“How about graduation? Did the parents turn up for that?”
“Neither of them. A chauffeured car picked them up after the ceremony, which was twelve years ago, and they were never heard from again. Mail to them — invitations to alumni events, pleas for money, et cetera — was sent to the bank and never replied to.”
“Did they go to university after Eton? Most of their graduates do.”
“There is no record of the boys applying for any university.”
“Are there any photographs of them — maybe in yearbooks?”
“None. They didn’t play any sports or participate in other extracurricular activities, except shooting classes and chess. Otherwise they kept to themselves. One other thing, they were tutored in elocution by a young instructor there, and by the time they left school, their accents were indistinguishable from the upper-class English spoken by all the boys, except the Scots, the Irish, and some foreigners.”
“Is there any indication of where they might be now?”
“None whatever — they simply evanesced. No British passport has been issued for either of them, so if they left the country, they had other papers.”
“Well, wherever they are, they have been very carefully groomed,” Holly observed. “What about the third man in the photos?”
“So far, a total blank. Can you ask your friends at the Agency why they believe he spent time at Berkeley? If we can find out when he was there, maybe we have a chance of running him down.”
“I’ll make a call,” Holly said. “Good work on the twins.”
Millie actually blushed. “Thank you.”
“Go home, take a nap, and get a change of clothes.”
“Thank you,” Millie said gratefully, then evanesced.
Holly called Lance Cabot and was immediately put through.
“Good morning, Holly.”
“Good morning, Lance. I have some information for you, and then I’d like you to get some for me.”
“Do you mind if I record our conversation? It’s easier than taking notes.”
“Go ahead. Ready?”
“Ready.”
Holly related what Millie had turned up on the twins.
“That’s extremely good work,” Lance said.
“I thought so. I have hopes for her.”
“Just shows how one personal relationship can cut through the fog and turn up useful information.”
“I wouldn’t say it’s useful in this case,” Holly said.
“Au contraire,” Lance said, in his best accent. “We now know the two are identical twins — that could be most helpful. We know Devin’s Bank — we might even have an asset there.”
“That would be very helpful indeed,” Holly said.
“Now, what do you need from me?”
“Millie drew a blank on the third photograph, the one who was said to have spent some time at Berkeley. I’d like to know where that information came from and if there’s any more of it.”
“I don’t believe it came from our people. I’ll have some calls made and see if it can be tracked down. Talk to you later.”
Lance hung up.
So did Holly.
Lance made a call to the Agency officer who had helped prepare the file for the president’s intelligence briefing. Her name was Charlotte Weir, and she was a fairly new officer, having joined three years before.
“Good morning, Charlotte.”
“Good morning, Director.”
“You are part of the collaborative effort, are you not, to prepare the president’s daily intelligence briefings?”
“I am, sir.”
“Do you recall that, in the discussion of our three persons of interest — those of the poor photographs — there was made mention that one of them might have spent some time at the University of California at Berkeley?”
“I recall that was said of one of the men.”
“It was said of two that they were at a British private school. They have since been accounted for.” He brought her up to date on the twins. “I now wish you to speak to whoever contributed the Berkeley information, to place a time frame on when he might have attended, and to thoroughly rake all of Berkeley’s records that might tell us more about him.”
“I’ll get right on it, Director.”
“That would please me greatly. Work as quickly as you can.” Lance hung up.
21
Stone and Pat got into the rear seat of the Bentley, and Fred drove them to Stone’s house. He asked Fred to take her luggage upstairs.
“Which room?” Fred whispered to Stone.
“Mine,” Stone whispered back. “Come on down to my office and tell me about your idea,” he said to Pat.
Joan got them some coffee.
“Have you ever flown your airplane across the Atlantic?” Pat asked.
“Nope, but I’ve always wanted to. There’s an awful lot of prep to do, I understand — a lot of paperwork.”
“A client of mine who owns a string of Jaguar dealerships in Britain, Europe, and the States has bought himself a CitationJet4, and he wants it flown to Wichita, where he’s going to do his training. Why don’t you and I fly your airplane over there? Paperwork is what I do, and I can do it fast. I’ve already had a dozen crossings on the northern route, doing ferry flights, so I can show you the ropes. We’ll land in Coventry, which is where both Jaguar and my client live. He’s offered me the loan of a car, if I want to do some touring, and I’ve never had any time to myself in England — I was always in and out.”
“That sounds very inviting,” Stone said. “But what about your business?”
“The business is nascent. I can handle what I’ve got on the phone, and your airplane has a satphone. Also, I can’t work out of my new office until this thing with Kevin is settled.”
“Well, you know the northern route, and I know England. I hitchhiked around the island when I was a student, and I saw a lot of very nice country hotels that I couldn’t afford to stay in. When do we go?”
“I can get the paperwork in hand by next Monday. How’s that?”
Stone turned to his computer and checked the next couple of weeks. “Nothing here that can’t be handled by phone or just later. You’re on, but why do we have to do the northern route?”
“Your airplane has a thirteen-hundred-mile range, and that’s not enough to go nonstop. We’ll fly up to Goose Bay, in Labrador, then to Greenland, where we’ll refuel, then to Reykjavik, Iceland. If we luck into a big tailwind, we might do Goose Bay — Reykjavik nonstop. We can do an overnight there, or we can press on to England. It’ll be about ten hours overall, but we can take turns flying and napping.”
“You’ve already got an office right down the hall,” Stone said. “All my manuals and paperwork are in my flight bag right over there.” He pointed. “So get to work.”
She finished her coffee and did just that.
Stone was working on his mail when Dino called. “Word has reached me that yet another of your friends is in trouble,” he said. “Is Pat all right?”
“She is. I got her out of the house, and first of the week, I’m getting her out of the country.”
“Where are you headed?”
“To England, and in my airplane.”
“Your airplane would get halfway there, then splash!”
“We’re going the northern route: Canada, Greenland, Iceland.”
“Haven’t you heard it’s winter?”
“The airplane has a heater. You want to come along?”
“Is Pat doing the flying?”
“We’re sharing. She’s flying a delivery back from England, I’ll make the trip back alone.”
“I’ve got some business in London — maybe I’ll fly back with you.”