While Gemma and Brett were standing and talking, a limousine drove up. It stopped where the crew was chatting, and a chauffeur in a peaked cap got out, and then opened a door at the rear of the vehicle.
The man who got out was Si Roper, a well-known figure in the entertainment industry. He was middle-aged and had a dignified look about him, but his expression was domineering. Moments later, Timothy's car arrived.
Without stopping to greet Brett and Gemma, Si stepped forward and said, "It's Timothy, isn't it? Hello. I'm Si Roper. How is your brother?"
Timothy recognized the famous man, and for a moment, he was lost for words. "Oh, er… right, yes," he stammered. "My brother is very well, thank you."
In Baltimore, Si was an important man, and he was often referred to in the media as the godfather of entertainment, as he had influence in the fields of film, television, and music.
Si had met Brian at a recent charity function. Brian was a new face among Baltimore's wealthy citizens and was keen to meet the movers and shakers in the city.
Alex stood there, taking everything in. He didn't know what was going on yet, so he listened to the conversations taking place around him.
Gemma and Si were having an argument.
"Si, what are you talking about?" Gemma demanded. "Are you suggesting it was my daughter who was careless? That's ridiculous. Who's going to take responsibility for what's happened to her? Brett's trying to act as if it has nothing to do with him, and I won't stand for it. I want answers."
Si refused to acknowledge that Gemma had a right to know anything and tried to ignore her questions, but she was persistent.
Alex frowned. Like Gemma, he felt angry and helpless about the situation. Both Si and Brett were trying to blame Cassidy for the accident, avoiding any suggestion that they should take responsibility. Something felt very wrong about the whole setup. Could someone have deliberately tampered with the rope?
Alex walked over and stared intently at Si as if the answers might be written on his face. Si felt threatened by Alex's physical presence and wondered who he was and how he fitted into the situation. He seemed to know Timothy, which made him a little uneasy.
Having thought it through, Si decided he didn't want to provoke any confrontation with Alex, so he turned and walked over to the nearby catering van and got a cup of tea. He added milk, and then he sat down and sipped it.
Then he took his cell phone out of his pocket, made a call, and then spoke quietly. "Yeah, it's me. I want you to put the word out to prevent Cassidy Pike from working in the entertainment industry again. Anyone who employs her will find themselves an enemy of Si Roper."
He listened for a moment, and then he spoke again. "I don't care about Brian. I'm not afraid of him."
Despite his confident words, Si was dissatisfied because he had argued with too many people.
Deciding that he would not find out any more for the moment, Alex took Cassidy back to the Woodside Clinic. After treating her injuries, he left her to recover in peace.
He took out his cell phone and sent a message. Dealing with tough characters like Si needed firm action.
***
The next morning, Si got up early. He hadn't slept well at all because of a feeling of unease. He tried to put his finger on what was making him feel unsettled and decided that it was the whole situation surrounding Cassidy.
He checked his watch, decided it was time for breakfast, and went downstairs. After eating, he directed his chauffeur to take him to the Watergate Center.
The previous day, Si had deliberately downplayed what had happened to Cassidy, but it still needed to be dealt with properly. He had called a meeting of the senior executives, but as they sat around the polished boardroom table, their phones started ringing, one after another.
Snippets of conversations came to Si from around the table. "What? Thirty-six of our top artists want to terminate their contracts?"
"You can't be serious! Who has spread this appalling gossip? There was no deliberate attempt at murder on set… Of course there wasn't."
"What's that? Cast members are what? Oh, they're demanding a full-scale investigation before they'll come back to work, are they?"
"All twelve of the new projects being applied for by Stardust Films have been rejected?"
"For the rest of this month, every concert that we had scheduled has been canceled by local authorities?"
"Sorry, did I hear that correctly? Did you say our advertisers are also threatening to break their contracts?"
Within minutes of sitting down, the senior executives had all received devastating news, any of which could undermine the future of Stardust Films and the Watergate Center.
Si's hand shook as he tried to lift his teacup to his mouth. These issues all coming at once could not be a coincidence. Had Alex somehow arranged all of this?
Is he capable of orchestrating this? he thought.
He didn't want to believe it was possible, but he couldn't think of anyone else it could be.
During the next ten minutes, more bad news came in. Not only did the group suffer heavy financial losses, but many contacts also distanced themselves.
In short, the reputation of both Si and the Watergate Center had plummeted.
He closed his eyes in thought, and then he got up, leaving the senior executives to deal with the current crisis while he went to his office, opened the safe, and took out some rolled-up paintings.
Then he called for his car. When the chauffeur brought it round, Si went downstairs, got into the car, and told the chauffeur to drive, calling out directions until they came to a building decorated with golden glass.
It was a blue mansion, artistically designed and carefully maintained, but Si didn't stop to appreciate its elegance. He greeted the security staff and the receptionist at the front desk, and then he took the elevator to the thirty-eighth floor.
The thirty-eight floor was the sky garden, and the lush vegetation and flowers had been thoughtfully planted to make the most of the panoramic view.
In the middle of the open garden was a big marble table, behind which stood Crispin Thomas.
When Si arrived, Crispin was painting at an easel, sketching outline strokes for a watercolor of some of the flowers in front of him.
Si didn't speak but stood quietly beside him, waiting for the middle-aged man to stop working.
Almost fifteen minutes later, Crispin stopped painting and then took a towel from a servant who had been hovering behind the men. He wiped his hands meticulously before returning the used towel.
"Si, have a heart," he said. "I've only been back one night, yet here you are, asking to see me."
His tone had been polite, but he kept his gaze trained on the view and didn't deign to look in Si's direction.
Si spoke respectfully. "I apologize for disturbing you. Crispin, I recently purchased some very desirable artwork, and I've brought some with me to show you." He produced the rolled-up paintings and held them out to the other man.
Crispin motioned him to put the artwork on the table. He didn't look at them, but said, "My time is precious. If you have something to say, please just say it."
"Crispin, I came here to ask for help," Si said. "I seem to have angered a powerful man." He exhaled slowly. "And now the Watergate Center has encountered an unprecedented crisis."
"Crisis? What kind of crisis?" asked Crispin. "What's going on? Who is this man you have provoked?"
"He has something to do with Brian, I think," Si replied. "But I've been careless. I forgot to check everybody's details, so I haven't gotten any background information on him yet. I've asked my people to check him out, and the details will be with me in a matter of hours."
Crispin rolled his eyes. He took a piece of paper from a drawer below the table and a pen from his shirt pocket.
He wrote one word on the piece of paper.
"Stop!"