“Yes, the cell keeper just now rang up on my sugar canister to inform me of that,” Mrs. Kew said. “Shocking business! A perfectly good fire extinguisher, ruined! I had Snodgrass investigated when he signed himself onto your mission without authorization, but I’d never have guessed he held such extreme intentions. Luckily our crack team of intelligence analysts managed to locate his diary.”
“Hm, hm,” Hazel Coombley said, nodding sagely.
“Where was it?” Alice asked.
“Lying open on his desk,” Mrs. Kew said, “containing a note scribbled in red pen: ‘I shall blow them all up on the ninth of November in London!’ Our analysts decoded this moments before the diary self-destructed! (Or had tea spilled all over it, I’m still not sure of the exact story there.)”
“Amazing detective work,” Hazel murmured, her voice breathy.
“It’s unfortunate that my efforts to advise you over the shoe-telephone did not work,” Mrs. Kew continued. “Obviously someone in the lab was a loafer on the day they set that incantation—once we find out who, we’ll give them the boot—but you saved the day nonetheless. And you may also be sure Snodgrass will get what he deserves.”
“Several years in prison,” Alice suggested, remembering Daniel leaping for the cottage and almost missing. She struggled not to tap a finger against the teacup.
“Several years!” Mrs. Kew exclaimed. “No, such genius as his cannot go to waste! He will be receiving a promotion—perhaps even a medal!”
“Hm,” Alice said without inflection.
“You are holding that cup very stiffly,” Hazel noted. “What is happening for you right now? This is a safe space for you to express your feelings.”
Alice repressed a laugh at that. Hazel’s concern for her was as well-polished as a pirate’s sword and just as deadly. She lifted the cup to her lips, then set it back into its saucer with an entirely reasonable, not-worth-analyzingclink. But Hazel smirked, no doubt interpreting her entire psyche from that one small sound.
“The job has been concluded in a very tidy fashion, as always,” Mrs. Kew said. “Well done, Agent A dear! You continue to be my star! I am certain there will be a bonus in your next pay packet! Having said that...” She shrugged apologetically, but her eyes were sharply focused, and Alice did not dare move for fear of being impaled by a direct question. “V-2 did feel you and Agent B might be struggling somewhat with the, uh,interesting particularsof the mission.”
“I assure you we were not,” Alice replied. “V-2 is a junior and not as perceptive as she believes.”
“Well... I would not describe V-2 as ajunior, per se.”
“Oh?” Alice inquired with a tranquility that belied the sudden shuddering of her pulse as instincts, secrets, and wishes began urgently packing suitcases and consulting maps for getting the hell out of her brain.
Mrs. Kew winced. “She may be—just a little bit—our best assessor. Watches agents, checks they are obeying the rules, runs secrettests to reveal any flaws that may become an impediment to them doing their job properly.”
“I see,” Alice said, thinking of Veronica encouraging her and Daniel to share the bed, trying to make them waltz, talking about his golden gun...
Her stomach lurched. Hazel leaned forward slightly as if she could sense it.
“V-2 reports that you and Agent B clung to each other quite a bit?” Mrs. Kew winced for having to even mention it.
“Our disguise was a married couple,” Alice said. “It naturally required some clinging.”
“And last night you disappeared—”
“Hid from the pirates threatening to ransom us.”
“—and returned in the morningslightly disheveled.”
“Hmmm,” Hazel said, fascination tugging at her lips, and Alice almost threw the teacup at her.
“Of course, it is nothing,” Mrs. Kew said with a loose shrug, even as her gaze tightened. “I am fully confident you and Agent B didn’t contravene any regulations. After all, you are no silly, emotional fool, following her heart at the risk of serious consequences. You are a professional.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Alice said.
“You would never behave in a manner contrary to the agency’s Code of Conduct.”
“No, ma’am.”
“Because this is a thriller, not a romance, isn’t that so, Agent A?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
