Philip knew it was time. The funeral was done, police investigations were in progress and Ellen had disappeared off the face of the earth. Unless they found her – and Philip knew they wouldn’t – they would remain very much in the dark. However, his satisfaction soon turned to dismay as he considered the call he would now have to make.
He had written a list outlining every question or query Felix was likely to bring up. He had it all boxed off and he knew how vital this conversation was going to be – both for his own reputation and for the organisation. Even so, he felt his chances of succeeding were extraordinarily low.
The trouble is, he knew deep down that Felix had never really liked or trusted him. An idea flashed into his head. What he needed was the support of somebody Felix did like and trust. Picking up the phone he dialled the number.
“Pierre old man, it’s Philip. How the devil are you?”
“What, my friend are you after? You do not phone me unless you want something, no?” replied the slightly tetchy accented voice of Pierre Baptiste, the Primogeniture director of the French operation.
“Pierre, I thought we were batting for the same side. I just need to ask a little favour, that’s all.”
“No Philip, not if it’s anything to do with that complete mess you’ve got yourself into over there; you’re on you own.”
“But Pierre, Felix really trusts you. You can persuade him we had nothing to do with... well, you know; what happened to his daughter.”
“Then I would be lying, no? You want me to lie about something like that? I think not. Besides, The Firstborn is, how you say... all over this. Why should I put my head in the Guillotine?”
“Because Pierre, what’s good for me, is good for you.”
“No Philip. You have gone too far. Kidnapping a minor is not on the agenda as far as I am concerned. Allowing her to escape and drown is just plain incompetence. I am having to re-consider my position within the organisation.”
“Ha, you know as well as I do there is no way out. You’re just as stuck as the rest of us.”
“Well we’ll see,” Pierre snapped back before putting the phone down on him.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Philip, muttered under his breath. “What the devil is that man up to?”
Feeling suddenly rather isolated, he picked up the phone again, this time to talk with Andrew.
“Hello, Andrew, Philip.”
“Well, have you done it yet?”
“Just about to. I just thought we’d better go through it. Make certain I’ve got the agenda right.”
“I don’t see that it much matters. He’s never going to believe you.”
“But I thought this was vital to the organisation!”
“It is – which is why I don’t want anything to do with it. I’m already in the doghouse. You seem to be the Firstborns new kid on the block so you can take the rap when it all goes tits-up.”
“Now look here Andrew, I don’t think that’s quite fair...”
“Fair’s got nothing to do with it. Do you think it was fair when Peter got his brains blown out? You’re on your own with this one.”
The phone went dead and Philip gave himself a few moments to calm down and collect his thoughts before dialling Felix’s number.
YOU ARE READING
Primogeniture (The Firstborn)
General Fiction‘Death is very likely the greatest invention of life.’ STEVE JOBS, THE APPLE CORPORATION. For millennia mankind has searched for the elixir of eternal youth. Science has now brought us to the very brink of this search. Advances already predict tha...
