The King's Deception

“And lucky for you the situation has changed. Antrim has involved that ex-American-agent I mentioned to you before. Cotton Malone. He has gone out of his way to draw Malone into this fray. I need you to find out why. As I mentioned, the deciphering of Robert Cecil’s journal is vital to the resolution of this matter. Within the next few hours Antrim may well possess the means to do just that. Tell me, is he capable of capitalizing on his good fortune?”

“He’s not daft, if that’s what you’re asking. But he’s not overly clever, either. More devious and deceitful.”

“Exactly my assessment. His operation has not gone well. He is frustrated. His superiors are pressuring for results. Thankfully, time is short and what he seeks is difficult to find.”

Mathews checked his watch, then stared out into the quad. People hustled back and forth from the street toward the college.

“I want you to travel back to London,” he said. “Immediately.”

“Professor Pazan did not tell me what I need to know. She was on her way back inside to show me more of the coded pages.”

“Nothing was found in the dining hall.”

Why wasn’t she surprised? “Seems everything here is unexplained. I’m not accustomed to working like this.”

“And how many intelligence operations have you worked on?”

Another rebuke, but she had to say, “I’ve handled thousands of investigative cases. Granted, none involved national security, but lives, property, and public safety were at stake. I understand the gravity of situations.”

Mathews leaned on his walking stick, and she noticed again the unique handle.

“That cane is quite unusual.”

“A gift to myself several years ago.” He held up the stick. “A solid piece of ivory carved with the world on its face. I hold it in my hand every day as a reminder of what is at stake with what we do.”

She caught the message.

This is important. Work with me.

“All right, Sir Thomas. No more questions. I’ll head back to London.”

“And I shall arrange for another briefing for you. In the meantime, be alert.”

Twenty-one

Malone found an Internet café not far from Holborn and immediately surveyed the crowd. Mostly middle-aged. Unassuming. Probably lawyers, which made sense as they were not far from the Inns of Court. He purchased time on a desktop and logged in. Ian stayed close and seemed interested, not making any attempt to flee. His phone had yet to ring and he was becoming concerned. He was accustomed to pressure, but things were definitely different when one of your own was at risk. What provided him solace was the fact that the men who had Gary knew the boy was their only bargaining chip.

He inserted the drive.

Three files appeared.

He checked the kilobytes and noticed that they varied, one small, the other two quite large.

He clicked on the smallest first.

Which opened.