by David Archer
“A bit,” Hickam said. “I do hope the boy will be all right, I already sent word to him that I want to run his show. Bigger it gets, more subscribers I can sign up, especially out of the Yanks.”
Devon laughed. “Now, hadn’t thought of that,” he said. “Was that the plan, then? Have the boy shot, then use his program and all those new eyes on your advertising to boost your sales?”
Nobody else would’ve noticed it, but nobody else had spent so many years ferreting out the corruption in the royal court and parliament. It was Devon Chamberlain who had done that, for more than two decades as the star reporter of the Times’ government section. He learned early on to spot the flash of anger, the split second of shame, the tiny minute expressions that cross our faces when what we say is at direct odds with what’s in our minds.
Hickam flashed guilt for a split second, then anger, and then one more split second of fear. All of them passed so quickly that the card he dropped hadn’t even hit the table by the time they were all gone. His face was perfectly normal again, and the laugh that came from him sounded absolutely natural.
“Terrible thought,” he said. “Wish I’d thought it myself, and I might have to think of variations on that theme to use in the future, but this time it was nothing but dumb luck. Come now, Chamberpot,” he said, using the old nickname they’d given Devon when they were recruits. “D’ye truly think me capable of something so evil? I mean, I confess to a love of the filthy lucre, but you can’t truly believe I would stoop that low. Can you?”
Devon flashed him a middle finger. “Capable? Absolutely. Guilty of it? Now, that’s another whole matter. I am quite certain, however, that you will take advantage of any possible opportunity to make more of that ‘filthy lucre’ that you confess to being so fond of. Besides which, this would be beyond your intelligence.” He grinned at David Darwin. “Darwin might be smart enough, however. Perhaps he did it, just to help you out. After all, he does take a lot of your money in these little games.”
All four of them chuckled, as the cards continued to drop onto the table. They played until well after ten, and Devon finally ended up being the winner of the evening. He raked up his winnings, a total of four pounds fifty pence, and walked out to the lobby where Charles, his faithful companion, butler, and driver, was waiting.
*
It was nearly five by the time Denny’s phone rang, and he snatched it up instantly. “Cortlandt,” he said.
“Do you remember,” his uncle said, with just enough slurring in his voice to tell Denny that he’d been drinking, “just a few hours ago when you referred to yourself as my favorite nephew?”
“I do,” Denny replied.
“Well, consider yourself disowned,” Devon said. “I went to the Travellers Club with the full intent of coming back to tell you that there is absolutely no way my friend Ben Hickam could be involved in the crime of which you spoke. Unfortunately, I am forced to report to you that he is almost certainly guilty. I don’t mean that he actually fired the shot, but there is no doubt in my mind that he paid someone to do it. This is completely devastating to me, dear boy, because Ben and I have been friends since we were barely out of school. We joined the Navy on the same day, finished training together, served on the same bloody ship for three solid years, and each of us saved the other’s arse numerous times. Have you any idea what it does to me, tonight, to think that he could truly stoop so low as to condone the murder of a young man for no better reason than to try to make his business more money?”
“Uncle Devon,” Denny said, “I’m sorry. Can you tell me what makes you believe he did this?”
“Well, I’ve no evidence to give you,” Devon said. “All I’ve got is the certain knowledge. I jokingly accused him, and the guilt was written all over his face, though only for a brief second. Right after, he got angry, but then he got a little scared. I laughed it off, and assured him I didn’t actually believe any such thing. I even went so far as to accuse one of our other friends of doing it to try to help him out, just to make myself sound completely absurd, and I believe it worked. If I’m dead by morning, we shall both know that it didn’t.”
