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Lord Darcy nodded. “That does rather narrow it down to Goodman Paul. Only he could have removed that packet from the safe.”

“My thought exactly,” said Commander Lord Ashley. “Naturally, I insisted upon speaking to Paul Nichols immediately, and asked for his home address. It turns out that he lived there in the hotel; he has a room up on the top floor. Bolmer took me up and I knocked on Nichols’ door, got no answer, and Bolmer let us in with a pass key. Nichols wasn’t in. His bed was made and certainly didn’t look as though it had been slept in. Bolmer said that was odd because usually Nichols goes out to have a bite to eat after he gets off work, then comes back to the hotel and sleeps until around six o’clock.”

“Did you find out whether Nichols took advantage of the hotel’s maid service?” Lord Darcy asked.

The Commander nodded. “He did. Nichols quite often went out of an evening, and the maid had orders to make up his room between 7:30 and 8:30. I looked the room over and checked through his things. He didn’t seem to have packed anything. His suitcase, empty, was in the closet, and Bolmer said that as far as he knew it was the only suitcase Nichols owned.”

“That’s the advantage of being a counterspy,” said Lord Bontriomphe with a sigh. “If an officer of the King’s Peace tried searching a man’s room without a warrant he’d find himself in the Court of the King’s Bench trying to explain to My Lord justice how he had come to make such a mistake.”

“Well, I didn’t really search the place,” Ashley said. “I was just taking a look around.”

“So,” said Lord Darcy, “you found that Nichols was not there and apparently had not been to bed since the bed was made on the previous evening.”

“Right. I questioned some of the hotel servants. No one had seen him come back from his breakfast — or perhaps for him it was supper — so I instructed Bolmer to say nothing but to let us know as soon as Nichols returned. Then I came back here and reported to Captain Smollett.”

Lord Darcy nodded and looked back at the captain.

“Been looking for him ever since. Sent men over to the hotel, to wait for him to come to work at midnight; he didn’t show up. Still no sign of him. Not a trace.”

“You suspect then,” said Lord Darcy, “that the disappearance of the packet and the disappearance of Nichols are linked. I agree with you. The contents of that envelope would have been in code, would they not, Captain?”

“Yes indeed. And not the simple code used for that note, either. Furthermore, Zwinge always used ink and paper with a special spell on it. If an unauthorized person broke the seal, the writing would vanish before he could get the paper out of the envelope.”

“Obviously, then, Nichols did not remove it from the safe, read it over, and decide that it was valuable on the spur of the moment.”

“Obviously not,” agreed Captain Smollett. “Furthermore, Zwinge was no fool. Wouldn’t have given it to Nichols unless he trusted him. Also, since the envelope had that protective spell on it, the only way to read the contents would be to get it to a magician who is clever enough and powerful enough to analyze and nullify Master Sir James Zwinge’s spell.”

“Do you have any idea what sort of information might have been in that envelope, Captain Smollett?” Lord Darcy asked.

“None. None whatsoever. Can’t have been terribly urgent — that is, not requiring immediate action — or Zwinge would have brought it here himself, in spite of everything. But it was certainly important enough to drive King Casimir’s agents to murder to get it.”

“How do you think this ties in with the murder of Barbour, then? And with the Navy’s new secret weapon?”

The captain scowled and puffed at his pipe for a few seconds. “Now there we’re on shaky ground. Obviously it was discovered that Barbour was a double agent; otherwise he wouldn’t have been killed.”

“I agree with you there,” said Lord Darcy.

“Very well. But that leaves us several possible speculations about FitzJean and about the Poles’ knowledge of the confusion projector.

“If, as we hope, they know nothing of the device, then they knew nothing about FitzJean except the purely mendacious material which Barbour had passed on to them. When they discovered he was a double agent, they simply killed him and ignored FitzJean. Information on fleet disposition isn’t worth taking any great pains over.

“However, I am afraid that we would be unrealistically optimistic to put any faith in the notion that the Polish Government is entirely unaware of the existence of the confusion projector.

“Much more likely, they are sparing no effort to find out what it is and how it works — which would still indicate that they know nothing whatever about FitzJean. If they did, they would certainly not have killed Barbour until they could get their hands on FitzJean — which, of course, they may have done. Or again they may already have the secret and not give two hoots in Hell about FitzJean.

“And finally, there is the possibility that FitzJean was himself a Polish agent sent in to test Barbour. When they discovered that Barbour’s output to them differed drastically from what they knew the input to be, his death warrant was sealed.”

Captain Smollett spread his hands. “But these are mere speculations; they tell us nothing. Important thing right now’s to get our hands on Paul Nichols. Would have given you this before, but, as I said, there’s actually nothing we can hold Nichols on. Can’t prove that envelope ever existed, much less that he stole it. So how could we turn the matter over to Officers of the King’s Justice?”

“My dear Captain, you should study something besides Admiralty law. Fleeing the scene of a crime is always enough evidence to warrant asking for a man’s arrest and detention for questioning. Now the first question any investigator asks himself is: Where would the suspect go? To the Polish Embassy?”

Smollett shook his head. “No. There’s a twenty-four hour watch on everyone entering or leaving the Polish Embassy.”

“Exactly. I know that. So do the Poles. But the local headquarters for this Polish espionage ring is somewhere in the City. Where?”

“Wish I knew,” said the captain. “Give half a year’s pay for that information. We have reason to believe that there are at least three separate rings operating here in London, each unknown to the others, or at least known only to a select few. We know some of the agents, of course. We keep an eye on ’em; I’ve had my men watching every known agent in London for the past eighteen hours. So far, no news. But what we do not know is where any of their headquarters might be. Hate to admit it, but it’s true. We have no hint, no suggestion, no clue of any kind.”

“Then the only way to find Nichols,” Lord Darcy said, “is to comb London for him. And that requires legwork. While your men are searching for him covertly, Lord Bontriomphe and the Armsmen of London can be looking for him for questioning on the charge of fleeing the scene of a crime.”

Bontriomphe nodded. “We can have a net out for him within an hour. If we find anything, Captain, I’ll let you know immediately.”

“Very good, m’lud.”

“I’d better get started on it,” Bontriomphe said, getting to his feet. “The quicker the better. If you need to contact me for any reason, Captain, send word to the Royal Steward. We have set up our headquarters there; there will be a Sergeant-at-Arms on duty at all times, and I shall be checking in there regularly.”