Chapter 27
Astrid
The idea of sleeping tonight is almost laughable as I settle on my sofa with a cup of tea and my notebook full of everything I’ve found in my investigation so far.
To sleep, I would need to stop thinking, and that’s impossible when my head is filled with questions I don’t have answers to.
I have no clue where to start in solving the note given to the prince, and I still haven’t fully recovered from the shift in Blackmere’s demeanor.
Whatever notification he got on his phone, it made him switch from vague to direct. Was it the same thing that got the other lords talking? I should have pushed for him to tell me more. I should have asked him which side he was on. I should have…
I sigh. What I really should have done was ask the prince to stay here tonight instead of going back to the palace.
Distracting though he is, I think better when he’s around, and already my head is starting to pound as I add the letters and numbers from the card to a blank sheet in my notebook.
I’ve been gathering information about the anti-royalists for a year now, and it feels like I’m no further than I was at the start.
At least with the prince helping me, I might’ve gained actual ground.
No matter how much I wanted him to stay, though, I sent him home because he still looks exhausted, like he slept as well as I did last night. As in not at all. And at least one of us should be at full capacity if we’re going to figure this out. Might as well be him.
Just as I set pen to paper, ready to figure out this code, someone knocks on my door.
I check the security camera on my phone, but there’s no one there.
Warily, I grab my gun, holding it behind my back as I inch the door open and look out onto the stoop.
A white, unmarked envelope sits there, stark against the damp pavement.
It’s identical to the one left in the prince’s pocket tonight.
The street is dark and quiet, but I get the feeling I’m being watched.
I really don’t like that feeling.
My heart pounds as I gingerly pick the envelope up, more careful with this one than I was with the last. There could be fingerprints, or a dangerous substance inside.
While that’s doubtful, I’m a lot more cautious than I was at the theater as I close the door and open the envelope, slipping the card out.
Like the last one, there’s nothing but a string of letters and numbers written on the card.
E T M E 2 1 6 B N S R E 2 0 M O E L N
“Great,” I mutter as I return to the sofa. I add the new letters below the first ones and stare at them, begging my tired brain to comprehend what I’m looking at.
S P E B R 0 4 1 O D T E T 0 A C M A O E
E T M E 2 1 6 B N S R E 2 0 M O E L N
Twenty characters in the first one. Nineteen in the second.
Thirty letters, nine numbers. There’s no pattern between the letters and numbers, and trying to switch the numbers to letters and vice versa doesn’t give me anything useful.
With dozens of possible ciphers, I don’t know where to start, but I might as well try to…
I blink, focusing on the first groupings of letters in both lines together. Could it be that easy? I start rewriting the lines, alternating one letter from the first to one from the second and back again because yes. It is that easy.
SEPTEMBER 20 1461 BOND STREET 200AM COME ALONE
I curse under my breath. That’s in just a few hours.
Virek can’t deny I’m on the right track now if I take this to him.
Though a part of me knows there’s a high chance my supervisor will still shut me down, this is too big for me to take chances.
With the amount of money Callum has tracked, which likely isn’t all of it, the anti-royalists could be well-armed.
They’re almost certainly well-manned. We need a team behind us in case things take a turn for the worse, and we don’t have much time to prepare for whatever we’re up against.
Sneaking out my back door, I head to the office on a roundabout route to make sure I’m not followed.
It’s almost ten, but Virek is likely still at the office after what Callum found in Lord Vardane’s financials.
Virek has his problems, but he’s not one to sit on something like that.
He’ll want to jump on this chance to catch his villain, not knowing things might already be in motion.
With my heart racing and my thoughts spinning, I think through what the prince and I might have been invited to as I make my way through the dark streets.
It could be the Vardanes officially revealing their part as the nobles funding the anti-royalist movement.
It could be Blackmere deciding to unleash his dastardly plan as the mastermind.
It could be the antis themselves, actively bringing us into their cause.
It could be a trap.
That last one is more likely than I want it to be, which is exactly why I need Virek to back me on this.
Headquarters are buzzing with activity when I arrive, despite the late hour.
