Gary had two fathers.
What was the problem?
He’d caught the caution in Miss Mary’s eyes as she challenged Antrim. She had a bad feeling, too. That was clear. Gary, though, was too absorbed in his own problem to think straight.
That was okay.
He could think for him.
After all, Malone had told him to look after Gary.
“Eventually,” Miss Mary said, “Henry VIII married a Howard, too. Her name was Katherine, and she became his fifth wife. Unfortunately, this Howard was promiscuous and the king had her head chopped off. The Howards never forgave Henry for that, nor did the king forgive them. The Howards began to fall from grace, no longer in favor. Mary Howard’s brother, Henry, the Earl of Surrey, was executed for treason, the last person Henry sent to the block before he died in January 1547.”
“How do you know all this?” Gary asked.
“She reads books,” Ian said.
Miss Mary smiled. “That I do. But this particular subject has always interested me. My sister, especially, is knowledgeable about the Tudors. It seems Mr. Antrim shares our interest.”
“He’s doing his job,” Gary said.
“Really? And what is his great interest in British history? The last I was aware, Great Britain and the United States were close allies. Why is it necessary to be spying here? Holed up in this warehouse? Why not just ask for what you want?”
“Spying is not always that easy. I know. My dad was one for a long time.”
“Your father seems like a decent man,” Miss Mary said. “And, I assure you, he is as perplexed by all of this as I am.”
ANTRIM WAS IN A PANIC.
MI6 had been involved with Farrow Curry’s murder? Which meant they were aware of Operation King’s Deception. Daedalus said they killed Curry. Which meant either they or Ian Dunne lied.
But which one?
And now Cotton Malone was at Hampton Court with Kathleen Richards?
What in the hell was she doing there?
He had to know, so he dispatched both of his agents to immediately find out what was happening.
He stared out into the warehouse to where the woman and the two boys sat among the items that would shortly be destroyed. He was waiting for the call that confirmed Cotton Malone was dead. He’d tell the sad news to Gary himself. Pam would certainly then become involved, but he should be okay. Gary would not allow her to block him out a second time, and there’d be no other father to interfere. The thought of victory made him smile. He’d already alerted his investigator in Atlanta to step up surveillance. Taps on Pam’s phone lines could prove useful in the months ahead. Information was the intelligence operative’s greatest ally. The more the better. And with seven million dollars in the bank, there’d be no worries about financing.
But first things first.
Operation King’s Deception had to end.
As agreed.
GARY WAS BOTHERED BY MISS MARY’S CRITICISM OF ANTRIM. She had no right to say anything negative about him. And though her words seemed carefully chosen, he’d caught her meaning loud and clear.
Are you sure about this man?
As sure as he could be. At least Blake Antrim had not lied to him. Unlike his mother. And Antrim had not hurt his mother. Unlike his father. He still needed to speak with his mother. She wouldn’t like what was happening, but she’d have to accept it. If not, he would follow through on his threat and move to Denmark. Maybe his dad would be more understanding.
“Henry FitzRoy,” Miss Mary said, “and Mary Howard had a child. A boy. He was thirteen when his grandfather, Henry VIII, died in 1547. This boy was thin and pale, with red hair, like the Tudors. But strong and determined, like the Howards.”
“Is this what my dad is looking into?” Gary asked.
“I don’t know. I truly don’t.”
Gary had seen that Antrim was bothered by something. He’d quickly excused himself and hustled back to the office. A few minutes ago the two other agents left the building. Antrim was still inside the office. He needed to talk to him. Movement across the interior caught his attention.
Antrim called out, “I’ll be outside. I have to make a call.”
“Where’s the toilet in this place?” Ian asked.
“Over here. The door right of the window into the office.”
IAN DECIDED TO ACT.
He did not need the toilet. What he needed was to know what Antrim was doing. The American had seemed surprised to learn about the old codger, Mathews, being involved. And even more interested in the SOCA lady. Malone was at Hampton Court? He wondered why. He’d visited there several times, the free-admission courtyards and gardens attracting a horde of tourists with pockets to pick. He also liked the maze. One of its gate handlers had taken a liking to him and allowed him to roam among the tall bushes for free.
He walked toward where Antrim had pointed out the toilet. Then, after a quick glance back to make sure Gary and Miss Mary were talking, their attention not on him, he detoured to the warehouse exit door. Carefully, he turned the knob and eased open the metal slab, just enough to peek out. Antrim was twenty meters away, near another building, a phone to his ear. Too far away to hear anything and too out-in-the-open to approach closer. But it was clear Antrim was agitated. His body stiff, head shaking while he talked.
He closed the door.
And thought about how he might get his hands on that phone.
Forty-two
MALONE GRABBED ONE OF THE FLASHLIGHTS HANGING FROM an aluminum rack, a modern addition to something that was clearly from long ago. He followed Tanya down a brick incline that ended at another tunnel, this one stretching left and right.