Page 57

Tommy’s flat

Carberry Street, near the Thames, London

Tuesday

Elizabeth’s heart was pounding as she pressed the bell beside the knocker.

They heard faint voices, then a man’s heavy step. The door opened and there stood a fit-looking stranger about her own age, dark skinned, dark eyed, clean shaven. He wore a slouchy gray sweatshirt, black jeans, and high-top sneakers on long narrow feet.

“Yes, that’s right,” Rome said.

Elizabeth introduced them. “Rome’s a special agent with the American FBI. And yes, I suppose he’s something like my bodyguard.”

Tommy grinned, waved his arms around. “My flat’s something, isn’t it? Mother picked it out, moved me in. When she visits she loves to sit by the window while we talk, look out over the Thames, and people-watch, I believe you say in the States. Please, sit down.”

Elizabeth, Rome thought, looked thrilled. She leaned back in the circle of his arms. “You look amazing, Tommy, just perfect.”

He kissed the tip of her nose, made her laugh.

Rome said, “We met a man at the front door who nearly ran past us.”

A drug dealer? Rome asked, “How did you meet him?”

He suddenly frowned. “How is Mother? Since I’m not welcome at Darlington Hall, I’ve only been able to speak with her on the phone. I haven’t seen her since Saturday night. She’s been too shaken up to drive back to London, and I doubt too Father would even consider letting her.”

Tommy shook his head, smiled. “There’s little else I can do. Let me get some tea, or something stronger, Agent Foxe?”

“Call me Rome. Tea would be very nice.”

“I’m sorry, Tommy. Father thought it was for the best. And I did too, it kept you safe.”

“Mother did tell me now about your three-month stay with that defense trainer, Hurley what’s his name.”

She laughed. “Just remember Hurley.”

Rome set down his teacup and leaned forward, his hands on his knees. “Why did you stop using, Tommy?”

Elizabeth nearly came to his defense, as she usually did for her brother from their earliest years, but she stayed silent.

Rome said, “I know how tough it is to stop cold turkey. It’s amazing, really. What are your plans?”

“That’s wonderful, Tommy.”

“Enough about me. Tell me about your three months with this Hurley fellow.”

Elizabeth did as he asked, answered all his questions about her life with Hurley, told him about the Roosevelt memorial, reminded him how their grandfather had worked with Churchill and met Roosevelt. She told him most everything except for her feelings for Rome. He asked so many questions that finally she threw up her hand. “That’s more than enough. I hate to leave you, dearest, but Rome and I have an appointment to see Mr. Eiserly, so we need to go. I’ll be back to see you soon.” She hugged him close, kissed his cheek. “I’m so proud of you. I can’t wait for all of us to sit down together to a magnificent feast at Darlington Hall.”