Chapter 18 - TWO SIMONS
Simon Kessler was still in custody.
Bennett confirmed it personally.
Nathan stared through video at the man sitting in the London interview room.
Same face.
Same voice.
Same mannerisms.
Vale insisted he had seen Simon in France.
There were only a few possibilities.
Mistaken identity.
Disguise.
Twin.
Nathan almost laughed at the last.
Then Rachel went silent.
Nathan looked at her.
“What?”
She had gone pale.
“My father once said something.”
“What?”
“About Simon.”
Nathan’s stomach tightened.
“What did he say?”
“That Simon never attended university reunions.”
Nathan frowned.
“That means nothing.”
Rachel continued.
“He said there were years when Simon seemed to forget conversations they had.”
Nathan stared.
“Still not enough.”
“And my mother used to call him Michael.”
The room became silent.
Nathan looked at Bennett.
“Who is Michael?”
Rachel whispered.
“Simon’s brother.”
Nathan stared.
“He has a brother?”
“I thought he died.”
“When?”
“Twenty-seven years ago.”
“How?”
“Car accident.”
Nathan almost laughed.
Another car accident.
Bennett began searching records.
Simon Kessler.
Born 1968.
Twin brother.
Michael Kessler.
Born same day.
Reported dead 1999.
No body publicly identified.
Closed-casket funeral.
Nathan felt a chill.
“What if Michael did not die?”
Rachel whispered.
“My father knew them both.”
“Could they pass for each other?”
“Yes.”
Nathan looked through the glass at the man in custody.
“Which one is that?”
Nobody could answer.
Bennett ordered fingerprints compared against historical legal records.
Old passport files were obtained.
The man in custody matched Simon’s current documents.
But if identities had been exchanged decades ago, that proved little.
A DNA comparison with archived family samples was requested.
No time.
Vale was in danger.
French police surrounded the alpine property.
Nathan joined by secure video.
Officers entered.
They found Catherine Vale alive.
Age sixty-eight.
Frail.
Confused.
But alive.
Dr. Vale was also found.
Unharmed.
The man he thought was Simon had fled.
Security cameras captured his face.
Nathan stared.
It was Simon.
Or Michael.
The resemblance was perfect.
Only one subtle difference.
The man in France wore his watch on the right wrist.
The man in London wore his on the left.
Rachel covered her mouth.
“My father used to say Michael was left-handed.”
Nathan looked at the London feed.
The detainee signed a document.
Right hand.
Bennett frowned.
“Watch preference is not proof.”
“No.”
“But it is something.”
Vale came on-screen.
His face collapsed when Rachel appeared.
“Rachel.”
“Dad.”
“Your mother is alive.”
Rachel began crying.
Nathan gave them privacy for a moment.
Then Vale insisted on speaking.
“There were always two.”
Nathan stared.
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
“For how long?”
“Years.”
“Why did you never tell anyone?”
Vale laughed bitterly.
“Which Simon would I tell?”
Nathan’s anger returned.
“Enough riddles.”
Vale nodded.
“Simon and Michael used each other’s identities when they were young.”
“Why?”
“Fraud.”
“Exams.”
“Business meetings.”
“Women.”
“Juvenile things.”
“Then Michael supposedly died.”
Vale swallowed.
“But afterward I sometimes saw Simon behaving like Michael.”
Nathan frowned.
“What was different?”
“Simon was charming.”
“Michael was colder.”
“Simon liked control through persuasion.”
“Michael enjoyed fear.”
Nathan thought of the man he had confronted.
Which one?
“Who worked for my family?”
Vale answered.
“Both.”
Nathan felt sick.
“They alternated?”
“Sometimes.”
“Did Eleanor know?”
“No.”
“Adrian?”
“No.”
“Amelia?”
Vale hesitated.
“I think she discovered it.”
Nathan’s chest tightened.
“When?”
“The week she died.”
Nathan closed his eyes.
Another reason she became dangerous.
“What about the car?”
Vale looked terrified.
“I believe Michael ordered Peter to sabotage it.”
“Not Simon?”
“I don’t know.”
Nathan almost shouted.
Vale continued quickly.
“The problem is that they used the same accounts.”
“The same phone.”
“The same office.”
“Sometimes the same identity.”
Nathan stared.
That explained contradictions.
Simon claiming ignorance of plans another “Simon” made.
Different levels of cruelty.
Different operational styles.
