“You’ll hear her tomorrow night. She’s going to open the concert and do a number with Ms. Gotham, too.”
“That will be quite a showcase for her,” Lee said. “Don’t let her go all Hollywood on you.”
Peter laughed. “We’re all going to go Hollywood next year. We’re going to have a production deal at Centurion Studios and make our own movies. Ben will produce, Hattie will score them, and I’ll write and direct. Oh, and I haven’t told Dad about it yet, so keep it under your hat, will you?”
“Don’t worry, I’m accustomed to keeping secrets,” Lee said.
“By the way, congratulations on your agreement with President Vargas. It’s already on MSNBC.”
“Thank you, Peter. It’s just one more box to check off before my term ends.”
“What are you going to do then?”
“I’m going to go back to Meriwether County, Georgia, and write my memoirs. I have to-the publishing deal is already done. And by the way, keep that under your hat until you hear about it on the news, which won’t be long.”
“I’ll look forward to reading it,” Peter said.
“And I’ll look forward to seeing more of your movies.”
Dino sidled over and caught Viv by herself for a moment. “How you doing?”
“Just great, thanks. You know, that Immi is quite a nice lady.”
“I noticed that for the last twenty years,” Dino said.
“What are you doing over here talking to me, when you could be talking to her?” Viv asked.
“I just wanted to tell you something.”
“I always like to know something.”
“Something might happen here that will come as a surprise.”
“Pleasant or unpleasant?”
“I’m pessimistic.”
“So what is it?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“You said you were going to tell me something. That was nothing.”
“I can’t tell you, because Stone wouldn’t tell me.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know, but I know Stone well enough to know that if he could’ve, he would’ve.”
Viv sighed. “Sheesh, you guys!”
47
Holly finished her fried chicken and called Langley again, asking for a position on Hamish McCallister.
“Stand by,” the officer said. Then, a moment later, “Got it. Position is now Chelsea, right by the river.”
“Do you have a home address for him?” Holly asked.
A brief silence. “Negative, I have nothing. When I run the name a note comes up saying, ‘Contact the office of the director.’ That’s you, isn’t it?”
“Right,” Holly said. “Thanks.” She hung up and went to find Kate Lee.
Kate was standing by the pool, talking to Stone, and Holly gently pulled her aside. “Do you know where Hamish McCallister lives?”
“In London,” Kate replied, “when he’s not traveling.”
“Where in London?”
“He has a house on the Chelsea Embankment-very expensive neighborhood.”
“By the River Thames?”
“Good guess. What’s going on, Holly?”
“I don’t know, exactly. I’m just very concerned to hear that Hamish has a half brother whose name has come up in a search for a bomb factory in this country.”
“I agree, that’s not happy news. My recollection, though, is that Hamish and his brother are not close, having grown up in different families.”
“Is that what Hamish told you?”
“It’s what Dick Stone told me.”
“I called Hamish after you and I talked earlier. He told me that he was at Annabel’s, in London. A position track confirmed that.”
“Good.”
“But when I asked him about the whereabouts of his brother, Mohammad, he told me that Mo was sitting across the table from him, drinking champagne, and that Mo had spent the past month at the McCallister place on the Isle of Murk, having just arrived from there by train yesterday. That raises the question: if they’re not close and were raised by different families, why is Mo spending a month at a time on Murk with a family that is not his?”
Kate frowned. “I can’t come up with even a hypothetical answer to that question. Call London and have them investigate the whereabouts of Mo.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Holly said. She went back to the study and called the CIA station at the American Embassy in London.
A woman answered. “Please state your business.”
“This is Assistant Director Holly Barker. What time is it in London?”
“Seven A.M.,” the woman replied.
“Is the station chief in his office at this hour?”
“He gets in at seven. I’ll connect you.” There was a click, then a pause.
“Good morning, Holly, this is Tom Riley.”
“Good morning, Tom. Scramble, please.”
There was some noise on the line, then, “We’re scrambled.”
“I’m calling from Los Angeles, where the director is traveling with her husband, and we need a position check on somebody, stat. His name is Mohammad Shazaz, known as Mo.” She spelled it for him. “He was alleged to have been at Annabel’s an hour or two ago, and for the month before that, visiting a prominent family called McCallister, on the Scottish isle of Murk.”
“Got it,” Riley said. “Do we know him?”
“We know his half brother, Hamish McCallister, who is our asset, reporting directly to the director’s office.”
“The director has an asset in the U.K. that’s reporting not to me but directly to her?”
“That is correct. It was approved by Dick Stone. I’d also like a position check on Mr. McCallister. His agency phone locator puts him currently at his house on the Chelsea Embankment, London. If that is correct, Mr. Shazaz may be staying with him.”
“We’ll start there,” Riley said, having apparently gotten over the fact that his boss had bypassed him in running an asset.
“Thank you. Are you reading my cell number?”
“Yes, I’ve got it.”
“It’s eleven P.M. in L.A. Call me, no matter how late it is.”
“Will do.” Riley hung up.
There was a knock at the door, and Felicity Devonshire poked her head in. “Are you receiving company?”
“Sure,” Holly said, “come on in.” Felicity took a seat next to her on the sofa. “I think there’s some brandy over there,” Holly said, nodding toward a bookcase. “Can I get you one?”
“A small one, please,” Felicity replied.
Holly walked across the room and poked around a row of books until a panel came down, revealing a fully stocked bar. She returned to the sofa with a bottle of Remy Martin and two snifters. She set them on the table.
