Ann Tinney spoke up again. “By the way, I’ve just had a call from the State Department personnel office across the street. Harry Tate showed up there a couple of minutes ago and confiscated a woman’s Burberry raincoat found in the rubble of the office. I thought you’d like to know.” She closed the door.
“Raincoat?” Lance asked.
“Jasmine’s,” Stone replied. “The witness mentioned it.”
“Oh, let Special Branch paw the thing for a couple of days,” Felicity said. “Maybe they’ll come up with a strand of DNA or a receipt with Jasmine’s home address on it. If they do, the rest of us will hear about it in a week or two.”
“You’re in fine form, Felicity,” Stone said, smiling. “What have you been up to?”
“I’ve been stacking sandbags in front of my service’s building all day,” Felicity replied dryly.
“Personally?” Lance asked.
“Figuratively. I reckon we’re next. I’m traveling in the FO’s upholstered version of a Bentley armored personnel carrier. I don’t like hunkering down and waiting—I’d prefer to be combing the hedgerows for her myself.”
“I can just see that,” Stone said.
“What are you lot doing, then?” she asked. “And is it possible to obtain a cup of tea in this establishment that didn’t come in a bag?”
As if on cue, Ann Tinney opened the door and entered with a tray containing a china teapot and matching cups. “May I pour for everyone?”
“Almost everyone,” Lance said.
Ann poured.
Felicity tasted her tea cautiously. “Ah, Fortnum’s Earl Grey,” she said. “Thank you, Mummy.”
“To answer your first question,” Lance said, “we’re doing pretty much what you’re doing.”
“Stacking sandbags?”
“A little late for that, but we’re under the same investigative strictures your service is.”
“I dislike strictures,” Felicity said.
“Well, Architect, we’re flattered that you’ve ventured out onto the streets to come and see us,” Lance said. “Now, what may the government of the United States do for you?”
“Let your worldwide network of stations know that Jasmine Shazaz is in the wind. That’s what I’ve ordered done, and we could use the help.”
“You think she’s left the country?” Holly asked.
“It’s what I would do,” Felicity replied. “It’s better than living in a spider hole.”
“Any thoughts on where she might have gone?”
“Langley, Virginia, I expect.”
Holly and Lance looked at each other.
“She’s out for revenge, isn’t she?” Felicity asked, rhetorically. “And she’s made a start. She’s too hot to continue here. She’ll be looking for something to blow up where she’s not expected.”
“Thank you for that wisdom, Architect,” Lance said. “Now I’m going to curl up on that sofa over there and sleep for an hour, then I will start acting on Holly’s personnel recommendations. They were very good, Holly, I am in complete agreement. Now you and Stone go to a matinee, or something.”
“Good idea,” Holly said.
“The Gulfstream is arriving tonight with a couple of other people. The two of you can take it back to New York tomorrow morning.”
“I’m relieved, then?”