Chapter Twenty-Six #2
Grime clouded the glass, and it took Sidney’s eyes a moment to adjust to the amber-hued light.
But then he saw it: a large, distinct shadow in the corner of the room, wrestling with something on the floor.
In the woods, Sidney might have thought it was a ravenous bear; in a darkened house, it looked like a desperate man, and adrenaline spiked through him.
“If the door’s unlocked, we might surprise him. I wonder if Hughes is armed.”
“Oh.” Ginevra pulled back her coat, revealing a holster affixed to her belt. A small gun glinted under the thinning cloud cover. “I brought my mother’s pistol.”
“Do you know how to shoot it?”
“Chess and target practice were Mother’s favorite activities.” She hesitated. “My aim might be a bit rusty, though.”
“Consider it a last resort then.” Sidney peered back inside. The shadow was still in the corner, and they were growing more visible outside the window as the clouds drew back from the moon. They needed to move in or retreat, and Sidney’s gut said now was the time to strike.
The next window was slightly ajar, angled into the garden two inches more than its mate. Likely a broken latch, but it opened silently, revealing an unfurnished room. Gingerly, Sidney threw one leg inside and clambered over, then offered Gin a hand up.
The sound of muttered curses grew louder in the next room.
Sidney tiptoed toward the half-open door, and Gin removed the gun from its holster.
Leland crouched with his back to them, rummaging through the cabinet beneath the sink.
At a nod from Ginevra, Sidney flung the door open and charged.
The professor started to turn, and Sidney threw himself against his back, pulling the crook of his elbow up under the man’s chin.
Leland stumbled, falling to the floor, and Sidney bore down with all his weight. “Find something to tie him up!”
Gin hurried into the room and laid the gun on the counter, hitting the light switch for the bulb over the sink.
It flickered on, casting a pale circle of light, and she snatched an apron hanging on the wall.
Sidney released his chokehold and wrangled Leland’s arms behind his back, and Gin knelt and tied the professor’s hands with the strings.
“The feet too,” Sidney grunted, straining to keep Leland still.
Gin threw open drawers, rifling through them like a madwoman until she emerged triumphant with twine and scissors.
Leland lifted his chin, spluttering. “Ginevra? Braithwaite? Untie me, you fools.”
Ginevra wound the entire ball of twine around his ankles and patted her intricate knots. “I used to complain about Mother’s knot-tying lessons, but she was quite prescient. Much more useful than embroidery.”
“Your mum was an odd duck.”
Gin snorted, offering Sidney a hand up, and he stiffly clambered off Leland’s haunches.
Quickly, he rifled through the professor’s pockets, checking for a weapon, but they were empty apart from a crumpled piece of paper.
It was almost comical to see Leland trussed with the polka-dot apron and twine, but the angry set of his jaw against the peeling linoleum made Sidney wary.
“Let me go, damn you,” Leland raged. He wriggled sideways, bound feet flailing like a lobster tail. “It’s Craddock’s word against mine. I’ll have you both expelled when this blows over.”
“Vosburg is the least of your problems, Professor,” Gin said. “The Security Service is aware of your new side business.”
Leland spluttered. “What side business?”
There was a loud thump from the corner behind the kitchen table. Marion scooted into view, bound and gagged.
Gin gasped and darted toward the girl. “Sidney, the scissors!”
“Don’t let her go, you idiot!” Furiously, Leland wriggled around to glare at Gin, and Sidney was forced to step across him to hand her the scissors. “She broke in here and attacked me.”
The rage brewing in the girl’s eyes made Sidney hesitate. He didn’t really want something sharp anywhere near her in such a state, but he knew it was unfair. She had every right to be furious with the professor.
Gin pulled down the gag, and Marion let out an angry snarl. “I wasn’t taking any chances. Not after he shot Braithwaite.”
Leland glared at her. “That was an accident. I was merely warning you—”
“You were trying to shoot me.” Marion jerked free of the bindings as Gin cut them, and she threw them in Leland’s face.
Sidney stepped between the pair before another fight erupted. “The police will be here shortly, Professor. You might as well give up.”
Leland blanched and fell limp against the floor.
“Pathetic,” Marion spat at him. “I hope you never see the light of day again.”
She turned toward the rain-streaked window, and Sidney sank back. The crumpled paper from Leland’s pocket was still clutched in his hand, and he smoothed it.
IMMEDIATE REMOVAL REQUIRED.
It was likely a message Leland was sending to his KGB contacts.
Exfiltration was common enough for valuable spies, but it required a lot of planning and infrastructure and risk.
It was hard to believe Leland was a high-priority asset—but to his own ego, doubtless he thought the Russians would save him in two ticks.
It was odd that he hadn’t encoded it, though; or maybe he hadn’t gotten that far. But as Sidney studied the message, something niggled at the back of his mind. He brought it closer to the light, studying the handwriting more closely, and a cold feeling ebbed through him.
Leland could not have written that message.
“Gin,” he said in an undertone. “Come look at this.” She crossed the kitchen, and he shoved the message into her hand. “That was in Leland’s pocket, the same suit he wore to the party. But see how the letters are formed—”
There was a sharp knock at the back door, and Sidney whirled. A face pressed to the kitchen door’s window, peering through the rain-smudged glass. But it was neither Hughes nor the Rook nor the police.
It was Dr. Neville.