Perhaps Eleanor had been manipulated by one brother while Adrian dealt with the other.
“Which one is in custody?”
Vale studied the video.
“I can’t tell.”
Rachel whispered.
“I can.”
Everyone turned.
She looked toward the screen.
“What?”
Nathan asked.
“The ring.”
The man in custody wore a plain silver ring on his right hand.
“My mother gave Michael that ring when they were teenagers.”
Nathan stared.
“Catherine knew them?”
Rachel nodded.
“They grew up together.”
Nathan felt another twist.
“Then the man in London is Michael.”
Rachel nodded.
“Probably.”
“And Simon is in France.”
“Or vice versa.”
Bennett ordered immediate enhanced detention and identity verification.
The man in custody laughed when confronted.
Bennett watched through the glass.
“Simon?”
He smiled.
“Inspector.”
“Michael?”
His smile widened.
There it was.
Not denial.
Enjoyment.
Bennett sat.
“Which one are you?”
He leaned back.
“Which one committed the crime?”
Nathan watched remotely.
Bennett did not react.
“The answer determines the charge.”
The man laughed.
“That is the problem with identity.”
“People treat it as fact when it is mostly paperwork.”
Nathan felt disgust.
“Where is your brother?”
The man looked toward the mirror.
He knew Nathan was watching.
“Hello, Nathan.”
Nathan’s jaw tightened.
The man continued.
“Did you enjoy discovering your family?”
Nathan wanted to break the glass.
Bennett remained calm.
“Where is your brother?”
“He is where he always is.”
“Somewhere someone trusts him.”
Nathan felt a chill.
Who still trusted Simon?
Not Eleanor.
Not Adrian.
Not Vale.
Not Rachel.
Not Thomas.
Not Nathan.
Then he thought of one person.
Graham’s wife?
Marco?
Claire?
Sophie?
No.
Someone farther outside.
Harcourt Global.
The board.
Simon had served as counsel for decades.
Many executives would still see him as legitimate.
Nathan called headquarters.
“Is Simon Kessler there?”
The receptionist hesitated.
“Mr. Kessler arrived ten minutes ago.”
Nathan’s blood turned cold.
“Lock the building.”
“Sir?”
“Now.”
He called security.
Too late.
Cameras showed Simon entering the executive floor.
Right wrist watch.
He walked directly toward Nathan’s office.
Why?
Evidence had been removed.
Computer seized.
Unless something remained.
Nathan remembered the package.
USB delivered to his office.
Maybe Simon wanted it.
Police converged.
Simon entered Nathan’s office.
He opened a hidden panel behind the bookcase.
Nathan stared at the security feed.
“I don’t have a hidden panel.”
Apparently he did.
Simon removed a small metal case.
Then the feed went dark.
Nathan swore.
Officers arrived three minutes later.
Office empty.
A maintenance elevator connected to the parking garage.
Simon was gone.
Again.
But the hidden compartment remained open.
Inside police found one object Simon had left behind.
A birth certificate.
Nathan stared at the scanned image.
Child.
Michael David Kessler.
Father.
Simon Kessler.
Mother.
Amelia Claire Harcourt.
Nathan stopped breathing.
“No.”
Rachel whispered.
“That can’t be real.”
The date was eight years before Jamie’s birth.
Nathan felt physically ill.
Was Simon claiming he had a child with Amelia?
Impossible.
Nathan had met Amelia nine years before Jamie was born.
She had never mentioned a child.
The certificate could be forged.
Likely forged.
But why leave it?
To destabilize him.
To make him question Amelia.
Simon’s favorite weapon.
Nathan stared.
Then Claire called.
Nathan answered immediately.
“Did Amelia ever have a child before Jamie?”
Claire went silent.
Nathan’s heart stopped.
“Claire.”
Her voice broke.
“Yes.”
Nathan could not speak.
“She was nineteen.”
“Before she met you.”
“What happened?”
Claire began crying.
“The baby died.”
Nathan closed his eyes.
“Name?”
“Michael.”
Nathan stared at the certificate.
“Father?”
Claire hesitated.
“I never knew.”
Nathan felt sick.
“Was it Simon?”
“No.”
“I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think?”
“She never told us.”
Nathan stared.
Why would Simon possess a forged birth certificate connecting himself to Amelia’s dead child?
Blackmail?
Identity manipulation?
Something worse?
Claire continued.
“Nathan.”
