CHAPTER ONE
Jacob Hamilton always hated open spaces, yet he wasn’t agoraphobic, he was just smart. The station on Boston’s Rockport line was the perfect meeting place for a man whose profession was as shady as the surroundings he kept. It was dark, poorly lit and scary for the uninitiated, not a place you’d want to be on your own. He’d been there half an hour before the agreed meeting time of 7:25pm. For him it was nothing untoward, it was just an obligatory common practice to be early. Employment in his chosen profession was nothing he’d taken lightly, but when he announced his decision to enter the family business they welcomed him with open arms. Prep school in London had done little to prepare him for the cut throat world he entered, neither did the three years military service, in fact it was his parents who finished his schooling for him.
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