Disclaimer: I don't own the situations or characters portrayed herein. I'm just playing with them for a while.
Chapter Eight: Double Trouble
"We may have a problem, sir."
Timothy Barton-Brown set down his scotch and frowned. "What kind of problem?"
"It's Scarecrow, sir. He hasn't checked in this morning, and he didn't come home last night."
Ice cubes clinked gently as Barton-Brown swirled his glass and tutted. "Where was he?"
"With a woman from the Philanthropy Society. She's a well-known person there; I asked several people about her and they all agreed that she's been a part of the society for years. She's very well-heeled and well-connected."
"What's her name?"
"Evangeline Beaufort de la Zouch. I know it's an uncommon name, but I've done a thorough background check on her and she's absolutely legitimate."
Barton-Brown was still frowning. "I can't believe that Lee Stetson would go home with a woman. It isn't his style."
"Pardon me, sir, but it was his style once. He may be returning to old habits."
A vigorous shake of the head. "No. There is something about this that I don't trust. Get me a picture of this woman."
There was a moment's silence as Leonard Baynes dug through the briefcase at his side, then he handed the agency director the photo. Barton-Brown regarded it for a minute, tilting his head from side to side and examining it closely.
"This is his wife, Baynes. Surely you recognized her."
A slight cough escaped Baynes, and he answered deferentially. "Excuse me, sir. It was well-established that Mrs. Stetson was at home in Rockford when this picture was taken."
"How well-established?"
"A team of photographers was dispatched to the family home." More photos joined the previous one on the desk. "You can see Mrs. Stetson here in the window."
Barton-Brown's shoulders drooped. "So this woman at the philanthropy society. How is she presenting herself to Stetson?"
"I believe she has let him think that she is indeed his wife, sir."
A slow smile spread across the older man's face. "Has she? And he's let his guard down around her?"
"I would say definitely yes, sir."
"Very good. We can use this. Bring her in for questioning. Let her believe — let her believe that Mr. Stetson is a potential Russian contact. Let her believe that it is her patriotic duty to help us rather than him."
"Very good, sir."
An hour elapsed before there was a knock on the door again. Leonard Baynes entered, saying, "Mrs. Beaufort de la Zouch, sir."
She was a striking woman, white-haired with big brown eyes and a mouth that found it easier to smile than to frown. Her resemblance to Mrs. Stetson was uncanny; she might have been her twin.
"Welcome, ma'am," Barton-Brown said. "We hope you will be able to help us."
