Little did Ben know at that moment that something was soon set to happen which would push his personal worries to the far back of his mind for a long time to come, and perhaps for good. Because real trouble, the kind of trouble he’d been born to deal with, was lurking just around the corner. And if any reminder were needed of what his life’s purpose really was, then he was about to get one.

Chapter 3

After returning from his walk, he was climbing the short flight of steps to the front door of the house and thinking about preparing a light lunch when he heard the phone ringing from the office building across the yard. Since Jeff was presumably still glued to his sick bed in front of the television and there was nobody else around, he went over to answer the call himself.

In truth the office wasn’t Ben’s most favourite part of Le Val, its crowded desks, swivel chairs and filing cabinets uncomfortably synonymous in his mind with the torture of filling out tax returns, poring over accounts, wrangling with insurance companies, and all of the other mind-numbing paperwork and administrative chores that regrettably went with running a business. Another reason for wanting out of it, he thought darkly to himself as he walked into the empty office, snatched up the phone and said, ‘Le Val. Can I help you?’

The line was crackly, as though the call was long-distance, although in this day and age of substandard mobile communications you could never be too sure. After a moment’s hesitation the unfamiliar caller’s voice on the line stammered, ‘Uh, w-would it be possible to speak to, uh, somebody there called Ben? I’m sorry, that’s the only name I have.’

It was a man’s voice, but soft in tone and short on confidence. The stranger spoke very fast with a jerky, nervy, quick-fire delivery and a nasal, twangy accent that Ben could pinpoint to the US west coast. Ben could picture him as tall and beaky, with glasses. Perhaps not the typical kind of prospective client at Le Val.

‘This is Ben Hope,’ he replied. ‘May I ask who’s calling?’

‘Thank God,’ replied the caller, with a sigh of relief. Ben heard him cup the phone handset and call out in a muffled voice to someone else, ‘It’s him. We found him!’ Then collecting himself the stranger said, ‘Uh, Mr Hope, my name is Linus Twigg, and I’m calling you from San Diego.’