The Sixth Day (A Brit in the FBI #5)(9)
Penderley sighed. “Honestly, we don’t know anything for sure about the vice chancellor. They have to do a postmortem first. For the time being, the public will be told Hemmler had a heart attack, just as we’ve done with Donovan.
“Don’t get me wrong, Drummond, I do not miss you, but there are times I could use your brain. And now is one of them.”
Nicholas frowned. He heard stress and fatigue in Penderley’s voice, a sure sign of how serious the situation was. “I’m happy to help, sir. We’ll put the full strength of Covert Eyes at your disposal. Have you completed the autopsy on Donovan? How did he die?”
“We don’t know yet, but as soon as I find out, I will call you. As you know, Donovan collapsed outside his house and was dead nearly instantly. Here’s the truth: no one saw anything, no one touched him, nothing. And now Heinrich Hemmler collapses right outside 10 Downing Street? Yesterday and today, we’ve had two major political figures drop dead on our soil with no good reason.”
Nicholas said, “If these two men were assassinated, we must catch whomever is behind the deaths as quickly as possible, or President Bradley’s trip will most likely be canceled. So tell me, sir, what do you think is happening?”
“I haven’t the faintest yet, but there is one thing different in today’s attack on Hemmler. Several people have reported seeing a small drone in the area, like a toy, almost. One witness even took a picture of it.”
Nicholas’s blood stirred. “Ah. Have you enhanced it?”
“Yes. Am I correct to assume you would like to have a crack at it?”
“I would, yes.”
“I’ll send it along, in addition to everything else we have. Report back to me the moment you discover anything, would you, Drummond? I’d like us to be on the same page before the media storm hits.” A pause, then the familiar no-nonsense order from his old boss: “Get it sorted, Drummond.”
He couldn’t help himself, he grinned into his mobile. “Yes, sir. I’ll be in touch.”
Nicholas hung up the phone as Agent Michaela Caine walked into the kitchen, a towel around her neck, her face glistening with sweat, her blond ponytail at half-mast. Despite the vigorous run, she still smelled faintly of jasmine. He took the towel from around her neck and patted her face. “There, perfect again.” Knowing a lot of eyes were watching, he took a step back, studied her face for a moment. “Not too tired, are you?”
“No, I’m good. You’re vibrating, Nicholas. What’s going on?”
How could she know? “Nothing, well, not exactly nothing. I know it’s our vacation, but we have a case, a very high-profile case. Fact is, two big-time politicos, one of them the vice chancellor of Germany, are both dead within twenty-four hours of each other. Both simply collapsed, dead very quickly.” He saw her blue eyes light up and grinned. “You in the mood to work a couple of deaths that are very probably murders?”
CHAPTER FIVE
Mike loved Old Farrow Hall, particularly its multitude of fireplaces, all of them with a provenance, it seemed, that kept the huge house warm even on a chilly day in July. Nicholas’s office was no exception, with its nineteenth-century Venetian green-veined marble fireplace, glowing embers occasionally sparking off flames. His mother had decorated his office and made it both inviting and efficient. And not at all shabby. The fireplace was framed by dark wood paneling. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled haphazardly with paperbacks and hardcovers. A small desk and chair sat in a corner. But what made the room really welcoming were the burgundy leather sofa and two comfortable chairs, complemented by colorful dhurrie rugs. Her mind flew off to his visit to her suite of rooms in the opposite wing the previous night and—
“First things first,” Nicholas said, pulling out his cell phone.
“What? Oh, right, you want to take care of the ransomware problem first.”
He stared at her a moment. “Wool gathering, Agent Caine?”
“Maybe. A little bit, maybe about last night. You’re going to call Adam about the attack?”
“Yes, I want to get him working on both the drone and the malware. What about last night?”
She gave him a mad grin. “Oh, just a little of this, a little of that, nothing much of importance. First, tell me, does Penderley have any idea why the vice chancellor was murdered? Did Hemmler do anything to make himself a target, like someone who hates Germany for their dominating role in the E.U.? And what about this Chapman Donovan?”
Nicholas sat on the sofa and booted up his laptop, saying as he typed, “No, evidently no one has the foggiest idea. Hemmler was meeting with the PM to discuss England’s stand on open borders, maybe to try twisting the PM’s arm, but that’s not earthshaking. Nor does Penderley know why someone would target Chapman Donovan, a wealthy Irish landowner. Family’s been in horse racing for two hundred years, very rich, and an MP from Belfast West.”
“What about the drone someone spotted near where Hemmler died?”
“Penderley is sending a photo along with all his files any minute now. With luck, we’ll be able to identify the drone’s maker and put a stop to this straightaway. I’ll call Adam now. He’ll be able to enhance the photo faster than I can. And I’ll wager he knows all about the malware attacks and will be able to help with that.”