Page 78 of The Final Vow (Washington Poe #7)

Later that day

Highwood, Northumberland

The Council of Highwood. That’s what Bradshaw had named the meeting that Poe had called. He’d told her it was the only The Lord of the Rings reference she was allowed.

He had started thinking about what to do as soon as he was out of the Rubicon, even before Doctor Gray had dressed the pen wound Bethany Bowman had inflicted on him.

It was superficial anyway. Lots of blood but not much tissue damage.

It would leave a nice scar, but so what?

He had lots of scars, what was one more?

He’d gone to Bettys Café Tea Rooms to collect his thoughts. Hadn’t wanted to be too distracted on the drive back to Highwood. And over a plate of pan-fried Swiss rosti – grated potato, Gruyère cheese, cream, bacon and a poached egg – and a pot of tea, he’d formed an idea.

He called Locke first. Told the spook he needed to drop whatever it was he was doing and hightail it up to Northumberland.

Locke didn’t ask why, he simply called for his assistant.

Asked him to arrange transport. Poe spoke to Flynn next.

Told her what he was planning. She wasn’t happy.

He also called the Met’s new senior investigating officer, Commander Charles Unsworth.

Told him some of what he planned to do. Unsworth had wanted in on the meeting, but Poe had said it was a courtesy call only.

He didn’t want him in the meeting. The less he knew the better.

Doyle had said she’d make herself scarce, but Poe stopped her. ‘This concerns everyone,’ he said.

‘Even me?’

‘ Especially you.’

‘Wait until he tells you this whack-a-doodle plan of his, Estelle,’ Flynn said when she arrived. ‘You’re going to love it.’

Locke had the furthest to travel. While they waited, Doyle said, ‘How was Clara?’

‘Auditioning for The Spy Who Loved Me ,’ Poe replied. ‘Her teeth are now deadlier than that idiot Bond villain’s, the one with the metal mouth.’

Doyle frowned. ‘I think you’d better explain.’

Poe did.

When he’d finished, Doyle said, ‘Oh, that poor girl.’

‘Will she ever get better, Poe?’ Bradshaw asked.

‘I think so, Tilly,’ Poe said. ‘But she needs to feel safe first. Only then will her doctors be able to talk to both sides of her. And weirdly, filing her teeth into razors might work in her favour. It meant Moulsford was finally able to access the Home Office funding they needed to make her part of the hospital secure.’

They settled into a tea and biscuit-filled silence. After fifteen minutes, Flynn couldn’t stand it any more. ‘Exactly what did Clara fucking Lang tell you, Poe?’ she snapped.

‘She asked who I would run into a burning building for.’

Poe didn’t get a chance to elaborate. The sound of a helicopter landing drowned out any further conversation.

Alastor Locke had arrived.