“Uncle, do you honestly think you might be in danger? I could…”
“Oh, of course not,” Devon said. “Even if he thinks I believe him guilty, he knows bloody well I couldn’t prove it. Ben Hickam is so much smarter than me that it would be like Albert Einstein being afraid of Forrest Gump. I’ve no intention of pursuing this matter, not in any way, but I promised you a report and so I’ve given it. Now, I’m going to stumble up to my bedroom and drink the rest of the bottle of bourbon that’s sitting there waiting for me. With any luck, I shall sleep until well after noon tomorrow, and won’t have to think about anything more complex than taking a piss until then. Good night, nephew. I hope you bloody sleep well, for I won’t.”
The line went dead and Denny replaced the handset. He sat there for a few seconds, then got up and walked toward Sam’s office.
Jenna was just picking her purse up off the desk as she prepared to leave.
“Is he in?” Denny asked.
“Yes, but he’s about to go home. Is it important?”
“Well, we’ll let him be the judge of that, shall we?” He walked past her and tapped on Sam’s office door.
“Come on in,” Sam called out.
Denny stepped through the door and shut it behind him, then sank into the chair in front of Sam’s desk once again.
Sam looked at him for a moment, then nodded. “I take it you heard from your uncle?”
“Too bloody right,” Denny said. “He says there’s no doubt in his mind that Ben Hickam, who owns Starbright, was some way or other behind this whole thing.”
“And you believe he’s correct?” Sam asked.
“Devon Chamberlain never once failed to spot when people were lying to him,” Denny said. “All the way up to the royal family, he could always tell when they were being untruthful. He knows the secrets that could literally destroy the royalty of Britain, and they bloody well know that he knows, but they also know that he’ll keep his mouth shut about them. If he says Hickam is guilty, then he’s guilty.”
Sam leaned back in his chair and looked at Denny for a moment. “How do we use this information, then?”
“We need to find a connection between Starbright and Reynard. There’s no doubt in my mind they work for him, but it’s going to be bloody hard to prove any link between the two.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “I need to go to London, boss. I need to get into Starbright and find that connection.”
“And how do you plan to do that?” Sam asked. “I mean, where would you even look?”
“Starbright is a bloody video company,” Denny said. “I’ve never been to their headquarters, but I’m certain it’s everything you’d imagine. They’re bound to have security cameras and such all around the place, and if they do, then there will be some trace of Reynard. He’ll show up on it, somewhere.”
Sam stared at him for a moment. “How would you get in?”
“That’s my specialty, Sam,” Denny said with a grin. “All I need to do is get into that building and find where they store their security treasures. If I’m wrong about that, there will still be something. I’ll get all of their phone records, steal Hickam’s cell phone, whatever I’ve got to do. That bloody bastard has to pay for this, Sam.”
“Denny, you seem a lot more upset now than you did when we talked earlier. What changed?”
“You want the truth? What changed was hearing the grief in my uncle’s voice. He and Ben Hickam have been friends for many years, since they first enlisted in the Royal Navy. You should have heard him, Sam. It’s like—it’s like his spirit was broken. Hickam needs to pay for having that boy shot, but he also needs to pay for betraying not only my uncle, but everyone who knows him. He’s considered one of the great philanthropists of the U.K., gives millions of dollars to charity and good works, but if he could stoop so low as to do this…”
&nbs
p; “Okay,” Sam said. “Okay, I get it.” He turned to his computer and started tapping on the keyboard. “I’m authorizing you to go to London. There will be a jet waiting for you at nine o’clock tonight, to take you to Heathrow. Denny, I want you to check in with me every day. If you get stuck on the security video or anything like that, I want you to call Indie. If you can figure out how she can get into their system, she can find anything they’ve got.”
Denny nodded. “Thank you, Sam,” he said. “I’ll get what we need, and get back here as soon as I can.”
“Wait a minute,” Sam said. “What happens if you get busted over there? How do we get you back out?”
Denny grinned, but there was no humor. “I’ve got friends over there,” he said. “And I’ve also got enemies. The nice thing about having enemies, in my old line of work, is that I know where an awful lot of bodies are buried. I won’t have any trouble getting free, if I run into a snag.”
“All right,” Sam said. “Just remember to talk to me every day. I want regular updates.”
