"Do you know where Kiwi is?" Frank asked Mark the next morning, while passing him at the foot of the stairs.

"He’s upstairs gassing loudly with Rob," he answered.

Frank took the stairs two at a time towards the room Rob and Kiwi were temporarily using as a bedroom. Mark wasn’t exaggerating, he could hear them talking from half way up the stairs. Knocking on the door, he heard the chatter cease and stuck his head in. "Not interrupting anything am I?" he asked.

"On the contrary, we could do with your input, Mate," said Kiwi.

"Shoot," said Frank, sitting down next to Rob on his bed.

"The guy who picked up the ring yesterday - I think I recognized him from somewhere."

"Where?" snapped Frank, excitedly.

"That’s just it, I can’t remember. It’s almost just a feeling really."

"Well, if you can recall where you saw him, it would be useful."

"Let me work on it," said Kiwi.

"Have you got that license plate number?" Frank asked. "I forgot all about it in the excitement of yesterday.

His New Zealand friend nodded, stretched out his legs and rummaged in his jeans pocket. Pulling out a small, scrunched up old bus ticket, he unfurled it and patted it flat against his knee before handed it across.

"Good one Kiwi! I can only just read it," exclaimed Frank, holding it up gingerly with his thumb and forefinger. "Dare I examine it, for fear of it falling apart?"

"Very funny," Kiwi muttered.

"What was the make and color of the car, can either of you remember?"

"It was red, but as for the make…sorry, Matey, cars ain’t my thing," Kiwi replied.

"A Toyota Celica," said Rob immediately.

***

Frank stole into Alex’s study and switched on the computer, the blue light shone on his face as he watched the computer loading. He soon came up against the challenge of the password. "Not a problem!" he muttered smugly to himself and smiled ruefully. He quickly bypassed the system and the computer finished loading.

"What are you doing?" asked a voice suddenly at his shoulder. He spun the seat round and looked wildly at Mark. "Sorry Frank, didn’t mean to scare you - you were a bit engrossed there."

"Don’t creep about like that," pleaded Frank and turned back to the screen. "I’m trying to find out who owns the car that Rob and Kiwi followed yesterday."

"How you going to do that?" asked Mark, fascinated. He pulled up the other swivel chair and sat down next to his friend.

"You’ll see," Frank replied mysteriously.

He logged into the Internet and quickly set himself up a Hotmail address. He typed a short message and addressed it to a hacker friend he had in London and sent it off. "Give him an hour, and he’ll have the information for us," explained Frank confidently.

"Seriously cool!" nodded Mark.

Kiwi came bursting excitedly through the door. "I just remembered - isn’t this great - I just remembered. That guy who picked up the ring yesterday, I remembered where I saw him before!"

"Slow down Kiwi - where did you see him?"

"At the re-enactors’ fayre, just before we went back into the hall to look for Helen’s gift."

"Are you sure?" asked Frank.

"Oh yeah, positive, he walked into me just by the entrance doors, and we looked right at each other. It could have been Alan, the guy we bought the ring from."

"Could be…" said Frank, "…but let’s not jump to any conclusions. Do you think you’d be able to point him out if you see him later on today at Kenilworth Castle?"

"Yeah, no problem, Mate." He slipped out of the door and then returned almost immediately. "Hey, nearly forgot, breakfast is going to be ready in about ten, you’d better wake Joe up."

"Okay."

Frank went up to their room and found his brother still conked out. Shaking Joe by the shoulder he felt a pang of guilt at having to wake him following the events of the previous day. It took a couple of good nudges to get his brother to respond.

"Chow in ten minutes," he announced, when Joe finally muttered and pushed his hand away.

"Yuck, don’t think I’ll bother thanks," said Joe, not even opening his eyes. He pulled the duvet up over his head.

"Come on Joe, it’ll do you good, you didn’t eat anything yesterday, apart from breakfast."

"Stop mothering me Frank," he snapped in response, his voice muted from under the bedclothes.

Frank was a bit taken aback by his brother’s reaction. "Sorry, I was just worrying about you," he countered defensibly.

"I know - I’ll be down in a little while, go away."

Frank hesitated for a couple of seconds and decided to terminate the conversation. He headed downstairs and entered the dining room, taking his usual place at the table.

Helen looked expectantly at the door, "Joe coming down?" she asked.

