“And I thank you again for coming here to meet with me. How about this? How about I promise to keep you updated as things move along? It’s probably a violation of protocol, but I’m willing to do that if it will help you get on board with how this thing has to work.”
Amanda sat perfectly still and locked eyes with him. Her expression softened. “Well, if that’s the only way.”
“Unfortunately, it is.” Zane reached across the table and squeezed her arm. She looked up at him and smiled.
“And you know what else… Zane?”
“What’s that?”
“I trust you too. The only person that I’ve ever truly looked up to and relied upon is the man I work for now. He’s like the dad I never had. He makes me feel like I have a family.” She dabbed her eye with her coat sleeve again and then laughed. “See, I can get emotional too. Anyway, it’s hard to explain, but ever since I arrived tonight, I’ve felt safe. Just like you, I can sense things in people. I trust you, and I know you would keep me safe if I were allowed to go to Vienna.”
“I’m flattered. I know how you must feel not being able to take part in the investigation, particularly when your father seemed to pass that responsibility on to you. But please trust me to find out who did this horrible thing. We’re good at what we do, and we will bring them to justice.”
Amanda stood up abruptly. “Okay. Here is my girlie side coming out. Do you mind if I give you a hug?”
“Not at all.”
She walked over and threw her arms around his neck. Zane patted her on the back and drew in the scent of her perfume. She even smelled good.
“By the way, what are your plans over the next few days?” Zane asked, pulling back.
“Well, I’m flying back to the States tomorrow because Dad’s memorial service is being held in North Carolina on Monday. It’s going to be simple. We don’t have a very big family.”
“Is there someone special who you can spend some time with?”
Amanda gave a nervous laugh. “No, no boyfriends, if that’s what you mean. My work doesn’t give me much time for that.”
“Believe me when I say I can sympathize with that.”
“I’m sure you can, Mr. Mystery Investigator.”
Zane laughed and then drained the rest of his ale. Remembering the unfinished business inside the pub, he dropped a few pound notes on the table and gestured toward the street. “Let’s get you a cab. I’ll bet you need some sleep.”
It only took a few moments for them to procure a cab on Hopton Street. Before entering the rear of the car, Amanda turned to face Zane. “Thank you again. You don’t know how much this means to me and my little family.”
“It’s my pleasure,” he replied. Her eyes began to tear up again, so she gave Zane one final smile before ducking into the back seat.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The second stall in the men’s room at the Whitehorse Tavern was closed and locked. However, its occupant, a man with wavy blond hair and a black leather jacket, was not engaged in any bodily functions. Instead, he sat on the toilet seat with his pants still on, a cell phone in his left hand.
After a few moments of silence, Sergei bent down to make sure there were no shoes visible in any of the other stalls. Seeing nothing, he dialed a number and pressed the phone to his ear. After a deep voice answered on the other end, he spoke softly in Russian. “When she arrived, she went directly to an outside table and sat down with a man.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” said the voice. There was a long pause before he asked, “Could you hear anything?”
“There were no open tables near them so we’ve been watching them from inside.”
“Well, what were they doing?” The voice sounded irritated.
“Mostly they just talked, but a couple of times it looked like she handed him something.”
“What was it?”
“We couldn’t see from where we were standing,” said Sergei.
“Have you ever seen the man before?”
“No, never.”
“What did he look like?”
“It was hard to see because of the reflection—” Sergei began.
“I said, what did he look like?”
“Yes, sir. He had long brown hair. That is all we could see.”
“Did you get a picture of him?” asked the voice.
“No, Dmitry was going to try a couple of times, but the man kept looking inside, like he was looking for someone. Maybe us. This man… his movements and the way he carried himself… I think he’s a professional. Maybe British police.”
“That’s doubtful,” the voice declared. “Not if his hair was long. Keep watching them, and call me back in exactly thirty minutes. I’m a little troubled that the two of you aren’t getting me better information. If he's a professional, we must know who he is. Figure it out. Is that understood?”
“I understand, sir.”
“And by the way, please don’t make me send Jorg back to London to clean up your mess.”
The line went dead. The man then stood up, flushed the toilet, and exited the stall.
When he entered the pub to look for the two men, Zane was reminded of how Londoners enjoyed beer. The crowd inside had increased fourfold since he had arrived an hour earlier, perhaps because of the dropping temperatures outside. All of the tables were full, and the bar was encircled by a seemingly impenetrable mass of humanity.
The crowd and the noise were almost overwhelming, but they also provided some cover as Zane crossed the room. He paused at times, acting as though he wanted to squeeze over to the bar, but instead using the opportunity to examine as many faces as possible. He began to realize that searching for the two men in such close quarters was a risky proposition, but he also knew not to ignore the alarm signals that had been going off ever since he had first seen them.
He planned to make one pass through the pub, use the rest room, and then make another pass on his way out. He had given up on the idea of ordering another beer — that would expose him to closer scrutiny. He still felt he had the upper hand, because he didn’t believe they knew he was on to them.
Zane noted nothing out of the ordinary until he opened the door to the men’s room. As he did, he almost ran into another man who was leaving. The man quickly turned sideways to avoid contact, and his head was awkwardly bent down.
It took only a second or two for Zane to realize it was one of the two men he had seen earlier, the one with the blond hair. His heart raced as he walked over to the sink. Unfortunately, he had been unable to note much about the man's appearance.
Fearing the man might have been spooked by the close encounter, Zane splashed some water on his face, waited for about a minute, and then walked back into the pub. He stood just outside the door and looked over the crowd, examining each person carefully.
After three minutes, he came to one unmistakable conclusion: whoever the two men were, they were no longer there.
CHAPTER EIGHT
There were no taxis waiting outside, so Zane decided to return to the Millennium on foot. He figured the walk would clear his mind and allow him to digest his conversation with Amanda Higgs. After an hour of talking to her, he realized she was even more impressive than her file had indicated. She was honest to a fault and smart beyond her years. Despite being overwhelmed by the death of her father, she was able to communicate clearly. In fact, Zane couldn’t help but think she would be a good fit at Delphi. Maybe he’d bring that up with the Oracle after all the Renaissance business was finished.
The operative had only traveled one block before realizing he was being tailed. As he glanced back, he noticed two men following at a distance, their profiles barely noticeable in the shadows of the dark street. Zane’s eyes had only rested on them for a brief second, but it was enough to determine that they weren’t pub crawlers.