“You’ll get them. I’ll find what you need to nail these bastards.”
He got up and walked out of Sam’s office, and Sam began shutting down his computer. He walked out the door a few moments later, got into the Mustang and headed for home, his mind racing around everything he had learned that day.
He parked the car beside the Honda Ridgeline that was their family vehicle and leaned on his cane as he walked up the steps. Some days, his hip made sure he remembered that it was bad, and this was one of those days. He walked in the door, and was surprised to find no one there to greet him.
“Indie?” He called out. “Where is everybody at?”
She stuck her head through the door from the kitchen, so that he could see her through the dining room. “Where you think I am? I’m making dinner. How was your day, babe?”
“It’s been interesting,” he said. “I just sent Denny off to London, to check out a new theory we’ve got on the motive behind the shooting. Turns out that the company has gained so much new traffic that the advertisers could end up making millions more dollars over it. Well, one of those advertisers is Starbright Streaming Service, out of London. Denny spoke to his uncle over there, who used to be an investigative reporter, and I guess the old man looked into it and is convinced that they are behind it. Denny is going over to infiltrate their headquarters, to see if he can find evidence. He’s probably going to be calling you, by the way.”
“No problems,” she said. “That’s what you guys pay me for, remember?”
Sam walked up behind her where she stood at the range and slipped his arms around her waist. She leaned back into him as he kissed her cheek, moaning happily.
“So, what’s for dinner?” Sam asked.
“I decided on something simple, tonight,” she said. “Spaghetti and meatballs. Your son and daughter have driven me crazy today, and I just need to take it easy for the evening.”
“I can certainly understand that,” Sam said. “Tell you what. I’ll even do the dishes tonight.”
She turned around in his arms and put her own around his neck. “That, Mister, will get you an even bigger surprise later tonight.”
20
The Gulfstream touched down at Heathrow at just before one PM, which was six AM back in Denver, and Denny picked up his bag and walked straight through the terminal. He found his way to the car rental kiosk and quickly selected a Jaguar F type, filled out the paperwork and swiped his company card, and took off into the city. He followed the M4 to North Circular Road, then turned north up to Wembley.
He took out his phone after he made the turn and called his uncle. Lord Chamberlain answered on the fourth ring.
“Lord Chamberlain’s residence,” he said. It was the way he always answered his phone at home.
“Uncle Devon,” Denny said. “I’m in the city, can we talk?”
“Well, that didn’t take you very bleeding long. I thought you’d be coming, but I didn’t expect you for another day or so. Do you realize, lad, that you have left an old man quite depressed?”
“I’m sorry about that, Uncle,” Denny said. “Right now, though, I’m a bit more concerned about your physical health than your mental. Where is a safe place we can meet up?”
“Is it absolutely necessary, Dennis? I’m actually somewhat inebriated at the moment. Seems to be the result of getting some terribly bad news last night.”
“Fine,” Denny said, “I’ll come by your house. Open the garage for me, I don’t want anyone to know I’m here just yet.”
“No. No, do not come here, I forbid it. I’ll have Charles drive me down to the Green Man. We can speak privately out in the smoking area outside, and you can get yourself a bloody room. How long till you can be there?”
Denny thought for a moment. “Probably twenty minutes. I’ll see you there.” He hung up the phone and put it back in his pocket.
He understood why his uncle was being hostile, but it didn’t help his mood any. The old man could well be in danger, although his assessment from the night before was probably fairly accurate. Hickam might guess that Devon suspected him of being involved in the shooting, but it had been eight years since Devon Chamberlain was active in any investigations. Hickam wouldn’t be worried that Devon could prove anything, and he could undoubtedly cast plenty of doubt on any accusations that might be made. If there’s one thing Devon Chamberlain would never stand for, it was being made to look like a fool; he’d keep his mouth shut about his suspicions, and since they were old friends, he’d probably never bother to look for any kind of proof.
