The Sixth Day (A Brit in the FBI 5)

And there it was, Nicholas realized. His father had complete faith in him and his skills. He prayed neither he nor Adam would fail him.

Nigel came into the room. “Master Nicholas, Master Harry, I’m sorry to interrupt, but you have guests.”

Nicholas said, “Guests? Who? We aren’t expecting anyone. Father?”

“I’m not, no.”

Nigel merely smiled and left. He returned moments later with Agent Ben Houston and Melinda St. Germaine.

He looked at Nicholas. “Shall I have two more places set for dinner?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Nicholas grinned at Ben. “I was wondering when you and Melinda would cross our path. You will stay to dinner, of course. Melinda, you know my father, and this is my partner, Agent Mike Caine, New York FBI.”

Harry hugged Melinda, kissed her cheek. “I am so very sorry about your mother, Melinda. Her death hit us all very hard.”

“Thank you. I—it’s difficult.”

“How ever did you meet an FBI agent from New York?”

“A very long story, sir.”

Harry turned to the young man whose hair was nearly the exact shade of red as Melinda’s. He looked bright, fit, all in all, a nice-looking young man. “I recognized your name. You’re part of my son’s and Michaela’s Covert Eyes, aren’t you?”

Ben nodded. “Yes, but this trip wasn’t business. I’m here on vacation.”

“I hope Melinda is showing you all the tourist sites.”

Ben considered saying he hadn’t come to London to see the Tower of London but to hook up with a member of Parliament, but he thought better of it. “Well, sir, there hasn’t been that much time as of yet and . . .” He stalled.

Melinda grinned, curse her, and said, “Ben is Covert Eyes’ resident art historian, isn’t that right, Ben?”

“Ah, yes, that’s perfectly correct.”

“I’ve been taking him to all the museums this week. This morning we were at the British Museum.” A lie here, the truth there, a little of each.

Ben lit up. “Melinda set it up, without telling me, a big surprise. It was a press conference, given by a cryptologist at the museum who’d happened to find missing pages from the Voynich manuscript buried in among the archives. She said quite a lot—” He looked over at Melinda. “I don’t think my MP here believed she was on the up-and-up entirely.”

“No, I didn’t, but that’s neither here nor there.”

Ben squeezed her shoulder, couldn’t help himself. “Well, Melinda knows the director of the antiquities department, Dr. Wynn-Jones, so we were able to see the discovered quire and the long-lost page seventy-four. It was remarkable.”

Melinda added, “Dr. Wynn-Jones was a teacher of mine. Believe me, he was thrilled to show off this astonishing discovery to Ben, a big honcho FBI agent from New York. Nicholas, why are you frowning?”

“Well, there’s something odd about this. Ben, you were in on the investigation when the Voynich was stolen from the Beinecke last year, right?”

“Yes, I was. We were unable to discover the thief—well, actually, we didn’t find out anything useful. The case, of course, remains open. At the press conference today, the professor who found the missing quire and page seventy-four begged the thief to come forward, to reunite the pages to the manuscript.” Ben added, “Now I think about it, maybe you’re right, Melinda. It is very odd this young cryptologist just happened upon these missing pages. I think I should see where Dr. Isabella Marin was last year when the Voynich was stolen.”

Mike said, “You have a beautifully devious mind, Ben, I’ve always thought so, and to see it in action—”

“Yes,” Melinda said, her voice complacent, “he does have quite an astounding brain, doesn’t he?”

Nicholas said, “Yes, absolutely astounding and I’d like to put it to good use, if you can find the time, Ben. And if you’re willing to do some work on your vacation.”

“We need your help, Ben,” Mike said.

Melinda said, “We come over to say hello, and now you want to work him to the bone on his first vacation in too long a time?”