The Sixth Day (A Brit in the FBI 5)

Nicholas stepped away from the group and said to Savich, “This is worrisome. I’ll call Penderley at Scotland Yard, see what I can learn. Two high-profile deaths in two days? I know the folk in Northern Ireland have to be up in arms over Chapman’s death, and now the German vice chancellor is dead, as well? Both supposedly natural deaths? It doesn’t feel right, does it?”

“No, and we must know as soon as possible if the deaths are assassinations, and related. As you might know, President Bradley is scheduled to meet with the P.M. in London on Sunday to discuss how the U.S. can assist in dealing with possible consequences of Brexit.”

“Not much time,” Nicholas said, “but I’ll get right on it. It’s time to talk to the Security Services. I’ll be discreet. I’ll call you when I have something.”

“Thank you. I hate to cut your vacation short, Nicholas, but Vice President Sloan agrees with me. She knew you and Mike were in England, knew you could get information for the Secret Service so they could determine if the trip is still advisable. I’d like to be able to tell her we have this situation well in hand. Let me know if I need to jump on a call with you when you speak to Security Services. Your dad is involved with them, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he’s back with them as a consultant. I imagine he’s up to his neck, what with these two deaths.”

Sherlock said, “We’ll let Zachery know you’ll be looking into this for us. You and Mike be careful—no more near drownings for Mike, and no more nearly falling into volcano craters for you.”

Nicholas swallowed. “No more deep water, no more volcanoes, I promise.”

Nicholas punched off and immediately dialed his old boss at New Scotland Yard, Hamish Penderley, the big gun with a title to match: chief superintendent of the Operational Command Unit.

“Drummond? I’m not surprised. I suppose you already know we’re rather busy this morning.”

“Sir, this is about the death of the vice chancellor at 10 Downing Street a few minutes ago.”

“And you want to know because . . . ? You, I understand, are here with your partner

to relax and to soak up the rays, as the Yanks say, if there ever are any rays to be found in England. How did you get involved in this mess?”

“Agent Dillon Savich called me, asked me to lend a hand because the president is due to arrive on Sunday to meet with the PM And that’s why I’m calling you, sir. I must know what’s happening, or my hands are tied.”

Penderley sighed. “Honestly, we don’t know anything for sure about the vice chancellor. They have to do a postmortem first. For the time being, the public will be told Hemmler had a heart attack, just as we’ve done with Donovan.

“Don’t get me wrong, Drummond, I do not miss you, but there are times I could use your brain. And now is one of them.”

Nicholas frowned. He heard stress and fatigue in Penderley’s voice, a sure sign of how serious the situation was. “I’m happy to help, sir. We’ll put the full strength of Covert Eyes at your disposal. Have you completed the autopsy on Donovan? How did he die?”

“We don’t know yet, but as soon as I find out, I will call you. As you know, Donovan collapsed outside his house and was dead nearly instantly. Here’s the truth: no one saw anything, no one touched him, nothing. And now Heinrich Hemmler collapses right outside 10 Downing Street? Yesterday and today, we’ve had two major political figures drop dead on our soil with no good reason.”

Nicholas said, “If these two men were assassinated, we must catch whomever is behind the deaths as quickly as possible, or President Bradley’s trip will most likely be canceled. So tell me, sir, what do you think is happening?”

“I haven’t the faintest yet, but there is one thing different in today’s attack on Hemmler. Several people have reported seeing a small drone in the area, like a toy, almost. One witness even took a picture of it.”

Nicholas’s blood stirred. “Ah. Have you enhanced it?”

“Yes. Am I correct to assume you would like to have a crack at it?”

“I would, yes.”

“I’ll send it along, in addition to everything else we have. Report back to me the moment you discover anything, would you, Drummond? I’d like us to be on the same page before the media storm hits.” A pause, then the familiar no-nonsense order from his old boss: “Get it sorted, Drummond.”

He couldn’t help himself, he grinned into his mobile. “Yes, sir. I’ll be in touch.”

Nicholas hung up the phone as Agent Michaela Caine walked into the kitchen, a towel around her neck, her face glistening with sweat, her blond ponytail at half-mast. Despite the vigorous run, she still smelled faintly of jasmine. He took the towel from around her neck and patted her face. “There, perfect again.” Knowing a lot of eyes were watching, he took a step back, studied her face for a moment. “Not too tired, are you?”

“No, I’m good. You’re vibrating, Nicholas. What’s going on?”

How could she know? “Nothing, well, not exactly nothing. I know it’s our vacation, but we have a case, a very high-profile case. Fact is, two big-time politicos, one of them the vice chancellor of Germany, are both dead within twenty-four hours of each other. Both simply collapsed, dead very quickly.” He saw her blue eyes light up and grinned. “You in the mood to work a couple of deaths that are very probably murders?”

CHAPTER FIVE

Mike loved Old Farrow Hall, particularly its multitude of fireplaces, all of them with a provenance, it seemed, that kept the huge house warm even on a chilly day in July. Nicholas’s office was no exception, with its nineteenth-century Venetian green-veined marble fireplace, glowing embers occasionally sparking off flames. His mother had decorated his office and made it both inviting and efficient. And not at all shabby. The fireplace was framed by dark wood paneling. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled haphazardly with paperbacks and hardcovers. A small desk and chair sat in a corner. But what made the room really welcoming were the burgundy leather sofa and two comfortable chairs, complemented by colorful dhurrie rugs. Her mind flew off to his visit to her suite of rooms in the opposite wing the previous night and—

“First things first,” Nicholas said, pulling out his cell phone.