Hickam had nothing to worry about. The only thing Denny worried about was whether Hickam understood that.
The Green Man Hotel is less than a mile from Wembley Stadium, and well known to many seasoned world travelers. Its pub is one of the finest in the area, providing the kind of food and atmosphere that both tourists and locals yearn for in a pub. The hotel is decent, though the rooms have rather plain furnishings and décor.
Devon was correct, however. With nothing exciting happening at the stadium, the hotel was only sparsely booked. Since smoking was not allowed inside, there was an outdoor smoking area set up that was even heated with fire pits maintained by the staff in the wintertime. Denny stopped at the bar for a glass of ale, then took it outside to wait for his uncle.
It wasn’t a long wait. Devon came walking up onto the covered porch a few minutes later, and sat beside him.
“Well?” The old man glared at him from the corner of his eye. “You’ve flown all the way across the bloody pond, I suppose to further ruin my life?”
“Uncle Devon,” Denny said, “would you rather have gone through life not knowing the truth?”
Devon spun his head to look straight at Denny’s face. “As opposed to learning that one of my dearest friends might be a murderer? Why, yes, I would’ve preferred to remain in ignorance. I realize you are only half a Chamberlain, since my sister married that bloody American wastrel who pretended to be your father, but I think you are fully aware of what the Chamberlain blood does to you. Do you know how we came by the name?”
Denny sighed. He had heard this particular discourse on numerous occasions when he was a child. “Yes, Uncle,” he said. “Your great-great-great-great-great-grandfather served as Chamberlain to Queen Victoria, and was knighted by her because of his unwavering dedication to seeking out the truth about her political enemies. Until she knighted him as Sir Reginald Chamberlain, his name was Reginald Higginbotham. All Chamberlains since then have devoted themselves to becoming investigators of one sort or another.”
“Exactly,” Devon said. “As much as I might like to pretend I don’t know what Ben has done, I simply cannot. Now that you have forced me to look at this awful truth in the eye, I must see that it is brought to light, and that my oldest and dearest friend is properly punished. In this case, since a murder on foreign soil orchestrated by a citizen of the Commonwealth for the purpose of corporate gain would
be certainly prosecuted as industrial espionage, Ben will face a high probability that he shall spend the rest of his life in prison.”
“And you don’t think he deserves such a penalty?”
“Of course he does. And when I find evidence of his guilt, it will undoubtedly be the fate that awaits him. My anger with you is due to the fact that I was happily ignorant of his guilt until less than twenty-four hours past. Now that you have thrust it in my face, I have no choice but to do whatever is necessary to see him charged and convicted.”
“Well, perhaps I can relieve you of that burden,” Denny said. “That’s the reason I’m here, Uncle. I’ve come to find that very evidence, so you’ll have no need of seeking it.”
The old man’s hand was lightning fast, and Denny barely managed to brace himself before it slapped him across the face.
“How dare you? How dare you come to me the way you did, make me confront an old friend with an accusation I had no reason to believe in, and then think you can simply waltz in here and put me at ease? Ben Hickam is my friend, and I am a Chamberlain. It is my duty to get to the truth.”
“I’m not disputing that, Uncle Devon. I’m only trying to tell you that you don’t have to do this alone. I was sent here to find the very evidence that you are looking for; I shall be more than happy to provide you with a complete copy of everything I find. I fully agree that it should be you who brings it to the government. My job is to produce the evidence to the prosecutor in Denver, which is where the crime itself took place.”
“What makes you think you can find such evidence? Ben is absolutely no fool, as evidenced by the fact that he has made billions of pounds. Do you think he would not have taken great pains to cover his involvement?”
“I’m quite certain he did,” Denny said. “I am also certain that evidence still exists. There are very few people who can truly do anything without leaving some trace of it to be found. This is especially true whenever money is involved, and there is no doubt in my mind that money changed hands. Somewhere, there exists a record of the transactions involved, and I intend to find it.”
