Mrs. Peel collapsed, exhausted, onto her sofa. If she hadn't known the Russian better, she would have suspected that he had been leading her on a wild goose chase.
The telephone buzzed loudly, and Mrs. Peel groaned loudly before picking up the receiver. "Hello, Steed," she sighed.

"Mrs. Peel, glad you're home," he answered. "Now, what did Brodny do today?"

"How long do you have," Mrs. Peel retorted.

************************************************************************

Brodny walked into the Russian Embassy, glancing nervously around. Spies always made him nervous; rather ironic considering his chosen career. He knocked on an unmarked door, which opened just wide enough to admit Brodny. He squeezed through.

"Where the devil are my effects," a very British voice demanded.

"I could not get them," Brodny admitted, trembling. 'Steed and Mrs. Peel were already there. I'm so sorry, Mr. Biddle."

B. Boris Biddle snorted. "Steed, eh? Probably followed you."

"Oh no, I would have noticed Steed," Brodny hastened to assure him. "He's not very subtle, and he stands out in a crowd."

"Probably had Mrs. Peel follow you, then."

Brodny looked indignant. "Oh no, it is not possible. All right," he amended. "It is possible, but, yes it's possible and probable." He paused, then realizing what he said, he hurriedly added, "Not probable that I didn't notice her. No, that is definitely imp-"

Biddle looked disgusted. "You're excused Brodny."

************************************************************************

"So Brodny went all over the city yesterday?"

Mrs. Peel nodded. "He went to a clothing store, and a tea shop, and a department store." She paused, deciding to try a little bit of trickery of her own. "Maybe he should be followed again, today. There may be some clue that I overlooked."
"Knowing Brodny," Steed sat down on the couch next to Mrs. Peel, "And knowing you as well as I do, I very much doubt it. While you were racing all over London, I dug up some information."

"And," Mrs. Peel questioned, curling her legs up towards her body. "How are the men related?"

Steed smirked. "All of the men killed, with the exception of B. Boris Biddle, were involved in Secret Project X."

"Secret Project X? Wasn't that the one where-"

"No," Steed cut her off. "That was Project 90."

"Oh yes. Well then, what was Secret Project X?"

"It was a program testing Einstein's theory of space."

"You mean the theory that you can rumple space up like a rug and jump over the wrinkles," Mrs. Peel raised an eyebrow.

"Exactly. There are six more scientists involved in the project who are still alive."

"And Frederick R. Whitley," she questioned.

"As head of Counter-Counter Espionage he had to make sure 'they' didn't get hold of what we were doing." Steed thought for a moment. "I believe he fed them some line about x-ray contact lenses."

Mrs. Peel gave Steed an innocent look. "And I suppose they never existed in the first place?"

"Can't tell you that," he answered. "Hush-hush." He turned to leave. "Shall we go check out the first scientist on the list?"

Mrs. Peel nodded, reluctantly rising from the sofa.