that any child of the monarch is eligible to inherit the throne. The child does not need to be from our marriage, he can be from a previous marriage, his or mine. The law here states that when two people marry, their family becomes as one, including children that come from either the man or the wife, even though such children were not from a marriage. Amhad and I have been married but once and to each other. You are most certainly wondering why I am telling you all of this when we have been apart for so long.
Richard, you were my first experience in lovemaking, and I will remember that forever. A few months after you returned to America, I found that I was with your child. You must understand that this is very bad for a young Catholic girl in France since we were not married. On May 9, 1951, our twin sons were born and I named them Charles and robert. I had not worked for several months before the babies and could not raise them myself. I sent them to the orphanage of the Sisters of Mercy in Giverny. Soon they were adopted to separate families and, over the years, I have kept in contact with the orphanage and had them send money from me to their parents. But I do not know where they live and what their last names are. They would be thirty-six years of age today.
There is trouble I fear, and I must ask you to help. General Answa Talon is the head of the military here in Khatamori and that is but like a police chief to regulate violators of our country’s laws, mostly small crimes. Since Amhad’s ill health, Talon has begun an investigation to verify that there are no living heirs to the throne, a position that he will get if there are no children to succeed Ahmad. I am not certain if he knows about Charles and robert, but if he does, he will surely do anything to kill them before allowing either of them to accept their rightful place in my kingdom. I am forbidden from leaving the country without Amhad, that is the law, and I have sent this letter to you in the hands of my most trusted servant.
Richard, I should have told you about the boys years ago, but did not want you to worry about them or me. I do not know what you can do but any help is needed. I fear Amhad may not live until June of the coming year, so I have been told.
Françoise
“I need you to find my sons, Mr. Howard,” blurted Father Dick. “I need to be sure they are safe and remain safe but I don’t have a clue how to do this and, at my age, I can’t move around like I used to. I’ve saved over one hundred thousand dollars and I can get more from an old trust fund my mother had set up for me years ago. Can you help?”
Jim Howard had lived a strange life since being discharged from the Army following Vietnam. For a short time, he had served with the CIA as an undercover agent in Europe keeping tabs on Russian activity in the area just after the Bay of Pigs incident and Cuban blockade. His CIA service, combined with his former military years was enough for him to take a government pension in 1985. Bored to death, he took to selling insurance just to keep himself busy. Howard had never married and the steel plate in his right leg, a reminder of Vietnam, kept him from doing much more, even at the young age of forty-five.
“What exactly do you want to do once someone finds them, Father, or at least finds out where they live?”
“I’ll figure that out when they’re found. Right now, I need to find them first.”
“Let me see what I can do, Father, and I’ll get back to you.”
Howard still had contacts in Europe who, when they left the military together and did operative work, could be trusted to do this, and some of these contacts were in France. Jim left the rectory and informed Father Dick that he would know pretty quickly if his contacts were still active and what the cost would be to locate them. Jim indicated that there wasn’t much he could do beyond that.
Father Dick thanked Howard for his time and asked him to not use his name with
Richard, you were my first experience in lovemaking, and I will remember that forever. A few months after you returned to America, I found that I was with your child. You must understand that this is very bad for a young Catholic girl in France since we were not married. On May 9, 1951, our twin sons were born and I named them Charles and robert. I had not worked for several months before the babies and could not raise them myself. I sent them to the orphanage of the Sisters of Mercy in Giverny. Soon they were adopted to separate families and, over the years, I have kept in contact with the orphanage and had them send money from me to their parents. But I do not know where they live and what their last names are. They would be thirty-six years of age today.
There is trouble I fear, and I must ask you to help. General Answa Talon is the head of the military here in Khatamori and that is but like a police chief to regulate violators of our country’s laws, mostly small crimes. Since Amhad’s ill health, Talon has begun an investigation to verify that there are no living heirs to the throne, a position that he will get if there are no children to succeed Ahmad. I am not certain if he knows about Charles and robert, but if he does, he will surely do anything to kill them before allowing either of them to accept their rightful place in my kingdom. I am forbidden from leaving the country without Amhad, that is the law, and I have sent this letter to you in the hands of my most trusted servant.
Richard, I should have told you about the boys years ago, but did not want you to worry about them or me. I do not know what you can do but any help is needed. I fear Amhad may not live until June of the coming year, so I have been told.
Françoise
“I need you to find my sons, Mr. Howard,” blurted Father Dick. “I need to be sure they are safe and remain safe but I don’t have a clue how to do this and, at my age, I can’t move around like I used to. I’ve saved over one hundred thousand dollars and I can get more from an old trust fund my mother had set up for me years ago. Can you help?”
Jim Howard had lived a strange life since being discharged from the Army following Vietnam. For a short time, he had served with the CIA as an undercover agent in Europe keeping tabs on Russian activity in the area just after the Bay of Pigs incident and Cuban blockade. His CIA service, combined with his former military years was enough for him to take a government pension in 1985. Bored to death, he took to selling insurance just to keep himself busy. Howard had never married and the steel plate in his right leg, a reminder of Vietnam, kept him from doing much more, even at the young age of forty-five.
“What exactly do you want to do once someone finds them, Father, or at least finds out where they live?”
“I’ll figure that out when they’re found. Right now, I need to find them first.”
“Let me see what I can do, Father, and I’ll get back to you.”
Howard still had contacts in Europe who, when they left the military together and did operative work, could be trusted to do this, and some of these contacts were in France. Jim left the rectory and informed Father Dick that he would know pretty quickly if his contacts were still active and what the cost would be to locate them. Jim indicated that there wasn’t much he could do beyond that.
Father Dick thanked Howard for his time and asked him to not use his name with
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