The Adept Book 3 The Templar Treasure Read Online Free PDF Page B

was twenty-three miles back to York. On the way, Phipps briefed them on the essentials of the case to date. The police car pulled up at the main entrance to York District Hospital shortly before six o’clock. As Adam prepared to get out, Phipps produced a business card from his breast pocket and scribbled some numbers on the back.
    “I expect you’ll want to be here for a while,” Phipps said, handing the card to Adam. “This is the extension at my office, and the other one is my home number. Noel and I will pick up a bite to eat on the way to headquarters, but then we’ll be at this number or thereabouts for the rest of the evening. If it gets too late, we may come to check on you. Incidentally, you’re both welcome to stay at my place, if you haven’t made other arrangements.”
    “Thank you,” Adam said with a nod. “I’m not sure sleep is in the cards for me tonight, but I’ll try to give you a call later this evening, when I know more. See you later, Noel.”
    Once inside the building, Adam made his way up to the intensive-care unit. The sister in charge of the ward greeted him with an air of reservation at first, but her manner thawed at once when he produced one of his business cards listing his credentials.
    He skimmed over Nathan’s chart with growing dismay, returning it with a word of thanks. He was just turning to go into the ICU when a tenor voice hailed him from farther up the corridor.
    “Is that Sir Adam Sinclair? Oh, thank God you’re here!” The speaker was Nathan’s elder son, Peter, a muscular, dark young man in his mid-thirties, wearing an impeccably cut grey pin-striped suit and round horn-rimmed glasses that made him look studious. After graduating with a first-class law degree from Oxford, Peter Fiennes had gone to work for one of the most prestigious corporation legal firms in London and quickly earned his barrister’s credentials. Recent rumor had it that he soon would take silk as a Queen’s Counsel. At the moment, however, little in his manner suggested the cool, levelheaded barrister. Instead, he looked tense and grief-stricken and far younger than he was—a man already in mourning for a father whose grasp on life was growing weaker with every passing hour.
    He hurried forward to clasp the hand that Adam held out to him, allowing himself to be drawn briefly into an embrace of commiseration. Feeling the tremor in the younger man’s shoulders and hand, Adam said quietly, as they drew apart, “Peter, I can’t tell you how sorry I am that this should have happened. Naturally, I came as quickly as I could. How’s your mother holding up?”
    Peter shrugged and shook his head. “She’s exhausted; I don’t think she’s gotten more than an hour or two of sleep while Dad was in surgery early this morning. He’s always meant the world to her. Right now, all she can think about is that she’s losing him. And there doesn’t seem to be anything anyone can do about it.”
    “Peter, I’m so sorry,” Adam repeated. “How about your brother? Have you gotten through to him?”
    Peter nodded. “He’ll be in a few hours. He’s flying in from Tel Aviv. The orchestra’s getting ready to go on tour, but they drafted the second flute to move up to first. She’s thrilled at the chance, but sorry for the circumstances, of course—a really nice girl. I hope Larry marries her. Anyway, that means that he’ll be able stay as long as—as he has to.”
    “As will I,” Adam said quietly. “As long as I’m needed. Where’s your mother just now?”
    “Keeping watch over Dad,” Peter said, gesturing with his chin toward the glass-windowed double doors. “She’s hardly left his side since he came back from surgery. Come with me and I’ll take you to her.”
    The intensive-care unit, like most facilities of its type, was a gleaming, antiseptic wilderness of light-panels, consoles, and life-support installations. Several of the other patients confined there had relatives in