The King's Deception

“Because I have been in love. And I have broken a heart and had my own broken. Never, ever, is it only one person’s fault.”

He considered what she said and realized he may have hurt her feelings. “I’m sorry.”

She smiled. “For what?”

“You’re just trying to help.”

“And not doing a good job at it.”

He heard the metal door open at the other end of the warehouse and saw Antrim reentering.

“I still need to talk to my mom,” he said again, his voice low.

“What will you say to her?”

He thought about that question, along with all of the conflict from the past couple of weeks, especially his mother’s unbending position that she would never reveal a thing.

“I don’t know.”

* * *

Ian had watched as Antrim finished his call and replaced the phone in his jacket pocket. Right side. Loose fitting. Perfect opportunity. He retreated to the toilet and waited until he heard the outer metal door open. He then exited, turned, and trotted back toward where Miss Mary and Gary stood.

Following Antrim.

He closed fast.

Five meters.

Two.

Antrim stopped and turned.

He bumped into the American, his right hand slipping into the jacket pocket and finding the phone.

He withdrew his hand.

All in a split second.

“Sorry about that,” he said, adding his usual sheepish look. “I didn’t see you.”

Antrim smiled. “It’s okay.”

He dropped the hand with the phone to his side and used his leg to shield it until Antrim turned back around. He then slipped the phone into his back pocket and hoped it didn’t ring. He’d have a tough time explaining why he stole it.

He kept pace with the American back across the warehouse.

“I have to go out,” Antrim said. “Gary, would you like to come with me?”

“Sure.”

Ian caught the look on Miss Mary’s face. One that said she did not agree with Gary’s decision, and that she knew what Ian had just done.

Yet she said nothing.

Which told him plenty.

“You two stay inside and you’ll be fine,” Antrim said. “We’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

He watched as Gary and Antrim headed for the exit door.

He stepped close to Miss Mary.

“I daresay,” she whispered, “he could not care less what happens to us.”

He agreed.

“What did you steal?”

He withdrew the phone.

She smiled. “Brilliant.”

Forty-four

Malone stared as Kathleen Richards disappeared off the brick wall. Tanya was speeding the boat away, turning at a crook in the river, a long stretch of trees and grass now between them and Hampton Court Palace. If those men in the tunnel had come to kill him, had they also come to kill Richards? He’d set her up to see where she stood and she’d made her choice. But he wondered. Was that really her choice?

“I need to go back,” he told Tanya, who sat at the stern, gripping the outboard’s throttle.

“You think she might be in danger?”

“I don’t know. But I have to find out.”

He spied a golf course on the palace-side bank. The only course in England set within a royal park. He’d played it once long ago. He motioned and Tanya motored to shore and idled the outboard.

He faced her. “They’ll identify you quickly. You can’t go home.”

“I wasn’t planning to. I thought I would visit Mary.”

“She’s hidden away. What’s your favorite London hotel?”

“Oh, my. There are so many I am partial toward. But my favorite is The Goring, in Belgravia, near Buckingham Palace. Such elegance.”

“Go there and book a room. Whatever you want.”

Her eyes came alive. “What a wonderful notion. What am I to do with this room?”

“Stay in it, until I come for you. If the hotel is booked out, stay in the lounge until I get there.”

“They might not appreciate that.”

He smiled. “Order food. They won’t care then. If I have a problem, I’ll call the front desk and leave a message.” He reached into his pocket and found the flash drive. “Take this with you.”

“Is this what Mary read?”

He nodded. “I’m counting on you to keep it safe.”

“And I shall, Mr. Malone.”

“Get off this river quick.”

“Just ahead. I’ll leave my boat and find a taxi.”

“You have money?”

“I am quite well off, thank you,” she said. “Fully capable.”

He had no doubt this woman could handle herself. She’d proven that. He hopped onto shore. The gun was still wedged in the crook of his back, beneath his jacket, its presence reassuring.

“Use cash,” he said. “And stay put. Don’t leave until I get there.”

“I can follow directions. Just you don’t go and get yourself hurt.”

He wasn’t planning on it. But he also wasn’t betting against it.

Tanya engaged the throttle and glided the boat back out into the Thames. He watched as the motor’s growl faded downstream.

A wide graveled path fronted the river. On its far side he spotted a tuft-grass fairway and headed toward it. Copses of oak framed the edges. He recalled the links feel to the course, with its undulating terrain and contoured greens framed by deep bunkers. He spotted a few players and some deer roaming, but kept moving toward the palace, about six hundred yards away.