“Not a splash, sir, we managed to make it to land.”
Penderley shook his head. “What a cock-up.”
“No, sir, it wasn’t my fault.”
Penderley gave a bark of laughter, shook Nicholas’s hand.
“Of course you remember Special Agent Michaela Caine.”
“Yes, of course.” Penderley shook her hand. “I still remember that hat you wore the day of Elaine’s funeral. Welcome back, Agent Caine. I see you’re still walking and talking, quite a feat in this chap’s company.”
Mike said, “Good thing I come from hardy stock. But you know, sir, around Nicholas, you’re certainly never bored.”
A grizzled eyebrow flew up. “I’m still recovering. I still can’t get my head around the fact that he’s now an American FBI agent. And he thought I was strict.”
She’d liked Penderley when she’d met him at Elaine York’s funeral back in January. “We’re lucky to have him, sir. His mind would be a terrible thing to waste.”
Penderley laughed heartily. “Right. You’re welcome to it, all it ever did was cause me trouble. Come along.”
Once the BMW moved into traffic, Penderley got down to business. “We’ve blanketed Leyland’s house in Notting Hill. It appears no one’s there, and we’ve had eyes on the house for the past two hours. No one’s heard from Leyland, either. His people said he had a meeting at noon today and hasn’t been seen since.
“I’m beginning to worry. Special Branch is making all sorts of noise, wanting in on this. We won’t be able to put them off much longer, especially now that they know about this phantom submarine and Loch Eriboll, is it? Near the North Sea?”
“That’s right. Loch Eriboll. I have the exact coordinates for the sub.”
“Bringing up a sub isn’t something just anyone can do. The planning has begun, but they won’t be able to be in place to raise it until tomorrow at the earliest.”
“A problem with that plan, sir. Havelock is surely making his own preparations to raise this sub, if he hasn’t managed it already. He needs Adam Pearce for the final coordinates, so we need to find this kid before Havelock gets his hands on him.
“It’s scary stuff. With Havelock’s assembling polonium, going off the grid, and this unknown weapon, there’s no time to waste. Adam Pearce told us to meet him at Leyland’s. Hopefully he’s there now staying out of sight. Then we’ll head to Loch Eriboll, locate the sub and find this mythical key everyone’s searching for.”
“What’s the key to?”
“Possibly to something created by Madame Curie way back in the early part of the twentieth century. Something that can go with the polonium Havelock’s been gathering. Putting together the two supposedly will make a very powerful weapon. We need Adam Pearce and Sophie. They’re the only ones who know the whole story.”
Well, also all the members of the Order knew, but his father’s request, no, more a plea, sounded in his head. Protect the Order, keep the police away from them. Very well, he would remain quiet for the time being. But if everything went arse up, he himself would arrest every last member he could find, and be damned what happened to the Order.
Mike was watching him. He had the odd sensation that she knew what he was thinking.
Nicholas said, “Any sign of Havelock?”
“His plane landed in London, then departed again. We have no idea where he is.”
His mobile rang. He glanced at the screen. “Who’s this, 01856? That’s the Oxford code, isn’t it?”
Mike said, “Answer it. Maybe we’ll get lucky, and it’s Adam Pearce, calling to say he’s saved the day.”
“Perhaps.” Nicholas put it on speaker and answered. “Hullo?”
A woman’s voice, low, frantic. “Agent Drummond? It’s Sophie Pearce. You have to help me.”
61
West Park
Oxford
3:45 p.m.