Black River

THIRTY-NINE

The black Jaguar sedan moved through London traffic en route to the Palace of Westminster and the Parliament House of Commons when Prime Minister Duncan Hannes’ mobile phone vibrated softly in the inside breast pocket of his tailored suit jacket. Although the caller ID was not displayed, Hannes wasn’t hesitant to take the call.

All his life he’d leaned into challenges. Never back away. It was time this threat was quashed like an annoying insect. Keep the bloody bastard on the line long enough to give M15 time to lock down a more precise location. He answered. “Yes.”

“It is so unfortunate that the proverbial cat is out of your bag, Duncan.” The man’s voice had dreamlike coolness. It was as if a master hypnotist was about to instruct the most powerful politician in Britain to swim naked across the English Channel. “However, there is no real controversy until tangible evidence is brought forth. All else is simply scuttlebutt. Nothing but unproven rumor in an election year. The video with the alleged Crown Jewel diamond could easily have been faked. The contract mentioned in the video hasn’t been seen in public. I can keep it that way, Duncan. I can deliver to you the paper with the unverified signature of someone who held your position 160 years earlier, Lord Palmerston. I’ll wrap the diamond in it. All you have to do in return is make the deposit into the account. Nothing will ever surface. No embarrassment to the Royals. No re-writing of history. It all fades quietly away. And you, Duncan, become the silent hero. A true knight in Her Majesty’s kingdom.”

“How can you negotiate without the goods?”

“Who says I don’t have them?”

“I do. Your call is rubbish, tantamount to the threat of blackmail without the cards on the table. You’re nothing but the joker.”

“I will show you the cards, but now when I spread them on the table it will be for the world to see. And you, dear Duncan, will go from what could have been a knightly position to a mere jester in Her Majesty’s court.”

The caller disconnected.

Duncan pressed four numbers on his mobile phone. A man with a low voice said, “We have every word, sir. Hold a minute and we’ll triangulate a possible location.”

“Please be expeditious. I want this bastard picked up. If England still had beheading, I’d personally stick his bloody head atop a post on the London Bridge.”

“Sir—”

“Yes!”

“The call came from a disposable mobile near Orlando, Florida.”

“Is Randolph James there?”

“He’s standing next to me.”

“Put him on the line.”

“Mr. Prime Minister, we’re getting closer.”

“James, find this man and find him quickly. Send your best man or woman. Find this person and bring him here.”

The Jaguar slowed and stopped in front of the entrance to the House of Commons. Prime Minister Duncan Hannes looked out the car window toward a mob of news reporters gathered to meet him. At that moment, four months before his reelection bid, they looked more like a pack of wolves. He knew they were here to ask him questions about the video of the American who says he found and read the contract between England and the Confederate States of America.

“We’ll find him, sir.”

“James, after 160 years, why does this suddenly appear on my watch, and four months before the elections?”

“Sir, the American whose reported to have found the contract and the diamond was killed on a movie set. The local police are carrying out their investigation, but we suspect his death was probably murder.”

“Did I just speak with the man who killed him?”

“Most likely, sir. We will know for certain when we track him down. We have one of our best field agents on the hunt.”