“What?”
“Amelia always said the baby died two days after birth.”
Nathan’s pulse quickened.
“Always?”
“Yes.”
“Did you see him?”
“No.”
“My parents handled everything.”
Nathan closed his eyes.
Another family secret.
Another hidden child.
He hated them.
He hated all of them.
Bennett examined the birth certificate.
“It could be fake.”
Nathan nodded.
“Probably.”
Rachel zoomed in.
Then stopped.
“The hospital.”
“What?”
She pointed.
“St. Catherine’s Private Hospital.”
Vale looked up sharply from the video screen.
“What?”
Nathan turned.
“You know it?”
Vale’s face drained.
“That was where Michael Kessler was declared dead after the 1999 accident.”
Nathan stared.
Same hospital.
Amelia’s baby supposedly died there years later.
Both deaths tied to identity.
Paperwork.
No bodies seen by close family.
Nathan felt a terrible suspicion.
“Check the birth record.”
Bennett did.
The certificate existed in the national archive.
But the father listed there was not Simon Kessler.
It was blank.
The copy Simon left had been altered.
Then they checked death records.
Infant Michael.
No matching death registration.
Claire stopped breathing.
“That’s impossible.”
Nathan stared.
“If there is no death certificate—”
Bennett cautioned.
“Records can be incomplete.”
Nathan knew.
But Amelia’s entire life had taught him to look where paperwork did not match stories.
They searched adoption records.
Sealed.
Private court order.
Solicitor of record.
Simon Kessler.
Nathan felt cold.
Amelia’s baby had not died.
The child had been placed somewhere through a sealed arrangement.
Possibly without her knowing.
Claire began sobbing.
“My parents told her he died.”
Nathan stared.
“Why?”
Claire shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
Then Vale whispered.
“I do.”
Everyone looked at him.
He seemed horrified.
“Amelia was nineteen.”
“Yes.”
“Who were your parents?”
Claire answered.
“Richard and Helen Westwood.”
Vale closed his eyes.
“Richard worked for Harcourt.”
Nathan frowned.
“What?”
Claire stared.
“My father was an accountant.”
“For Harcourt Foundation.”
Nathan’s stomach tightened.
Vale continued.
“He discovered early Aster transfers.”
Nathan understood.
Amelia’s family had been connected long before Nathan met her.
Perhaps their meeting had not been coincidence.
“What happened?”
Vale swallowed.
“Richard owed money.”
“Simon helped him.”
Nathan closed his eyes.
Of course.
“And in exchange?”
“I don’t know.”
“Stop saying that.”
Vale looked toward Claire.
“But I remember Simon mentioning a baby.”
Claire whispered.
“What did he say?”
Vale’s face twisted.
“That some families pay debts with money.”
“And some with futures.”
Nathan felt sick.
If Amelia’s first child lived, that person would now be an adult.
Around seventeen or eighteen, depending on dates.
Simon left the forged certificate intentionally.
He wanted Nathan to discover the child existed.
Why?
Leverage again.
Or bait.
Nathan looked at Bennett.
“He wants us searching.”
“Probably.”
“Which means he wants us away from something else.”
Bennett nodded.
Nathan thought of every active location.
Jamie safe.
Lily safe.
Eleanor jailed.
Adrian jailed.
Vale in France.
Thomas protected.
Claire protected.
Company headquarters.
Then Nora entered the room.
Her face was pale.
“Nathan.”
He turned.
“What?”
“Jamie’s gone.”
Everything inside him stopped.
“What?”
Nora’s voice broke.
“He was with two officers.”
Nathan could not breathe.
“What happened?”
“They received an evacuation alert.”
Nathan grabbed the table.
“No.”
“The fire alarm.”
Again.
Same method as the study.
“Where are the officers?”
“One was found in the stairwell.”
“The other is missing.”
Nathan’s vision narrowed.
“Jamie?”
Nora began crying.
“Gone.”
Nathan stared toward the man in custody.
Michael.
Or Simon.
Whoever he was, he smiled through the interview-room glass.
Then his phone rang.
The detainee’s confiscated phone.
Impossible.
Bennett stared.
A message appeared on the lock screen.
BROTHER, YOU ALWAYS DID LIKE DISTRACTIONS.
Nathan’s blood froze.
A second message appeared.
I HAVE THE BOY.
And a third.
May you like
COME FINISH WHAT AMELIA STARTED.
---
