Try Begging - Chapter 155.1
“You’ve probably seen my face in the newspapers, so introductions are unnecessary.”
Leon, sitting cross-legged at a worn table, pulled out a cigar.
“Pleasure to meet you, Charles Henderson. No, actually, Jonathan Riddle Junior.”
As he smirked, the man standing across the table clenched his fists. Behind the man, a woman holding a baby trembled, and a toddler clinging to her skirt watched the soldiers searching the house with wide eyes.
In a corner of Redhill Farm, a decrepit workers’ housing, about a dozen soldiers were turning everything inside out. An equal number were conducting searches outside.
The real objective wasn’t to find the woman.
He knew she wasn’t here since surveillance had been in place even before she disappeared. The search had two purposes—to find something that could lead to her and to intimidate Jonathan Riddle Junior’s family.
“Heuk, Joe…”
The woman sobbed, pulling on her husband’s sleeve, seemingly fulfilling the second objective.
“Oh… It seems the Madam is quite startled. Perhaps I should have sent a message before coming.”
As Leon leaned back in his chair with a sneer, Jonathan Riddle’s Junior’s expression twisted.
“Slow. Two months. Grace said it would be a month at most before you stormed in.”
Leon’s hand, as he brought the lit cigar to his lips, paused.
It seemed that that woman had planned her escape in detail from that moment. Before even tasting the cigar, a bitter taste spread in his mouth. He suppressed the bitter regret that he should have caught her the moment she returned to Chesterfield Station.
His teeth dug into the end of the cigar.
“She doesn’t know me as well as she thinks.”
‘…Just as I don’t know her.’
“Campbell.”
With Leon’s glance, Campbell, who had been standing behind him, began reading from the dossier he had been holding.
“Led the raid on the Oakley mail train, attempted to assassinate the king by planting bombs along the parade route for the king’s twentieth coronation anniversary, infiltrated a military unit as a new recruit and then committed arson, forged identification documents and official papers…”
Leon raised his left hand, and the crimes recited halted. He looked at Jonathan Riddle Junior, whose face had turned even more pale, and smiled crookedly.
“You’re not denying it, I see.”
It was inevitable. The list was based on the testimonies of those who had participated in the crimes with him.
“Enough to send you straight to a detention camp.”
The hand of Jonathan’s wife, clutching his sleeve, trembled visibly, and her sobs broke through as Leon added with a smile,
“Oh, and your wife participated in some of these as well…”
Finally, Jonathan Riddle Junior clenched his teeth and gave Leon the response he was seeking.
“If you have questions, I’ll answer them all, just don’t touch my wife and kids.”
Leon nodded at Campbell, signaling him. The soldiers searching the living room and kitchen promptly exited. As they attempted to take the woman and children out, Jonathan blocked their way.
“Don’t worry. I just want a peaceful conversation.”
The house soon quieted down.
Jonathan watched through the window as his family was led away to the farm owner’s house, then reluctantly sat down across from the devil at his insistence.
Leon, having placed a cigar case on the table, offered one to Jonathan, who shook his head in refusal.
Afterward, Winston asked if Jonathan knew the full extent of the cleanup operation. Since he had only heard the stories on the radio and had had no contact with anyone from Blanchard’s side since that day, he couldn’t know.
Jonathan’s expression twisted as he received Winston’s ‘kind’ explanations.
“I still have things to do here.”
D*mn. That was the meaning of those words.
Learning about Grace’s role in the fall of Blackburn, Jonathan lost his words for a moment. He then collected himself to ask.
“So, what exactly do you want to know?”
He already knew what would be asked next… where Grace was hiding. However, the first question Winston threw at him was unexpected.
“What does that woman call you?”
Joe’s brows furrowed in irritation. What was this about?
He answered gruffly,
“Joe.”
“Right, Joe. How were things with your sister?”
Without hesitation, Joe nodded.
“Hmm… Well, if she gave you money to buy Easter gifts, you must have been close.”
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