“Can I say ‘I told you so’,” Sally asked, looking at Charlotte over lunch.
“No.”
“Oh, come on, you’ve got your man, let me gloat.”
Charlotte sighed. “Fine, you were right, I was wrong; you told me so – there it is, happy now?”
“Very. But not as happy as you, by the looks of it.”
“Hmm. It will depend if we’re ever in the same place at the same time. He’s away now for the rest of the week on business. And don’t say absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that; I’ve never bought that crap.”
Sally laughed. “It will be good to take it slow; after all, he’s not going anywhere – you live together! Did he kiss you?”
“Good grief, how old are we?”
“So, was it good?”
“Great.”
Sally sighed. “At last. I’m almost jealous.”
Charlotte lowered her voice. “Hey, I wanted to ask your thoughts on something confidential.”
“OK.”
“I think Mitch was abused as a kid. I think he had a violent parent; I’m assuming it was his father.”
“Did he tell you that?” Sally frowned.
“No. But I found out that he has a file with the Department of Children and Families. You don’t get those unless there has been a reported incident. I have seen the signs a thousand times with patients. You know, limited family contact, doesn’t give out his home number, never talks about his past and has few intimate personal relationships. Plus, he has scars that he goes out of his way to avoid discussing; avoiding stimuli associated with the trauma is quite common. And since he’s been on night shift and is a bit out of whack, he’s been having these amazing nightmares. He wakes himself up yelling in his sleep.”
“About what?”
“I only heard a few times. He called out for his father once, then someone called Henry. The other times it was quite violent; he’s woken up shaking and sweating.”
“Could be work stress or …”
“No. I’ve seen it before,” Charlotte lowered her voice. “It’s a post-traumatic stress disorder; a traumatic event is experienced, like a violent assault, and the affected person will disassociate themselves from it until a trigger brings it back to the surface.”
“So, you think Mitch’s nightmares are because the recent bashing he got triggered the emotions of being hit as a child? Seems a bit simplistic, and it’s not the first time he’s been in a fight.”
“No, there is probably more to it … other triggers.”
“Did you read the file?” Sally asked.
“No. I can’t access it,” Charlotte took a sip of water. “But I spoke to him about his dreams and he shut down. Told me to stop digging. I’m worried that it will affect him at the wrong time or he’ll react unexpectedly to something and place himself in danger.”
“Does that happen?” Sally asked surprised.
“All the time. You hear about people who flip out and do something out of character over little things that send them off. Everyone comes out of the woodwork to say they’re so surprised – so-and-so always seemed so mild-mannered. It’s delayed onset.”
“Hmm. Look Charlie, I’m with Mitch on this. I know it’s an occupational hazard for you and you think that talking about it can cure everything, but I don’t. I like the philosophy of get over it and move on. If it happened and if he wants to tell you he will. Let him do that when he’s ready.”
“Stop trying to save him?” Charlotte asked.
“Precisely.”
Ellen pulled the hire car into the car park of the Eureka Best Western Hotel. She shook Nick’s shoulder to wake him up.
“We’re here.”
Nick stirred and began to sit up.
“John called while you were out to it; you can sleep through anything,” Ellen said. “He said Daniel used his credit card to book three rooms at this hotel and he’s hired a sports utility in Vegas. He’s also changed his flight from Elko to Vegas.”
“No doubt to meet his backup team,” Nick stretched. “Sounds like they’re coming in too late to get connecting flights to Elko. They’ll have to do the five-and-a-half hour drive from Vegas to Eureka.”
“Gives us time to be seen, so that when Daniel asks around about you, he’ll know you’re in town,” Ellen said.
“Yeah, let’s go be seen,” Nick got out of the car and waited for Ellen. They walked into reception.
“Daniel Reid, Cambridge Law School, graduate attorney-at-law, 29, employed by Globalnet. A media company run by …”
“Lawrence Hackett,” Mitch filled in the rest as he sat in John’s office.
“Yes,” John continued. “Billionaire and successful media man.”
“And,” Mitch sat down opposite him, “in his late forties, been at the helm for over twenty years.”
The two men looked at each other.
“It’s a big call associating the masterminding of a perfect crime with someone like Lawrence Hackett,” Mitch shook his head, “it’s so extreme. Why would he do it? Risk it?”
John reached for his coffee. “Bored. Looking for a thrill. Thinks he’s above the law.”
“Maybe,” Mitch agreed.
Samantha knocked on the door. “Got it.” She grinned. John moved to give her access to his computer.
“This is the Mastermind site,” she called it up on the screen. “It’s set up as Nick said it would be.”
Samantha clicked into a number of different areas. “When you go through to the engine room … for want of a better term,” she said, leaving the front page, “you’ll find the site is coming from a company called Globalnet.” Samantha showed them the connection between the company and the game site.
Mitch and John exchanged looks.
“Guess it’s not that extreme, after all,” Mitch rose. “This is huge.”
“Bigger than we thought, that’s for sure,” John looked at the Aurum file on his desk. “How much back up do you want?”
“Can you get me one of our U.K. guys for starters?” Mitch asked.
“Done. Your flight leaves for London in less than two hours,” John reminded them. “I’ll get the U.K. agent to liaise with you at your hotel.”