‘They will,’ says Owain. ‘Providing of course that they have anything to give up and the CIA don’t kill them in the process.’
‘We have one lead that might prove fruitful, but I don’t want to raise your hopes prematurely.’
‘They need raising, even if it is only temporary.’
He gives it his best shot. ‘Antun’s death was caught on CCTV cameras at the station. We were able to work backwards, block-by-block following him on street surveillance systems. He came to Grand Central in a white van that had been parked at the back of a group of old row houses down Westchester Avenue. There’s a shot of Antun and the man he fought with and killed getting into it.’
Owain had to cast his mind back ‘Hadn’t we been watching one of Nabil’s safe houses near there?’
‘Yes, but it’s not where he is now. We do however have footage from there showing a young Muslim woman going in, looking terrified.’
Poor kid.’
‘Lucky kid, more like. When she comes out, she’s on her knees, kissing the ground. Praising Allah for something.’
‘Her life.’
‘That’s what I thought. My guess is she was the original candidate for the suicide vest, then Antun volunteered to take her place.’
‘Let’s hope she stayed lucky.’
‘She has so far. I’ve got a crew monitoring her. If we can offer her a new start somewhere far away then she might be turnable.’
‘Does the CIA know about her?’
‘Not yet. But they’ll be doing the same surveillance back-trace that we did, only with more primitive equipment.’
Gwyn drums his fingers on the big table. ‘I’m hesitant because I’m trying to see the bigger picture. Lance has intelligence pointing at an al-Qaeda strike in Rome and I’m trying to reconcile the two locations.’
‘Surely it’s an either or?’
Owain grimaces. ‘Maybe not. Mardrid is pumping money into AQ like never before. For some time, he’s been riding the coat tails of the Muslim Brotherhood, helping them build powerbases in Egypt, Syria, Algeria and Libya. If you couple that with his activities in Africa, you can see an ambitious plan of destabilization.’
‘Good old-fashioned monetary warfare.’
‘War always is, Gareth, and for centuries the Mardrids have funded the most brutal of them. I’ve told Lance I want Josep Mardrid dead, and I mean it. We have to cut the head off the serpent. If we don’t, many innocent lives will be lost.’
78
A simple meal of roasted lamb, new potatoes and summer vegetables is served in a wainscoted room decorated with a hundred and fifty medieval shields. Each one comes from a Blood Line knight, a founding member of the secret Arthurian Order.
The room is wide and tall, with heavy crimson drapes and leaded ceiling-to-floor windows to three walls. In winter, a raging fire would roar in the massive inglenook hearth that dominates the fourth wall.
Lady Gwyn, Lance Beaucoup and Myrddin sit at a long table made from a giant oak that grew for centuries in the castle’s grounds. Down the length of its noble grain stand ten silver candelabras, all dripping candle wax.
Myrddin puts down a silver jewelled wine goblet that he’s owned all his life and blots red wine from his lips with a white cotton napkin. His green eyes settle on Lance as though reading his thoughts. ‘I believe it was February of last year.’
‘What was?’ The Frenchman puts down his knife and fork.
‘This was the first time that you were bold enough to declare your affections to the good lady.’
Lance picks up his wine and drinks nervously.
‘Since then, you have thought of her every morning and every night. You are so hopelessly in love you would die for her. You’d give up your own life in a heartbeat. Wouldn’t you?’
He knows there is no point denying it. ‘I would.’
‘It is good to know there is honour in dishonour, because one day you most probably will have to lay down your life for her. I believe it is something Owain knows as well.’
Lance looks alarmed, ‘Does he—’
Myrddin cuts him off with a mocking smile. ‘You insult both him and me with your question. What is important is that he thinks much of you. He sees you as brave and… gallant.’
The comment angers him. ‘In days of old such gallantry would deserve more than ridicule from an old man.’
Myrddin runs a finger across his throat. ‘In days of old cold steel may have been drawn across warm flesh in response to indiscretion such as yours.’
Lance looks to Jennifer. ‘Was this why you arranged tonight’s dinner? To have me lectured and embarrassed in this way?’
Myrddin prevents her answering. ‘No, it is for me to remind you that discretion is the better part of valour. Some things in the great Cycle are inevitable and it behoves me to instruct those central to its motion to behave in a manner that does not cause concern among the circles. Do you understand, my young and gallant knight?’
‘Enough, monsieur. I am done with this.’ Lance drops his napkin on the table and pushes back his chair. ‘It is better I go and swallow my words, than stay and spit out poison that sickens our future relationship.’
‘As you wish.’
Lance nods at Jennifer and leaves.
Myrddin stretches out his hand and takes hers. ‘He has made a wise decision. In the mathematics of the heart, love and goodness are multiplied by sacrifice and so far your lover has made but a small contribution.’
‘Don’t chide him so.’
‘My child, soon you will be called upon to make the greatest of sacrifices and I need to ensure your account is not empty of love when life withdraws all that matters to you.’
She squeezes tight. Holds on like she did when she was a child and ran to him, frightened. ‘How long has Owain known?’
‘Long enough to prepare and not so long to be immune to hurt. The blackest of times is coming and both your husband and I believe your fiery French friend is best suited to guide you to the light.’
79
At the end of what seems a long day Mitzi and Bronty eat in the hotel restaurant. Soup. Steaks and fries. Nothing fancy. No dessert but one too many glasses of wine. Bloated and sleepy, they crash out as soon as they’re finished.
Mitzi climbs into bed and calls her sister.
Ruth still sounds angry with her. ‘I was wondering if you were going to bother to call.’
She fights back a curt reply. ‘Busy day, Ruthy. You may have noticed there’s been a bombing in the UK. On top of that, I’m still working a double homicide.’
‘I wasn’t criticizing.’
‘Sounded like you were warming up to it. How’s Amber?’
‘A little better.’ Her tone softens. ‘She’s not eating yet but we got her a prescription and she’s moved from the bathroom to her bed. She’s on the mend.’
Mitzi tries to build bridges. ‘Thanks for looking after her. I’m really sorry I’m not there.’
‘Yeah. I wish you were here too. I know what happened with Jack wasn’t your fault.’ There’s an awkward lull before she adds, ‘I just needed someone to blame. Other than me.’
‘Then blame him. Not you.’
‘I know. Hey, what I said about you finding another place. There’s no rush. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want.’
‘I’ll find somewhere soon. Promise.’
‘Not too soon. I’m gonna miss having people round.’
‘Oh, we’ll still be around — just not under your feet. Do either of my daughters want to talk to me?’