He watched Edward over the rim of his sunglasses, waiting until the man had crossed the invisible line that meant he would be save befoe he pressed the button on his cellphone, a grim, manic smile crossing his lips as the good doctor's office exploded in a shower of glass and brick work, the bomb attached to, coincidently enough, Edward's section of the filing cabinet obliterating Doctor Porter as the man tried to put the file away.
Jonathan drained the last of his coffee, casually making his way through the crowd, the sunlight glinting off the auburn streaks in his hair. He hummed, making a chastising sound as he looked up at the smoke and fire, water shooting out from ruined pipes.
"Shame what consorting with 'reformed' criminals will get you," he said, not looking at Edward.