"Not sure," he said glumly. "He’s a bit snappy this morning."

"Hardly surprising," said Mark, "Probably the effects of yesterday."

"Maybe…let’s eat, he can have something later"

***

Joe finally put in an appearance three quarters of an hour later. He stepped into the garden and spoke to Frank as though nothing had happened. They exchanged pleasantries and he walked up behind Helen, who was standing with her hands hooked into her back pockets. Rubbing her shoulders, he asked, "how you doing today?"

"More to the point - how are you doing?" she countered, turned round to face him. His eyes immediately strayed down to her chest towards her t-shirt’s V-neck opening. "Hey Mister - don’t be so obvious!" she scolded. "You really should get those teenage hormones into check!"

He colored up, "no, that’s not what I was doing!" he quickly objected. Mark started to laugh loudly. "I just noticed that nasty bruise, did you get that in the car crash?" he asked quickly.

It was Helen’s turn to go red, "erm, no…not exactly," she reply, pulling the two sides of the V neck together self-consciously. "You did that yesterday, in the hallway, when you were thrashing about."

His face took on a guilty expression, "Oh god, I’m really sorry Helen, I don’t remember hitting you."

"Don’t worry about it," she said gently. "It’s not like you were really with it at the time, you didn’t do it on purpose."

"Nevertheless, I must have hit you pretty hard to make a bruise as big as that!"

"Yes, it was the perfect punch!" she agreed and laughed a little. "Now…" she resumed, changing the subject, "breakfast…"

"No thanks, not hungry…"

"Think again!" grabbing him by the wrist she started leading him across the lawn towards the kitchen doorway.

Kiwi, who was standing next to Rob watched as they drew nearer. "Don’t do it Joe," he warned, "she’s a terrible cook!"

As they drew level with Kiwi and Rob, she hooked Kiwi around the waist with her free arm and began pulling him along, backwards. "That’s why you’re going to help me," she said loudly. She paused and then commented to Kiwi in a smaller voice, "I’ve got to learn how to cook for myself, Alex used to do all the cooking and now things have changed. You’re going to have to help me out."

***

They were all sitting around the table, having a meeting to discuss the day’s plans.

Between them, Kiwi and Helen had managed to cajole and force Joe into eating most of his breakfast, but he was still very reserved and not his normal bubbly self. His older brother kept glancing across at him, somewhat perplexed.

Frank went out into the hallway and came back in with the ‘box of tricks’ Bramwell Kyle had obtained for them. He rummaged around and pulled out some tiny earpieces and microphones.

"Hey, these are like those receivers they used in that Wesley Snipes film ‘Blade’," exclaimed Mark excitedly, snatching one up to examine it closely.

The others showed an immense amount of interest at this announcement and joined Mark in picking up the equipment. "Trust you to remember that!" Rob muttered, shaking his head. "You’ve got far too much time on your hands Mark."

Still standing, Frank waited for Joe to join him to co-host the meeting, but his brother showed no sign of getting out of his seat and seemed happy to leave Frank in complete control. He decided to begin alone and started to explain, "as you know, these guys are not playing games, they’re determined to get hold of the ring - no matter who gets hurt in the process. So, Joe and myself have decided to rig everyone up with radio transmitters. This will mean that no matter where we are, we’ll be able to hear each other and speak to each other. That way, if anything should happen, we can be there quickly to help."

Joe made a deep noise in the back of his throat, which Frank read as a sarcastic snort of derision. He turned on him in annoyance, his hands on his hips. "What is your problem with me today Joe?" he asked, his voice slightly raised.

"Nothing! Just clearing my throat," answered Joe, his voice sounding strangled. Raising his hand to indicate he was unable to speak further, he started coughing violently into his fist. "Sorry, just ignore me - tickle in the throat." Rob bashed him on the back, between the shoulder blades.

After the choking noise had abated, Frank continued. "We need to really keep our eyes open, and stay alert. We’ll speak to Blue if he’s at the show and find out if he can remember…" his voice wound down as he was forced to turn his attention to his younger sibling once again. Frank’s eyebrows knitted together as Joe slumped back in his seat and appeared to be falling asleep. "Sorry Bro, are we keeping you awake?" he asked, sarcastically. Rob and Mark who were seated either side of him nudged him simultaneously.

