The Starting Gate Affair - part 6

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

By the time Napoleon arrived at Harewood Farms he had been informed that Sturgess Harewood’s personal physician was attending to Illya.  The worried agent was escorted upstairs to an opulent bedroom suite normally reserved for notable guests and family.  Sturgess was shocked when his two men brought the slight Russian in from the truck, sorry that the attack had taken place on his property.  He was adamant that the man would be cared for properly, not relegated to the stables and his small room there.

Upon entering the house, Napoleon had taken note of the marble floors in the entry and the richly textured furnishings beyond.  In spite of its country setting, this house was a reflection of great wealth and refined tastes. 

A wide stairway to the left side of the foyer was indicated, and Napoleon ascended with a mixture of awe and trepidation.  He didn’t know the extent of Illya’s injuries, and he feared the worst.

Napoleon broached the doorway cautiously, his concern waging a war with his outrage that his friend was possibly laying there because of the THRUSH he had spotted earlier in the day.  Illya hadn’t thought he was recognized, and yet there was no other explanation for this attack.

The agent addressed Harewood with as much control as he could muster.

“Sturgess, I came as soon as I got word.  How is my jockey?”

Harewood understood that the ruse was still on, just in case there was a leak somewhere here in his own home.

“Ah, Worthington, I’m glad you’re here.  I’m afraid Kuryakin is rather the worse for this unpleasantness.  My men found him in the creek that runs alongside the drive onto the farm, seems he was ambushed and beaten. Rather severely.  My physician is in with him now… he’s in good hands.”

Harewood’s voice was full of sympathy as he considered the anxiety in the younger man’s eyes.  Even these worldly men who fought a hidden war were prone to the same human emotions everyone faced.  It was evident to Sturgess that Solo was concerned about his partner.

Napoleon sensed the compassion, was glad for it in any case.  Not that it would help Illya, but it did soothe his own emotions somewhat.

“Thank you, for your kindness and help in this matter…’

Napoleon heaved a sigh that betrayed his concerns and, if he could admit it, his fears.

“Do you have any idea who did this to Illya?  I understand you had some visitors out here today, perhaps one of them…”

Harewood understood who was meant by that, and his own investigation into Anthony Decker’s involvement with Ian Parker was already underway.  Alexander Waverly had notified him of Parker’s association with THRUSH as soon as he had heard from Solo.  All avenues were open, it seemed, and information was beginning to flow.

What good was all of this money if you couldn’t buy information, the most desirable commodity in the world?

The door to the bedroom opened and the doctor emerged, his face not betraying anything to the men who waited for his report.

“Worthington, this is Dr. Arnold Fitzgerald, Dr. Fitzgerald, Worthington Pike.  He is your patient’s employer.”

Dr. Fitzgerald nodded and extended his hand to Napoleon, or Pike, as he would know him for now.  Napoleon wanted to hear the news, needed to know how Illya was.

“Doctor, is he …’

Nodding towards the bed in the interior room…

“… going to be all right?  Is there any serious damage?”

The physician eyed the dark haired younger man in a way that made Napoleon feel like he had done something wrong.  He caught himself looking down, hoping he hadn’t left his trousers unzipped.

“Do you mean to ask if he can still ride?  That young man is so thin, so incredibly… ‘

Fitzgerald stopped, gathered his self-control and set aside his dislike for the rules of thoroughbred racing.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bite your head off.  He will mend, but I don’t recommend that he get on a horse for a week or two.  Give the young man some hearty meals and let him heal up.”

Napoleon was only mildly surprised by the other man’s reaction, it was a little like his own when looking at Illya these days.

“No offense, doctor.  In my defense, I did feed him tonight… crab cakes.  He ate four.”

Fitzgerald smiled, relaxed a little under the engaging demeanor of Worthington Pike.  Perhaps the situation wasn’t as bad as he has surmised.  After all, Sturgess Harewood was a decent man, a friend actually.  It was just that…

“These young men are so emaciated, especially the tall ones like Mr. Kuryakin in there.  He’s too tall for this sport, and his weight is dangerously low.  He must really love horses to be putting himself through this.”

Napoleon knew it wasn’t for the love of horses, but didn’t offer the doctor the truth.

Sturgess was taking all of this in, wishing that there was less intrigue in life, and certainly now that his son-in-law was being implicated as possibly a THRUSH contact.  That just wouldn’t do.

“Arnold, thank you for coming out tonight.  I know it was not a convenient trip for you, but as you can see, this young man needed attention and, well, we didn’t want to have to drive him into the city.  I hope you understand how much I, rather we…’

Harewood nodded towards Napoleon.

“We are very grateful for your attention and care in this matter.  And, Arnold, we would also appreciate it if this remains among just us.  Trespassers onto my property attacked the poor boy, and I’m investigating the circumstances.  It is better if word doesn’t get out about the details… you understand.”

Fitzgerald nodded his agreement.  Blast it all, what could that young man be involved in that would land him in bed looking like that?

“Whatever you say, Sturgess.  I’ll be back tomorrow to check on him.  Keep him in bed, please, at least for the next twenty-four hours or so.  He really does need to rest.’

The doctor turned to go, but as he approached the outer door of the suite he called over his shoulder…

“And feed him, for god’s sake.”

Napoleon and Harewood were left standing, staring after the doctor and his instructions, the younger man debating with himself over whether or not to go and check on his partner, see for himself how much damage had been done.

He didn’t have a chance to make a decision.  The double doors to the bedroom opened and Illya hobbled into the room, his bare torso wrapped in a wide bandage to hold his ribs in place.  There were bruises beginning to color up his face and chest, and his left eye was swollen shut.  The fact that the blond was thinner than normal made Napoleon wince at the sight of his partner, a reaction that was no lost on Sturgess.

“Illya, what are you doing out of bed?  The doctor said…”

Illya tried to emit a derisive snort, but the action caused pain and instead he sucked in a breath to stop the catch in his damaged ribs.

“I do not intend to stay in bed.  What I want is to go out and find the thugs who did this, and I think we can start by locating Ian Parker.”

Sturgess shook his head, amazed at the apparent resilience of the young man who had been brought in here almost in pieces.

“Illya, please go back to bed.  Arnold will have my head if he checks in on you tomorrow and finds that I’ve let you out of the house.  For my sake, son, please get some rest.”

Harewood’s expression showed that he was sincerely concerned, and Napoleon was likewise determined that Illya wasn’t going anywhere.  He definitely was not going out looking for Ian Parker.

Illya, for his part, suddenly felt light headed, enough so that he reckoned that bed was probably a better idea than a manhunt.  At least for now. 

Tomorrow would be an altogether different story.

part 7