“The Home Secretary is presently scheduled to meet in the House of Commons,” the clerk informed us.
“I don’t care if he’s meeting with the Queen,” Alex replied. “You’re to send for him now! Or there may well be no Parliament. Is that clear?”
We were asked to stand apart as I wondered where Redstone was and what had been planned.
Eventually Secretary Mathews, the Home Secretary, appeared, quite agitated.
“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.
Alex pulled him aside and quickly explained the reason we were there. Secretary Mathews looked up with a tight expression.
“I know Sir Avery quite well,” he said. Then asked, “Where did you last see Redstone?”
“Crossing the green and then at the entrance,” I replied. “He disappeared inside. And there is a man that is also part of this— Dimitri Soropkin.”
By the expression on his face, he obviously knew of Soropkin. He immediately went and questioned the clerk, then returned.
“There is no note of Redstone’s arrival. If, as you say, he managed to get past the desk, he could be anywhere.” The Home Secretary looked at Alex.
“You’re certain about the threat?”
“Most certain,” he replied.
I explained how Sir James might have been able to gain entrance without being questioned or required to sign in.
“He’s to be the guest of Sir Robert Crosswhite by special invitation.”
The enormity of the threat was not lost on the Home Secretary. He motioned to the officer who had accompanied him.
“You are to take Mr. Sinclair and Miss Forsythe to the office presently occupied by the Prime Minister and remain there. Go quickly and as quietly as possible,” he added. “We need to clear everyone from the building, and I don’t want people in a panic situation. Is that understood?”
He intended to clear as many people as possible from Parliament. A daunting task to be certain. And the amount of time that would take? Surely Redstone and Soropkin would take notice. What then?
Alex took me by the arm, and we followed our escort down the Commons hallway to the offices in the adjacent passageway where there were more offices along with that private office that had been set apart for Lord Salisbury.
The officer knocked at the door then opened it. “There is a situation, sir,” he announced as we entered the office.
“The Home Secretary has asked that you remain here. These people will explain.”
“We’ve uncovered a situation, sir, that could be extremely dangerous,” Alex then went on to tell the Prime Minister.
“There is the possibility of an attack against you as well as the members of Parliament. Precautions are being taken,” he continued.
I saw the faint twitch at the corner of Lord Salisbury’s eyes, the way the light from the overhead chandelier gleamed almost unnaturally on his forehead and cheeks above his side whiskers.
There was something different about the man I had encountered briefly in the past at a handful of society functions that I was unable to avoid with one excuse or another.
“I see,” Salisbury curtly replied with amazing calm, then a glance at the uniformed officer who had accompanied us.
“I must leave,” he suddenly announced, and headed for the door.
“Sir! I must protest! It could be extremely dangerous…” Alex moved to stop him with a hand on his arm.
As the Prime Minister reached the door, the sleeve of his coat pulled back ever so slightly at his wrist.
He immediately pulled it back into place and would have insisted on opening the door. Alex stopped him.
The Prime Minister’s gaze abruptly met mine. He knew what I had seen.