Multiple agents are on the phone, a few surround a large screen showing a picture of Lord Vardane and a lot of numbers and figures, and Virek is deep in conversation with two agents in street clothes who look like they’re ready to start up a tail.
My boss doesn’t look happy, and he’s far less likely to listen to me if he’s in a bad mood.
But he has to.
Ignoring the sting of being left out of the action, I search for Callum and find him hard at work at his computer. I glance at Virek to make sure he’s as yet unaware that I’m here, then dart over to Callum’s desk and pull a chair up.
“What’s happening?” I ask.
He doesn’t look away from what he’s typing. “Gathering enough evidence to indict Lord Vardane.”
Lord Vardane. Callum doesn’t use titles, so his specificity is telling. “But Lady Vardane is as much an issue as her husband.”
Callum snorts a humorous laugh. “Try telling Virek that and see where it gets you. Kennewick has been following Vardane all day, and there are signs he might flee the country. Lady V is still enjoying herself at the symphony.”
Kennewick is a good agent, so I can’t argue against whatever signs he saw while tailing Lord Vardane.
Neither can I decide if that means Vardane is guilty or if he caught on to what his wife is doing.
“What about all the communications between the members of the House of Lords tonight?” I ask, shifting my chair closer.
Callum leans around his computer to check on Virek before he meets my gaze. “Since we can’t hack all of their mobiles, we have no idea what they’ve been saying to each other. I suggested we follow a few of them from the theater and try to listen in, but…”
I sigh. “But Virek thinks he already has the answer.”
“He’s partially right.” Callum frowns, studying me closely. “You have something.”
I hand him my notebook, as well as the card I received. “The prince got the other half.”
“‘The prince’,” Callum repeats and smirks, though I don’t want to think about why.
“Bond Street,” he murmurs as he types in the address.
He squints at the search result, then pulls up another window and starts diving deeper.
“Building is owned by a non-profit,” he says with a frown.
“Some sort of co-op. Anyone can rent it, and we’d need a warrant to get a list of who’s rented recently. ”
I swear under my breath. To get a warrant, I’d need Virek’s approval, and the chances of his compliance are abysmally low. As are the chances of getting any useful information in the next few hours even if he agreed.
“Handwritten,” Callum mutters, bringing the card close to his face as he studies the inked letters. “I’ve always said that the best way to go untraced is to go old school.”
“I have never heard you say that,” I say, but now my thoughts are spinning again. I start talking out loud, hoping Callum can help me piece everything together. “We’ve been trying to track the anti-royalists for nearly a year now, but we’ve only found hints and shadows.”
“There’s no substantial chatter online,” Callum agrees.
“The only paper trail we’ve found has been the money coming from the nobility. Even then, we didn’t get any closer to the anti-royalists until we went right to the source and started listening to in-person conversations.”
“No phone calls.” Callum looks at me thoughtfully. “No texts. They’ve been using events like Fennor’s retreats to make contact with each other.”
“It’s all been word of mouth.”
“But tonight the Lords were using phones,” Callum says.
“So it’s likely that none of them are involved.
Could something with the anti-royalist movement have leaked, and they’re spreading the word to defend themselves?
” My heart starts beating faster. “We were tested tonight, and I thought that was why we got the invitations. But what if things are in motion because they have to be?”
“Because information got out that shouldn’t have. What test?”
I quickly fill Callum in on what happened at the symphony, from Blackmere’s conversation to the prince protecting me. “Do you have a way to see where the communications started among the members of Lords?” I ask.
“Storme!”
At Virek’s shout, the whole office goes still.
I look up, wincing when I realize I’m not as hidden by Callum’s screens as I thought. Standing up, I lift my head high and try to sound calm as I say, “Good evening, sir.”
His eye twitches as he clenches his jaw tight. With a wave, he sends the two agents he was talking to to the door, then jerks his head toward his office and stalks inside.
Callum wordlessly hands me my notebook and the invitation and hunches his shoulders as he returns to whatever he was doing before I turned up.
At least now I have the invitation to prove that I’m on to something, but I’m not sure it will be enough.
