Sunday afternoon: a phone call

[x-kylun.livejournal.com]

In which Charles gets some potentially very unsettling news to pass on to Kylun.



What with one thing and another, it was a rare occasion when Charles had the time and opportunity to relax with a good book; unfortunately, this Sunday afternoon was not to be one of those times, as his private line rang almost as soon as he opened the cover. One eyebrow arched as he took note of the caller ID, and he picked up the receiver before the second ring. "Hello, Graham," he said warmly. "I wasn't expecting to hear back from you so soon; may I take it you have news for me?"

"Yes--well, I might, it's a bit complicated," said the voice on the other end of the line with a rueful chuckle. Graham Appleby was an old friend, a bear of a man with a spiderweb of connections in law enforcement communities throughout Europe. "I've just come back from drinks with Jacques Reynault--my wife's cousin, you know, retired now, of course, but he worked Missing Persons at Interpol for a number of years. He remembered a case, a kidnapped Scottish child in Switzerland in the general timeframe you gave me. It's the best lead I've found, but the particulars . . . well, I don't want to say too much before I'm sure, or at least more sure than I am."

"I quite understand," Charles replied, "and more to the point, I believe Kylun would as well. Is there anything I can do on this end to help?"

"Matter of fact, there is. Jacques called in a favor and got me a copy of the picture they circulated during the original search. Do you think you could have your man take a look at it? Lord knows I wouldn't recognize myself at four years old unless the picture was labeled, but if it's familiar to him at all, I'll keep digging into this."

"I certainly could--and will. Thank you, Graham."

The other man laughed. "Thank me once I've actually found something. This may all turn out to be so much smoke. And, Charles?"

"Yes?"

"Are you sure your man's parents are dead?"