I was signed in at the street entrance upon my arrival, then greeted by Alex Sinclair with some surprise on my part as it was quite late in the evening and he was often gone by that time.
We had first met on a previous case where he assisted with the breaking of a code that was critical to the inquiry case. Though he was quite young and not at all the stodgy sort, he was brilliant and always tinkering with some invention or another.
“I was asked to await your arrival and then immediately escort you to Sir Avery’s office,” he informed me.
“The telegram I received said that the matter was most urgent,” I commented in an attempt to learn something of the matter as we wound through the maze of corridors and passageways toward Sir Avery’s office.
He nodded as we continued down several steps and deeper below the main Tower.
“We have all be sworn to complete secrecy in the matter,” he commented over his shoulder in a quiet tone.
“Not only would we lose our positions, but it was made clear there would be even more ‘serious repercussions.’ I haven’t even spoken of it with Lucy.”
Lucy Penworth was my very good friend who had once worked at the Times of London newspaper and more recently at the Agency. In addition, she and Alex were in a ‘personal relationship.’
She was intelligent, most observant, and I could only imagine how difficult it might be to keep one’s work secret. And then there was Sir Avery.
He was from a titled family, a second son who had a distinguished military career, served in a handful of important posts, and was said to have acquired valuable experience and contacts abroad.
He had been chosen by the Queen to create a new and separate organization in the interest of protecting the Crown against clandestine threats. Hence, the Agency of Special Services.
We arrived at Sir Avery’s office, a surprisingly stark set of rooms considering his status, family, and background. It was further insight into a man who was said by those who worked for him—Alex for one—that he had no time for extravagances. His priority was to ‘get the job done,’ as it were.
Alex knocked at the door. There was a brief pause, then a response. He did not continue with me into the office, but stepped aside at the opened door. We exchanged a brief look. His expression mirrored that urgent message received at Old Lodge. He then left.
Sir Avery rose from behind the desk and greeted me. “So good of you to respond to my telegram, Lady Forsythe.”
As if it had been a social invitation instead of a summons. I would have pointed that out, however, the office door opened once more. Alex had returned.
“I beg your pardon, sir.” He would have announced the arrival of the person with him.
However, no announcement was necessary as Brodie stepped past him, then abruptly halted as that dark gaze met mine.
“Now that you are both here…” Sir Avery announced, then informed Alex that he could leave with instructions to escort the other ‘guest’ to the office as soon as he arrived.
Brodie was the first to recover, and equally surprised—actually angry might have better described his reaction.
“There seems to be a mistake…” he started to say.
Sir Avery cut him off. “No mistake. I have summoned you both here on a matter of grave importance. You are quite well recovered from your injuries, Mr. Brodie?”
“Aye, but there are matters ye may not be aware of. Miss Forsythe…”
There it was again, addressing me by my former name.
“She has only just returned after an extended time away and is not prepared to undertake any business on behalf of the Agency.”
While I didn’t care for the formality that he had used to mention me, I was somewhat in agreement with his excuse about my recent return to London.
Very well, I thought. Whatever Sir Avery had planned, I would simply decline.
“Sir Avery, I’m certain whatever the matter might be, Mr. Brodie is quite capable,” I attempted to explain.
What matter might that be? More counterfeit currency? Something pinched during a recent parade to celebrate the Queen’s birthday?
“Please be seated so that I may inform you of the matter at hand,” Sir Avery replied, undaunted by anything that either Brodie or I had to say.
I took a chair across the desk from Sir Avery. Brodie chose to remain standing, hands thrust into the pockets of his trousers, the expression on his face dark as thunder, as I had once heard someone described. It certainly was appropriate now.