Joe sat upright again and leant forward across the table, supporting his chin on his hand. "Carry on, I’m listening," he said.

Frank sighed loudly, ran his tongue over his front teeth and began again, the tone of his voice sharp and tense - everyone was now shifting uncomfortably in their seats, except Joe. "Blue will need to be questioned to find out about Alan, what he looks like etc. It would be useful if everyone could keep their eyes open for a red Toyota Celica, and the guy who picked up the ring - especially you Kiwi." His eyes fell on the New Zealander, and he realized for the first time that he didn’t appear to be listening either and was studying Joe across the table instead. He looked from Kiwi to his brother to see whether he was pulling faces or something, but he hadn’t moved and appeared to be paying attention - even if his eyes did look a little glazed over.

Kiwi leant forward, "erm, Joe?" he asked, tentatively.

"Yeah?"

"Are you feeling okay mate?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, you look kinda hot, and you’re acting really strange."

"It’s this room, it’s stifling," Joe complained, listlessly.

They all looked at the back door, surprised by Joe’s statement. The door was wide open, providing a cool through breeze.

"Joe, it’s not hot in this room, it’s very pleasant," Helen argued. "It was hot and muggy last night I’ll grant you, but the huge thunderstorm that woke us all up last night has cleared the air."

"What thunderstorm?" asked Joe, puzzled.

"Are you running a temperature?" Frank asked his brother bluntly, noticing for the first time his brother’s wet fringe.

"Nah, you know me Frank, strong as an ox, I never get ill."

Frank didn’t believe him and strode around the other side of the table. Joe arose at the same time and fled in the opposite direction. "Frank, will you leave me alone, we got work to do. We want to get this case wrapped up, don’t we?"

"Not at the expense of anyone’s health," replied Helen.

Frank and Joe managed an entire lap of the room before Kiwi finally got up and stood in Joe’s way, blocking his escape route.

"Hey, come on guys! I’m not ill!" the younger Hardy brother continued to protest loudly, trying to push passed the New Zealander. "I’m just a little zonked still from yesterday."

Kiwi readied himself for a fierce struggle, as he knew Joe was by far the stronger teenager, but the fight was a weak one at best.

Frank finally got a hold of him and put his hand against his forehead. "JOE! YOUR BURNING UP!" he yelled, seriously annoyed.

"It’s just a cold," Joe argued.

"That’s no cold," Kiwi contradicted, "that’s the flu. Everyone’s had it, there’s a bug doing the rounds. We all had it up till last week."

"I can’t have the flu!" wailed Joe. "We got a case to solve, I haven’t got time for the flu!"

"No, correction, we got a crime to solve, you got a bed to get into," His brother countered.

"Come on Frank, gimme a break!"

Frank ignored him.

Mark was thinking quickly, "We could potentially have a serious problem now," he pointed out.

"No, we can deal with things without Joe," assured Frank confidentially.

"But we can’t if you go down with it as well. You’re sharing a room with Joe remember - right in the lion’s den, pal."

"For once, I agree - Mark’s actually right," Rob said.

"Wow, thanks dear brother!"

"I got a suggestion," said Helen, addressing Frank. "Joe can take my room - which is the most comfortable and quietest anyway, I’ll move into Mark’s room, and Mark can share with you."

"Good idea," agreed Frank and turned back to his brother, who was now shivering. "Oh yeah Joe, you are as strong as an Ox - as strong as an Ox with the flu," he snorted. "Come on - upstairs!" Joe wasn’t protesting this time as he was taken from the room.

The doctor was called out as Joe took a considerable turn for the worse in a comparatively short amount of time. He was able to confirm that he had indeed contracted the influenza strain that was ‘doing the rounds’. He suggested that Joe’s recent ‘accidents’ had probably weakened his system and that was why, despite everyone else’s having recovered a good week before, he’d fallen prey. He prescribed bed rest and antibiotics. "Make sure he drinks plenty of fluids," he advised.

They agreed Joe could not be left alone until he was over the worse, so Helen made a quick phone call to Tim, who agreed to shut the shop for the day and come over to keep his eye on the now very sickly patient.

Helen felt somewhat guilty and voiced her fear to the others that he must have contracted the flu from her when they’d slept together two nights previously. She begged Tim to call out the doctor again if Joe should fall any sicker and directed him to the money hidden behind the clock, telling him to make use of it if necessary.