Prologue / 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17 / 18 / 19 / 20 / 21 / 22 / 23 / 24 / 25
/ 26 / 27 / 28 / 29 / 30 / 31 / 32 / 33 / 34 / 35 / 36 / 37 / 38 / 39 / 40 / Epilogue

PROLOGUE
 
 

Manchester, Late Fall 

ON A COLD, GREY AND RAINY OCTOBER DAY AT a cemetery on the outskirts of Manchester a crowd clad in dark rain coats sheltered by scores of umbrellas, gathered to pay their last respects to a well respected man, cut down in the prime of his life: A former rockstar and later a formidable name in the music business when he had given up performing and became a record producer. But in the last few years he taken time out from record production to manage the phenomenally successful career of Jenny Devereaux, who incidentally had given her farewell performance last week.

Out on the rain swept street among the line of vehicles, from the half rolled down dark tinted window of a limousine, a man watched the funeral. His face was swathed in bandages and he wore a dark custom-made pin-stripe suit and black top hat.

They were attending his funeral.

After the service was over and people began to disperse, he watched Carolyn, his stepsister, approach and enter the white Bentley that Lance Stevens and Jenny Devereaux had arrived in. However, Lance and Jenny lingered a little longer at the gravestone of Richard Carlyle. He could almost guess what was going through Jenny's mind. Lance, he didn't want to think
about. 

 Little did she know. Ol Dickie's been given a third chance. He mused. Mark Hammond also approached, joined him in the limo, and gave the driver the signal to leave.