“Hello?”
“Hamish?”
“Yes.”
“Encode.”
There was some electronic noise, then Hamish came back. “Is that you, Holly?”
“Yes. Something has come up.”
“How can I help?”
“I understand you have a half brother.”
“Mo? Yes.”
“Do you know where he has been for the past thirty days?”
“Yes, he was at my family’s home on the Scottish isle of Murk, south of the Hebrides.”
“For the entire period?”
“Until recently.”
“Do you know where he is now?”
“Yes, he’s at Annabel’s, a London nightclub, sitting right across the table from me. Would you like to speak with him?”
“Ah, no. Was there any break between his time in Scotland and tonight?”
“Only travel time. He arrived by train yesterday.”
“I see.”
“What is your interest in my half brother?” Hamish asked.
“Tell me, is Shazaz a common name?”
“It’s not uncommon, at least, not in the Middle East.”
“Has your brother ever visited the United States?”
“He attended a boys’ school in Virginia for a semester, when he was eight, but he was unhappy there, so he returned to England and completed his education here.”
“Is he an observant Muslim?”
“Yes, but not radically so. I mean, at this moment he is consuming a glass of champagne. I would say he is about as observant as I.”
Holly couldn’t think of anything else to ask. She ended the call and went back to the living room, where people were starting to move into the garden for the buffet dinner, and found the first lady.
Kate listened intently to Holly’s report of her conversation with Hamish. “Well,” she said, “maybe it’s just a coincidence, if the name is not uncommon in the Middle East.”
“I remember that Hamish’s mother’s family has a home—a castle, I think—on a Scottish island,” Holly said.
“Yes, that’s correct.” She was quiet for a moment, looking up at the stars, then she turned back to Holly. “May I borrow your agency phone?” she asked. She walked away toward the light coming from the living room, dialed a number, and spoke to someone.
—