The King's Deception

She maneuvered across the brown water, away from the palace. They were approaching another concrete dock, where two large boats were tied. He spotted a woman, standing atop the same brick wall that wound its way around to the Banqueting House. She stood where the iron fence that separated the gardens from the water ended and the high wall began.

Kathleen Richards.

Another woman, along with two men, stood to her right.

All held guns.

Richards was yanked down.

Tanya saw it, too.

“It seems Miss Richards has found some bother.”

No question.

And, considering what just happened in that tunnel, he may have been totally wrong about her.

Part Four

Forty-three

Antrim was becoming more agitated the longer the conversation progressed. The same gravelly voice from Daedalus had answered his call and seemed to be enjoying the situation.

“Did you hear me?” he said into the phone. “The friggin’ head of MI6 is involved in this. He killed Farrow Curry, not you.”

“I heard you, Mr. Antrim. I simply choose not to believe what a street brat has told you. I know what occurred. We ordered it done.”

“Kathleen Richards is SOCA. I know her. What the hell is she doing involved? Did you know about that, too?”

“That is new information. But I hardly see a problem. Everything is about to end. You will have your money and be gone before dawn.”

You got that right. Sooner the better.

“If Thomas Mathews is involved here,” the voice said, “he could have been deceiving his listener with misinformation.”

True. But there was still the matter of Cotton Malone.

“What happened at Hampton Court?”

“I am awaiting word on that right now. The last I was told, Mr. Malone was being herded to a favorable spot where he would be eliminated. All was progressing without a problem.”

“I need to know when that happens.”

“What’s your interest in Malone?”

“I don’t have one. You do. He read the drive. He knows things. He’s your problem, not mine.”

“I truly doubt that. You are not an honest man.”

“Like I care about your opinion of me. You murder people. You can believe it or not, but MI6 is in this. That means containment is going to be a big problem. Your problem.”

“Yours, too. Once known, I imagine your superiors will be wondering what you are truly up to.”

“Which means this whole thing will blow up and you can kiss your little secret goodbye.”

Silence on the other end signaled that he was right.

“Do you have Ian Dunne in your custody?” the voice asked.

“Safe and sound.”

“Keep him there. In the meantime we need to speak, in person.”

Like he was going to do that. He wasn’t an idiot. He’d already realized that the safest course for Daedalus now would be to simply kill him, too.

“Not going to happen.”

The voice on the end chuckled. “I thought that request would concern you.”

He remained silent.

“All right, Mr. Antrim, to soothe your fears we’ll meet in a public place. One with security, so you might feel more at ease.”

“Why do we need to meet?”

“Because there is something you must see. And, look at it this way, you have Ian Dunne. He’s your security. I’m sure you’re about to hide him away in a spot only you know. He will be your insurance.”

“Why do you want the boy? It’s the flash drive you want.”

“He’s a witness to a death, and we detest loose ends.”

Made sense.

Unfortunately, he was out of men at the moment, so he’d take Gary with him and leave Dunne and the woman in the warehouse.

A location Daedalus knew.

So what? Who cared?

Both of them dead and gone would be preferable.

A harsh reality hit home.

Daedalus was the only friend he had left.

“Name the place.”

* * *

Gary stood with Miss Mary.

“You look troubled,” she said to him.

“I need to speak with my mom or dad.”

He knew this woman carried a cell phone. She’d taken a call last night.

She laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I was told not to use my phone again. We have to respect their wishes.” She paused. “How difficult is this?”

“More than I thought it would be.”

She pointed at the artifacts. “Mr. Antrim’s stealing of all this makes me wonder about him.”

“He’s a spy. Sometimes you just have to do things. I had to do things a month ago.”

“Bad things?”

He nodded. “I saved a friend’s life.”

“That was quite brave.”

He shrugged. “I just reacted. He was in danger.”

“You know little to nothing of this man who says he is your birth father. And you seem so like the man who raised you as a father.”

“How do you know my dad?”

“I don’t. I only know what I saw last night. He is a brave soul.”

Yes, he was.

“Take this slow,” she said. “Don’t be rushed. A lot of truth is coming toward you. Our brains can only absorb so much, so fast. Be careful.”

She seemed sincere, which reminded him even more of his grandmother, whom he also wished was near.

“My mother could set it all straight,” he said.

Miss Mary nodded. “And it’s her job to do that.”

“She made this mess.”

“You have no idea what happened all those years ago.”

“Have you ever been married?”

She shook her head.

“Then how would you know?”