Stealth

56

Wilfred poured them another cup of tea. “This is a sufficiently important operation to employ more than one method,” he said. “You should have a choice. At Station Two, we relied on only one method.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“I think the most satisfying method would be an apparent murder-suicide. Either one could be made out to be the murderer.”

“Felicity,” Roger said. “It could be said that the pressures of her position brought this on.”

“I agree. I think it would be a very good idea, too, for Felicity to have some competition with regard to Barrington.”

“Is Felicity fucking Barrington?” Roger asked, surprised.

“For years,” Wilfred replied. “In New York, London, and at his estate, Windward Hall, which you have visited in her company.”

“Yes, I have, but I had not cottoned to their affair.”

“Felicity is a subtle woman. Still, she has her weaknesses.”

“Such as?”

“She likes both men and women in bed — preferably at the same time.”

“The woman, Rose,” Roger said, nodding. “I admire her taste in women.”

“So do I, and Barrington’s taste, as well.”

“A double murder and a suicide?” Roger asked. “How would we manage that?”

“Careful planning,” Wilfred replied. “And stealth.”

“I can’t disagree, but first we would have to get them into bed, all at the same time,” Wilfred said. “I have had word from a wiretap that they will all be at Barrington’s place next weekend.”

“Wilfred,” Roger said, “I am grateful for your confidence in me, but I cannot imagine how it would be possible to get three people in bed together and shoot them all.”

“Suppose they were all unconscious?”

“Certainly that would make it easier, but how do we induce unconsciousness? If we drugged them, an autopsy with a tox screen would reveal it and point the police to an outside killer.”

“Of course,” Wilfred said, “but our Russian friends, who are artful in these things, have a substance said to be made from two common household ingredients, which, when mixed, make a poison that works in a few minutes and is chemically untraceable.”

“What are the ingredients?” Roger asked.

“I don’t know — and I don’t want to know,” Wilfred replied. “If they became public knowledge there would be an immediate rash of unexplained domestic deaths in this country and around the world.”

“I suppose so,” Roger said. “But the Russians have it?”

“They are geniuses at poisoning. Take, for example, the deaths of former GRU agents in Britain.”

“Yes, but those don’t meet the standard of being untraceable. They were analyzed quite quickly.”

“That was the old days, so to speak. With this poison we have entered a new era. In fact, if we were able to introduce it into the food or drink of these three people, it would be the first professional use of the poison — that we know of.”

“Ah, yes, ‘that we know of.’”

“In order to accomplish our mission as planned,” Wilfred said, “they would have to die at a meal or at tea, then be removed to a bedroom, undressed, and suitably posed and shot.”

Roger shook his head. “I fail to see how such a mission could be accomplished with my skills alone.”

“Perhaps we could have a complimentary dessert delivered to the house from someone they know and trust.”

“For instance?”

“Perhaps from the Duke of Kensington.”

“Your father?”

“My father once was an officer in MI-6, and his father served in Britain’s Special Operations Executive during World War II. The current duke has had Felicity and Barrington to dinner in his London house.”

“Rose, too?”

“No, but we have to convince only Felicity and Barrington of the genuineness of the gift.”

“But why would the duke, out of the blue, send them pastries?”

“A good point,” Wilfred said. “Let’s set aside the poisoning for the moment and discuss other methods.”

“Good,” Roger replied, relieved.

“There are also your skills with the pistol and, particularly, the knife.”

“A woman does not kill two lovers with a knife, then commit suicide by the same method.”

“I was bypassing the suicide and going straight to murder.”

“That would deprive us of besmirching the reputation of Dame Felicity,” Roger pointed out.

“Let’s call it a last resort,” Wilfred said.

“Right. How about wine?”

“How do we induce them to drink it?” Wilfred asked.

“We’d need something really special, like a Château Lafite Rothschild 1929, or 1945.”

“And how would we obtain that?”

“At auction,” Roger said, “but it would cost many thousands of pounds.”

Wilfred shook his head. “Our Russian friends, while generous, do not dispense hard currency with alacrity.”

“If we could obtain a bottle, we could fill it with a lesser, more affordable wine, then reseal it.”

“But where would one find an empty Lafite ’29 bottle?” Wilfred asked.

They both thought about it for a while.

“I’m stumped,” Roger said.

They thought some more.

“Let me present you with another alternative,” Wilfred said, rising from his seat and going to a bookcase filled with bound volumes. He took down two and put them on his desk.”

Roger opened one. The title page read: The Short Oxford English Dictionary.

“I bound these myself,” Wilfred said. “The two volumes are more manageable than the entire twenty-volume set.” He opened one nearer the center, to reveal its contents. “Plastique explosive, a detonator, and a cell phone,” he said, pointing to each item. “In both volumes. Perhaps under the bed for setting off at the appropriate moment.”

“How would you deliver the package?” Roger asked.

“Our Russian friends have a large variety of skills at their disposal,” Wilfred said. “I will engage them and get back to you.”

“Thank you,” Roger said, relieved. “I’m perfectly willing to kill them all, but I don’t want to get caught doing it.”

“I understand,” Wilfred replied. “Let’s discuss time.”

“When I had dinner there before, it was called for seven,” Roger said. “Felicity and I arrived by boat, at Barrington’s dock.”

“Where did you dine, and how was the wine handled?”

“We dined in the library, and the wine was already on the table, ready for decanting. I suppose the butler had brought it from the cellar.”

“You will have to find a way to have access to the wine for, perhaps, half a minute.”

“If dinner is at seven, then at six, Barrington and Rose will be dressing for dinner.”

“Then there’s your opportunity,” Wilfred said.