard assed too. Looking away from Bise for a moment. Ben looked back at him. He would see how far he could get with Bise. If the man obstructed him beyond what was considered reasonable he would report him. ‘Okay . . . I will let you in on the matter of my case. It concerns an American man who disappeared in this country some twenty-five years ago,’ said Ben stopping at that point he waited for Bise’s reply. To Ben’s surprise Bise responded in a positive way. ‘Twenty-five years ago!’ Bise raised his eye brows. ‘That is a long time . . . what was he doing here in Switzerland?’ He asked still leaning back into his chair. But the tone of his voice had risen slightly. Ben could hear he was interested. Ben shook his head sitting forward slightly in his chair. ‘I don’t know detective Bise . . . it is the reason I am here,’ he said honestly adding. ‘His disappearance blocks the further advancement of a case I am investigating.’ He looked at Bise who sat silent listening. Ben added some more saying. ‘If I informed you of anymore on this case it could unbalance the nature of it . . . and possibly damage your position as a detective,’ said Ben holding his silence. Bise looked at him quite sternly, hard faced. ‘How do you know he came to Switzerland,’ asked Bise wanting to help. But he needed a starting point if he was to. Ben thought a moment saying. ‘It was on . . . it was known that he visited here. My source has been confirmed as positive so I am not placing you into a wild goose chase detective Bise!’ That was as far as Ben could go. But just as the tension appeared to be rising again he added. ‘The date he entered the country was on the seventh of April nineteen eighty-seven,’ this seemed to galvanise Bise. ‘Then that is easy,’ he smiled widely at Ben. Taking him by surprise. ‘Why is that?’ Ben adjusting his jacket as he leant forward. ‘We can check arrivals for that day on our computers,’ he said rather simply. Ben was quite happily surprised at this. ‘If he came in by the airport. He could easily have declared there as to where he intended to stay while he was in Switzerland!’ Bise added. His eyes seemed to sparkle brightly as he said this. Ben felt numb at not having thought of it himself. But then again he had been up against a petulant sergeant when he had just arrived in the country. He could see he was going to have to ride the wave. Or go with the flow while he was working with the Swiss police department. Bise stood up. ‘Come lets go to our computer room. I am sure we can find much about this man you are looking for.’ Making his way out of the room. Ben had to get up quickly from his seat to follow him. Bise seemed to lumber his way past other members of the police department. Such was his physical size. They walked further inside the building until they came to a double door of an elevator. This took them down to a floor a few levels below ground. They stepped out into an open area packed with computers and staff that operated them. Bise made a bee line for one particular staff member. ‘This is Kim Blickensdeter she will help you with the information that you require detective Stapleton,’ Bise with an hand out towards the computer terminal operator. She looked up at Ben giving him only a slight smile. ‘When you are finished here Kim will let me know and I will come and fetch you, okay!’ Said Bise lightly. He stood back form the computer desk to allow Ben access. As Bise was about to leave Ben acknowledged his help. ‘Thank you I am most grateful,’ he said looking at Bise briefly before turning his attention to the task in hand. ‘What is it you would like me to look up detective Stapleton?’ The women asked looking at Ben. Her hands resting in front of the key board as though she was a part of the computer terminal her self. With brunette hair tied back behind her head. Her eyes blue. A slim face women. Ben took out his note book from the inside of his jacket pocket. Making sure he opened it on a blank page. He looked for a spare seat which he collected then sat down next to Kim. Settling him self down he said. ‘I am looking for an American named Vincent del La Rey . . . He entered Switzerland on the seventh of April nineteen eighty-seven. Through Geneva airport,’ Ben told her. ‘Do you know which flight or the time?’ She asked not looking at him but fixed ready to work the computer key board when he spoke. ‘No, I’m sorry I don’t. Here is how you spell his name,’ Ben had written the name down in his note pad. He leaned over showing Kim so she had the correct spelling. Swiftly taking note Kim pressed the name into the computer. In less than a second Vincent del La Reys profile came up onto the screen. His passport photo and its details. ‘You are correct detective Stapleton he did enter Switzerland on that day . . .’ She paused a moment adding to Ben’s utter surprise. ‘He also left the country the next day! Later at midday going out of Switzerland via the border crossing at Perly into France!’ She turned to look at Ben. He sat with a look of disbelief on his face. Kim thought his reaction was compelling. Ben stammered trying to speak such was excitement. ‘Ca . . . can you get the car registration, make etc, for me Kim,’ asked Ben now ready with his pen and note book. ‘Yes,’ Said Kim looking side ways at Ben. She could see he had become excitedly obsessed with the information he was now getting. Giving Ben the registration of the car and its make. Kim also said. ‘He drove a hire car too!’ This gave Ben shivers through his whole body. This man had been dead for twenty-five years. Yet here he was having driven out of Switzerland into France! Ben could not believe what he was finding out! But why was he going into France? Why was he driving a car? Ben could not understand this. Fumbling with his thoughts his mind worked quickly, almost too quickly for him to think straight. He stammered slightly once more as he spoke. Trying to get his next set of information out of the computer network. ‘Ca . . . Ca . . . can you determine if he stayed over at a hotel while he was here,’ he asked finally able to get the words out of his mouth. His thought patterns as mixed as was the tongue inside his mouth. Kim followed his request working the computer keys with skill. Looking at the screen she brought up more information for Ben now. It was more astounding than what he had just learnt. ‘Yes he had booked a room at the Hotel d’Grandre here in Switzerland . . . but he then stayed over at a small hotel villa in the border town of Perly!’ This staggered Ben’s brain cells more so. Why book a room in a hotel, arrive in Geneva, not stay over night in that hotel but then travel a few miles to a border post in a hire car, then sleep in a third rate hotel? It didn’t make sense! Ben was confused. He shook his head lowering it slightly. ‘When was the last time you slept?’ Asked Kim now seeing Ben’s obvious tiredness. ‘I had a few hours sleep . . . I’ll be okay, I just need some coffee and a bite to eat,’ he said looking at Kim. ‘I can show you where the canteen is,’ started Kim. Ben stopped her before she could say anymore. ‘I haven’t managed to get any Swiss francs yet,’ he said feeling slightly stupid. Kim looked at him pan faced. Luckily for Ben Being a visitor a meal was on the house. So to speak. With Kim taking them both up in the elevator to the first floor of the building. He found him self sitting with detective Bise once more. A big man who needed to feed his massive frame, even between breakfast and lunch. Bise sat eating a pickled onion cheese sandwich. ‘So you found what you required?’ He asked Ben. Who sat slowly stirring his second cup of coffee. His stomach taken care of. He was now able to relax digesting what he had just learnt while working with Kim. ‘Some,’ was all he said at first. Then he looked up at Bise who watched him closely while he ate his sandwich. Bise raised his eye brows—mouth full—as he chewed his food. Ben looked at the spoon he held stirring the coffee in some thought. ‘It is quite staggering what I have just learnt . . . I can’t quite understand what the man was up to.’ He told Bise who now finished his sandwich. He wiped his lips with a paper serviette. Ben was quite happy to divulge his findings with Bise. In the hope it might spring some answer out of the jig saw puzzle that was beginning to over whelm him once more. Leaning his huge arms onto the tiny dining table Bise suggested. ‘Why don’t we go to the Hotel d’Grandre and find out what had made him leave their so soon!’ Ben looked up from his coffee stirring in surprise at Bise’s offer. ‘That is a bloody good idea!’ Agreed Ben finding the man did have a streak of initiative inside him. Downing his coffee quickly though reluctantly Ben made his way after Bise who was already making his way out of the canteen door to his car. There was one thing thought Ben. For a big man Bise could not half shift him self about! Arriving at the Hotel d’Grandre the two detectives had located the hotel manager. Ben once more found himself working closely with a another detective in another foreign country. But luckily the hotel manager spoke English well. ‘A man who was here twenty-five years ago!’ The manager’s eyes rolled back into his head, that he shook in bewilderment. He fetched a hotel guest book after a brief search in a small room. No larger than a small dressing cupboard. Filled with a layer of shelving that had all the guest books from when the hotel was built over fifty years before. Wiping some dust that had gathered onto the guest book for nineteen eighty-seven. The manger sat down at his desk. While Ben sat with the larger than life Bise next to him. The hotel manager ran an index finger down the list of names from the year. ‘Here!’ He said turning the book round for both Ben and Bise to look at. Bise took it pulling the book across the table laying it between himself and Ben. There it was. Vincent de la Rey’s name printed and singed by the man himself. Bise looked at the hotel manager. ‘Is there anyone working here today that might have been on duty on this day. Though it was some time ago,’ taking the words right out of Ben’s mouth. The manager thought a moment. ‘More than likely it was Signora Leonie Blattner . . . though she is retired.’ Looking back across the desk at the two men. ‘She worked here for over thirty years. If anyone would remember anything at all about the man you are looking for it would be her,’ he advised them both. ‘Any idea where she lives today?’ Asked Ben reaching for his note book once more. The manager looked pensive in deep thought. ‘I my self am not too sure . . . let me ask one of the staff at reception, they might know.’ Getting up he went out of his office leaving Ben alone with Bise. Neither man spoke. It was not that they disliked each other. They sat silently together with baited breath to see if the next step of Ben’s investigation could be found. Looking at the blank wall behind the desk. Still Ben could not escape the overwhelming physical presence of Bise next to him. After some minutes the manager returned with a piece of paper in hand. To which it fell into the long arm of Bise’s out stretched hand. He looked at what was written on it. ‘I know where this place is,’ he said immediately, looking across the table at the manager while in one movement he handed the piece of paper to Ben. He looked at the address written on it. Champel, Geneva—Av. Dumas 1143. Bidding the hotel manager goodbye thanking him for his help. The two men made their way to an old age home in the centre of Geneva. After making their way through the reception of the home. A stately looking building with two floors. With elegantly designed green cropped hedges on either side of the entrance way before the front door. They were led up stairs to the first floor by a chamber maid dressed in a black and white outfit. She knocked gently on the heavy wooden brown well laminated door. An elderly women’s voice called from inside. ‘Entrer!’ She said in French. Entering the room the maid spoke in English to the grey haired lady who sat in a chair at the window. It over looked the garden and road outside of the building. She stood up firmly onto her feet. Not withered by her years completely yet. She appeared to have all her senses about her as she approached the two men. With short grey hair. She looked at the two men before her with the daintiest of smiles on her lips. Her eyes searched brightly from one man to the other. Questioning their presence to her self as to why she would be the recipient of their visit. ‘Signora Blattner this is detective’s Bise and Stapleton they would like to ask you some questions if they may?’ Asked the maid quietly. Without a word the old lady gestured with a hand for the two men to sit. With the maid withdrawing from the room she closed the door behind her as she left. Taking a chair each, the only other two in the room. They sat near to the rooms bed while Signora Blattner took her position at the window in her chair. Pulling it round to face them. She sat catching her breath as she looked at them. ‘What can I do for you gentlemen?’ She asked in a heavy French accent. Ben looked towards the enormity of Bise. Sat overbearingly in the small chair. Seeing he was remaining silent letting Ben get on with his investigation he asked. ‘Signora Blattner I am in the process of looking for a man who . . . disappeared some twenty five years ago,’ he said watching her as he spoke. She listened intently to him—fortunately—he thought. She said nothing but sat listening to him. Ben continued. ‘We know he had booked to stay at the Hotel d’Grandre but did not as it turned out . . . he was an American named Vincent de La Rey would you recollect any man by this name? . . .’ hopeful it was chance at best. ‘I remember him like it was yesterday!’ She said brightly her hands resting on her lap. With her back straight she sat up. ‘What can you remember about him?’ asked Ben leaning forward resting an arm on top of his knees. She looked away a moment going back to that time. ‘He came into the reception one night in a terrible state,’ her face became puzzled at the memory. ‘You see he stayed at the hotel frequently. But he was such a gentleman . . . always a kind word, slight in build but a big man . . . he was very, very intelligent. One evening he arrived in a dishevelled state wearing clothes that where much to large for him. I noticed he had a large wound to the back of his head, it bled slightly, I remembering asking him what had happened but he said surprisingly that he had been mugged! In our area . . . seemed a bit out of place to me.’ she went silent having divulged this information. Her eyes drifting still at the thought of the memory of Vincent de La Rey so long ago. Seeing her memory of that evening was still intact. ‘Was there anything more you can remember that happened that night regards Vincent de La Rey?’ Ben asked hopeful that there was. A loose end that might link him to the next step in trying to locate the where a bouts of this man. Without a moments thought Signora Blattner continued. Placing a hand to her cheek she looked at Ben as she spoke. ‘I asked if I should call the police,’ answering with a movement from side to side of her head slightly. Her face covered in worry at the memory. She carried on. ‘He insisted I did not—emphasising strongly . . . but when he had gone up to his room I did just that . . . not right that people can get away with mugging someone . . . especially a nice man as Vincent de La Rey.’ She said quite sternly. ‘What happened when the police arrived,’ asked Ben watching her. She looked at him with a perplexed look on her face. ‘When they arrived they went up to his room . . . he was not there! He just simply vanished into thin air!’ She spoke louder than before. Her brow frowning the memory more difficult to bear. ‘Is he alright . . . did something else happen to him?’ she asked showing great concern. ‘We are completely satisfied that he was alright . . . it is just his where a bouts that we seek Signora Blattner,’ Bise his voice deep but gently consoling. This seemed to calm the elderly Signora Blattner. He looked across at Ben with a beady eyed expression on his face. Their interview time with Signora Blattner had gone far enough. Any more past memories of this event Bise was sure would become only upsetting for the old lady. Thanking her generously for her help and time they left the old age home. On the way out Ben was blunt in his request that he needed to see Kim back inside the computer centre once more. ‘Why is that Mr Stapleton?’ He asked stopping inside the foyer of the old age home. He looked penetratingly at Ben for the reason. ‘To see if any one might have seen what happened to Vincent . . . who hit him on the back of his head . . . maybe someone else saw something on that day and reported it to the police?’ Ben pleaded adding. ‘I know it is scraps but it is all we have?’ he said looking hopefully at Bise. He liked to protect the computer staff from outside interference but he new Ben was right. ‘Okay,’ his deep voice boomed somewhat in the open area of the foyer of the old age home. In no time Ben was back down below ground sitting next to Kim at her computer. They searched together, the rolling list of anything that might shed light on the condition of Vincent that evening. After a few hour of meticulous searching in and out of various police reports. One stood out that was unequal to any other that had been reported that day. Kim translated it for Ben who listened note pad and pen in hand. He jotted down the information he require as she told him. ‘A couple, man and wife, who had been scuba diving that day. Reported to the police that they had rescued a man they had seen thrown unconscious from the back of a boat,’ she glanced at Ben wide eyed. ‘Not an every day event in Lake Geneva,’ she said jokingly. But it was true. ‘Does it show an address of the couple . . . where they are living?—today,’ asked Ben ignoring her attempted humour; concentrating himself on this next step of his investigation. ‘Yes,’ said Kim taking Ben’s note pad and pen off him. She wrote down the name of the couple along with their address. Handing it back to him satisfied with her work she let out a small exhaling of breath. Her chest rose then fell slightly. She looked at him. ‘Police investigation can be exciting to someone who spends all their time in front of a computer terminal detective Stapleton,’ not smiling. ‘And infuriatingly frustrating at times too!’ Ben replied feeling giddy at this next revelatory step along the way. He stood up thanking her gratefully for her help. Once more that day he made his way along with Bise to a new address. Bise—Ben felt, in his own way helped because of his enormity of his physical size and demeanour. The man took no rebuke with anything or anyone as he made his way. Getting to their next lead. It was a house that lay over looking the Lake Geneva in the town of Cologny just outside Geneva its self. They sat in the lounge of an wealthy couple now into their late forties. The man tall some weight on his frame. Ben could see by his build he had been quite an athletic type in his younger days. Clean shaven, he sat along side his wife a blonde women. ‘So you rescued this man while you had been scuba diving in Lake Geneva.’ Asked Ben. After their introductory talks Ben sat rooted to his seat listening to the story the man told them. ‘We could not believe it. We had been coming to the surface. When a boat . . . a speed boat above us slowed down then dumped this body over board. Almost on top of us! . . . immediately it sped away.’ The man’s eyes wide in expression as he told his tale sat upright as he explained. His hands moved about excitedly. While his wife leaned forward next to him in thought at the distant memory. Seemingly small by comparison next to her husband. She listened to him explain the tale for the umpteenth time. This time to a detective from England. It seemed unusual that after so long some one like Ben had turned up to discuss it. ‘The body, weighted with a concrete block and chain around it, started to drop like a stone once it hit the water. But I grabbed hold of it luckily before it passed by. Otherwise it would have sank disappearing into the depths . . . I struggled with the body towards our tiny scuba boat just managing to get it onto the boat between the two of us . . . it was a man . . . totally naked . . . to our surprise he was still alive!’ He spoke excitedly watching both Ben and Bise who sat listening to this man’s incredible tale. ‘Most people will catch a fish . . . we caught a man!’ Interrupted his wife without looking up or changing her position. ‘What happened when he came too?’ Asked Ben wondering what it was that had been discussed between the then younger couple and Vincent. ‘He came too at the bottom of the boat . . . Obviously he did not know where he was. And in a state of complete confusion in the extreme cold. We took him back to the small apartment that we lived in at the time. Helping him to recover. When he did his behaviour became erratic,’ the man paused looking at Ben and Bise. ‘Why? . . . What happened?’ Asked Bise completely enthralled by the tale he was hearing. His large frame sat bolt upright as he listened in some awe. It was the man’s wife who spoke. ‘I placed some soup on the table next to him . . . he suddenly stood up. Unsteady on his feet shouting loudly . . . ‘The Bastards!’ . . . we where shocked and became very afraid. He asked if we had a telephone, which we did, we let him use it. Who ever it was he tried to call he could not get into contact with . . . he grew more nervous . . . I became petrified by his actions . . . the way he moved he was obviously slightly concussed by a heavy blow to the back of his head. Then he said he had to leave . . . or else our lives would be in danger. Then he left . . . oh he did say that one day he would repay us for saving him . . . that kind of left a little comfort to the way he acted,’ she looked up at Both detectives sadly asking. ‘What became of him?’ She said moving closer to her husband. They both watched Ben and Bise. Ben sat silent then asked before Bise could answer them. ‘I require . . . if I may, the address of the apartment you had at that time. Also would you still have your phone number from that address?’ ‘Oh course,’ said the man confidently. ‘It is the same one we have here . . . we took the number with us. We have been in this house since we left the apartment!’ Ben breathed a sigh of relief. Realising that there was a good chance that phone records just might be kept. He could see Bise’s reaction too. He caught Ben’s eye realising that their questioning of the couple was now over. ‘The gentleman in question we know is safe. He is missing at the moment but our investigation has just leapt closer to his where a bouts. With the information you have given us,’ he said polishing their ego. They deserved it thought Ben. Looking back at them as he and Bise drove away. Somewhere down the line he felt sure that this man Vincent de La Rey would be the unsung hero to the outcome of his investigation. Within half an hour Ben was sat next to Kim back down at the police computer room. Detective Bise hung around this time. Needing to know for himself who it was that de La Re had been trying to contact. In no time it showed onto the computer screen. The number that Vincent could not get through too. It was the mansion phone number of Aldo Iniesta! Ben felt elated. But wondered what the reason was that the call had not been taken. He looked at Bise who’s face beamed. A big smile on his larger than life face. ‘Has the world of investigative opportunity just opened up for you detective Ben Stapleton?’ He asked his deep voice boomed with a winning chuckle. He looked at Ben happy he had been able to assist the Englishman. He new this was now the end of his visit. He had come to like the man. His perseverance he had noted was unending. Bise himself had taken Ben back to the airport to catch a return flight back to Madrid. Shaking Bise’s massive hand for the first time. Ben looked at his Swiss counter part saying before he parted. ‘Men like you detective Bise are like gold to men like me,’ Bise his large face lit up as though someone had just flicked a switch. A beaming smile on his face. ‘With out you I could not have gotten this far!’ Bise nodded letting go of Ben’s hand. ‘Have a nice trip detective Stapleton. I hope you get to end of this journey you are on. That you discover the truth, how ever disgusting it may be, have a strong nerve?’ With that he smiled slightly then turned and left Ben alone to board his aeroplane back to Madrid.
Posted on: Wed, 04 Jun 2014 21:13:53 +0000
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