The King's Deception

“Would you like to know?”

* * *

Kathleen had not spotted Cotton Malone, so she used the moment and embraced the crowd. Hopefully, the information on the sheets she’d obtained would satisfy Mathews. She felt bad about deceiving Malone, but she intended to do her job. Without questions.

She headed away from where they’d entered, deeper into the baroque portions of the palace, and came to what was identified as the Communications Gallery. One wall was lined with windows that overlooked a fountain court, the other was wood-paneled and dotted with doors and oil portraits. Decorative iron posts supported a red velvet rope that prevented visitors from approaching too close to the paintings. Surely there was an exit from the palace if she just kept moving forward.

A quick glance back and she saw a face she recognized.

Eva Pazan.

Back from the dead.

Ten meters away.

A man at her side.

A chill swept through her. Even though she was sure Pazan had not been killed at Jesus College, seeing the woman alive unnerved her.

Was she really part of Daedalus?

Or something else?

Pazan hung back, fifty people in between them admiring the gallery. No effort was made to approach.

Apparently, they were flushing her ahead.

With no choice she kept moving.

At the end of the gallery she decided to buy some time. So she grabbed the last two iron rails, swinging them both around and blocking the path crosswise. The people behind her stopped at the velvet rope, which caused traffic to congeal, her two pursuers trapped at the rear. She caught the quizzical looks, visitors thinking she was someone official and that they could not proceed any farther.

But she didn’t hang around to explain, darting into a doorway and turning left, hustling down what was labeled the Cartoon Gallery. Fifty more people filled the gallery admiring the ambience. She caught sight of a video camera high in the corner at the far end, right of the exit doorway, and realized she was going to have to avoid those.

She heard a shout from behind and saw Pazan and her pal appear twenty meters away. She turned another corner and passed through one elegant room after another, identified as the Queen’s bedchamber, dining room, dressing room, and drawing room.

In the last one she hooked right.

A man blocked her way.

* * *

Malone slipped past the crowd and reentered the Cumberland Suite, finding Tanya Carlton and asking, “What happened?”

“She snatched the papers you gave me and left. Threatened to arrest me.”

He’d wondered what Richards would do, so he’d provided her an opportunity. True, she had the information from the unprotected files but, to his way of thinking, there wasn’t much there.

Nothing at all, in fact.

“You don’t seemed surprised,” Tanya said.

“I’m not.”

“I must say, Mr. Malone, I think you are a bit of a conjurer.”

“Comes from getting burned by dishonest people.”

“What will she do now?”

He shrugged. “Go back where she came from. Or at least we can only hope.”

He had a new problem.

Helping the CIA.

“Mary told me that you and young Ian might have saved that woman’s life,” Tanya said. “Strange way for her to repay the debt.”

“But not unusual in my former line of work.”

“I managed to read the papers before she took them. Nothing there shocking. Not to me, anyway. But I have long been familiar with this legend.”

“Let’s get out of here. I’d like to talk with you some more, but with fewer people around.”

“Then we must see the gardens. They are magnificent. We can have a lovely walk in the sunshine.”

He liked this woman, just as he’d liked her sister.

They exited the Cumberland Suite and returned to the outer gallery, which remained noisy and crowded.

Two men appeared to their right.

Both faces he recognized.

The officers from the bookstore, out of uniform, dressed casually, both of whom appeared not to have forgotten what happened earlier. One had a nasty knot to his left forehead.

“We have a bit of a problem,” he whispered. “Seems there are some people here who would like to detain us.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

“Can you get us out of the building?”

“I worked here for many years as a guide, before being assigned to the gift shop. I know Hampton Court intimately.”

He pointed out the two problems. A small camera hung from the ceiling in one corner of the gallery. He’d seen others throughout. That meant people were watching, and dodging those electronic eyes would be tough.

“Angry-looking chaps,” she said. “Who are these men?”

Excellent question. Probably MI6. “Some type of police.”

“I’ve never been arrested before,” Tanya said.

“It’s not fun, and usually leads to a lot of other bad things.”

“Then it is no bother, Mr. Malone. No bother at all. I can make our escape.”

Forty