By the time I reach Virek’s office, my stomach has twisted itself into a knot. Virek doesn’t look much better than I feel, leaning his hands on his desk and breathing heavily. When I close the door behind me, he looks up, pinching his eyebrows together. “Why are you here?”
“Because I have information I need to—”
“Storme. When I took you off the investigation, that wasn’t a suggestion. What part did you not understand? First you go to the symphony, and now you—”
“Prince Hendrik and I have been invited into the inner circle of the anti-royalists.” No, I don’t know that for certain, but it’s the only thing that will get Virek to listen. I toss the envelope onto his desk.
Staring at it, he flicks it open with one hand and looks at the characters written on the card. “Are you joking?” he growls.
I set my notebook down as well. “The prince received one as well, and his—”
“Storme!” He pounds a fist on the notebook. “We’re on the cusp of putting this madness to rest, and you come in here with a few bloody letters that mean nothing and expect me to listen to you?”
I clench my hands into fists. “You’re chasing a distraction, Virek. Can’t you see that?”
“Did you ever consider that this elaborate plot you’re chasing is the distraction?
” Virek fixes his hard gaze on me, looking as weary as he is determined.
“Storme, listen to yourself. You’ve been sipping champagne and going to symphonies while pretending to date a frivolous prince who wouldn’t have given you the time of day if you hadn’t pulled him into all this, and not once has anyone presented solid evidence that they’re an anti-royalist supporter. Not even Alaric Blackmere.”
No matter how hard I try to come up with something, I can’t argue his point. My gut says tonight’s meeting is important, but I have nothing that can prove it.
For all I know, we were invited to a surprise birthday party.
“But something is going to happen this week.” My words come out weak. “The anti-royalists are going to—”
“What?” He narrows his eyes, staring me down.
“They’re going to do what, Storme? We’ve been tracking hundreds of thousands of euros, and how much of that has gone to weapon sales or bribes or mercenaries or anything that suggests the anti-royalists will have the means to stage a coup in the next few days? ”
I swallow.
“Give me one concrete piece of evidence, Storme,” Virek says with a shake of his head, and my stomach clenches.
“Anything more than a few words on a piece of paper. Give me the name of someone you know without a doubt is part of the anti-royalist movement, and I’ll give you whatever resources you want to hunt them down.
Show me that the money has been used. Prove to me that Candora is in danger, and we’ll protect her. ”
Heart sinking, I sit there in silence.
Sighing, he straightens to his full height and pinches his nose.
“You’re a decent agent, Storme, but when are you going to accept that you’re not the one in charge?
You’re seeing something in the shadows because you want it to be there.
” He grimaces and doesn’t meet my gaze as he says this next part.
“Director Torvik will be back in Candora in the next couple of days, and I’m requesting that he put you on temporary leave. You need to cool off.”
I gape at him. Temporary leave? “I don’t—”
“You’re already on suspension, Storme! Don’t get yourself into even more trouble.”
The air slides out my lungs in a shaky exhale, and I sink into a chair as my strength leaves me.
Maybe I am chasing shadows. I’ve been so desperate to prove myself that there’s the chance that I’ve been clinging to any hint I can find that I’m right.
But if I was right, wouldn’t it be more obvious?
Each clue would lead to the next and fit into the puzzle like it’s supposed to, but there’s still so much I don’t know.
What if I’ve been wrong about everything?
“I’m going to stop this, Storme,” Virek says, more gentle than he’s ever been, and yet his words slice me to the bone.
“We start by cutting off the money, and then we use Vardane to root out the leaders of the anti-royalists and put them behind bars before they hurt anyone. There’s a process, and if we don’t follow it, that’s when we get into trouble.
” He clenches his jaw. “I know you know better.”
Swallowing, I drop my eyes to the floor and nod. “Yes, sir.”
He sighs again. “Stay out of the way so we can get this done. Your phone is already disconnected from the network until all of this is over, so keep your head down and stay in line. Understood?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He strides out of the room, leaving me alone.
And I feel like the ground has disappeared right from under my feet, leaving me with nothing left to stand on.