I’m afraid Ambrose and I have a lunch on with my employer, Sir David Trulove, sorry to say. That awful tragedy with the drone fighter aircraft in Israel last week. We’ve got to find out who is behind these bloody incidents and soon. They’ve managed to put the whole world on edge, haven’t they?”
“Yes, sir. My colleagues at MI5 are certainly edgy. So far, Britain has been spared. But that’s hardly a comfort.”
“How do you stop someone with the power to use your own weapons against you?”
Neither had an immediate answer and so they stood there looking at each other in silence, neither of them willing to acknowledge the powerful attraction they had begun to feel for each other. Being under the same roof with her was no help at all, Hawke thought. But she was invaluable, had saved Alexei’s life, and-bloody hell-his child’s mother had married another man. He was free to do as he damn well pleased, wasn’t he?
“Precisely, sir,” she said finally, after his question had hung unanswered in the air for so long Hawke hadn’t the faintest idea what he’d asked her to begin with.
Hawke looked at her for a few moments and said, “Do you like Indian food at all, Miss Spooner?”
“Indian food? Well. I suppose I do, sir, very much.”
“I was thinking, there’s a little restaurant I quite like, not too far away, over in Mayfair. Taboori. Perhaps one night we might go for a curry?”
“That would be lovely, sir. I’d like that very much. Very much indeed.”
“Good… very good,” Hawke replied, fumbling for the rest of his sentence and finding himself simply unable to supply further dialogue. She came to his rescue.
“Indeed, sir. Well, I suppose we should be off. He goes down for his nap at two and I don’t want him to get overtired.”
“No, no. Of course not. You two run along. It’s a perfect day for a picnic in the park.”
“Come along, Alexei,” she said, holding her arms out to him. He laughed and leaped from the bed into her waiting arms after kissing his father on both cheeks.
“Bye-bye, Daddy!” he said, holding Spooner’s hand as they left the room.
Hawke put his hands behind his head and gazed up into the folds of dark blue silk canopy above.
Had he ever been happier?
N ell Spooner and her young charge entered the park through the Rutland Gate. They were headed for her favorite spot in the middle of a big meadow with a view toward the Serpentine. It was the place she went on her afternoons off, taking a blanket, some fruit, and a book to spend a few hours of quiet reading and much-needed solitude. She liked the view and so had chosen this as their weekly picnic spot as well.
Today in her canvas shoulder bag, in addition to a blanket, her own book and a couple for Alexei, she’d packed fruit, bottles of water and apple juice, animal crackers, cheese sandwiches, crisps, sliced apples, and a SIG Sauer. 45 automatic pistol.
“Horsies!” Alexei said, as a close-knit group of riders sped by at full gallop, their mounts kicking up big clods of dark earth in their wake. There were quite a number of them and they had to wait some time for them all to pass. Finally, there was a gap. Two men on horseback, trotting at a leisurely pace, reined in their mounts and, smiling, waited so the two of them could dash across the riding trail.
“Thanks so much,” Nell shouted at the two gentlemen once they were safely across the wide riding path.
“Horsies,” Alexei said again, intently watching the parade of them pass.
“Nice horsies,” Nell said, taking his hand and striding through the rich green grass toward the Serpentine, the snake-shaped lake glittering in the strong sunlight. The area of the meadow she chose was hardly ever crowded for some unknown reason, one of the reasons she liked it so much.
“Here’s our spot, Alexei,” she said, putting down her shoulder bag and flinging the blanket open. She spread it out, got herself situated, and then began unpacking her bag. She realized Alexei must be quite thirsty after the long walk from Belgrave Square and pulled out the apple juice first. Unscrewing the top, she said, “Here you go, tiger, I must say you are very…”
She looked around. The boy was nowhere in sight. She’d only taken her eyes off him for a minute or two and he’d wandered off. She jumped to her feet, calling his name. Hearing no reply, and beginning to get a bit nervous, she ran around a large hedgerow beyond which was a pathway that led to the Peter Pan sculpture. He loved the story of the flying boy and they’d visited the statue many times. Perhaps that’s where the child had wandered Yes. There he was. Toddling as fast as his little legs could carry him down the path toward Peter Pan, oblivious to the parade of puppies on leashes, prams, and other toddlers heading his way.
“Alexei, stop!”
He turned around, saw her, and started running faster. Everything was a game. She quickly caught up, snatched him up into her arms, and gave him a good talking to on the way back to the blanket. She was sure it did no good at all, but she was angry with herself for letting him out of her sight and the lecture was as much for her benefit as his.
“Now, finish your cheese sandwich and I’ll read you the rest of Peter Pan. There’s a good boy. So Wendy and Michael Darling had just settled into their wee beds when they saw a strange glow flit through the opened window. ‘Oh! Wendy said, that’s-’ ”
“Captain Hook!” Alexei interrupted. “Where is Captain Hook? And the alligator with the clock in his tummy?”
“That comes later, remember? Now, where was I?”
She was flipping through the pages of the big picture book when she saw something exceedingly odd. Two men on horseback riding across the meadow. It was strictly forbidden, of course; one had to stay on the path at all times, otherwise you’d have people The two mounted riders were heading directly toward where she and Alexei were sitting. And they weren’t trotting now, no, not at all, they were riding at a full gallop, gaining ground very quickly. She could see their faces now; it was clearly the two men who’d let them pass, and it was suddenly abundantly clear to her what they intended.
They must have been stalking her for weeks. They clearly knew her Sunday schedule and they’d been waiting this morning for Alexei and her to arrive through the Rutland Gate.
Now, they intended to trample them both to death.
She reached into her bag and pulled out the. 45 automatic, at the same time pushing Alexei out the way.
“Run!” she cried. “Run, Alexei! Go to Peter Pan! Go to Peter now! It’s a race! I’ll catch you!”
The riders were upon them and Alexei hadn’t moved. He was transfixed by the sight of the approaching horses, thundering directly toward him.
“Stop!” she cried out. “Stop or I’ll shoot!”
She raised the gun and took dead aim at the man who was in the lead. His path was unswerving. He meant to crush them, you could see it in his eyes. And he had a gun, too, she now saw, fitted with a silencer. The killer leaned forward in his saddle, the reins in his left hand, the gun in his right.
She squeezed the trigger three times, two rounds in the chest, the third to the head. He toppled from the saddle, but one foot was hung up in the stirrup. The horse reared up in panic. The second horse swerved to avoid it. It was headed directly toward Alexei and she had only seconds to act.
She dove for the boy, giving him a violent shove that sent him flying into the hedges.
She was suddenly aware of excruciating pain below her waist, her legs being trampled by the pounding hooves. But she was still alive. She used her arms to roll herself over, pulling the gun free of her body, and getting it up just in time to get off a single shot at the fleeing second horseman.
She’d only winged him, she saw, caught him in the right shoulder. He almost came off the horse, the power of the. 45-caliber round like a sledgehammer at such close range, but he managed to keep his seat and galloped away.
She heard Alexei somewhere behind her, screaming her name, “Spooner! Spooner… bad horsies… bad…”
He staggered toward her, bloodied and bruised.
Spooner opened her arms to him.
And then… all was black.
A mbrose Congreve forked the last of the perfectly prepared shad roe into his mouth, sat back, swallowed,
