Chapter 18

Queen Mary's men had been watching the activity around her decoy on her orders from the moment the Scotswoman had entered London. She had been in constant company the whole time. The redheaded woman they knew was an active British agent. There had also been Phileas Fogg, coming in and out at intervals. He was supposed to be in her company, to be beguiled.

But then the decoy's relatives from Scotland arrived. That had complicated things. They now had two sets of people to watch out for, and themselves. The Scots had learned of their presence had tried to catch them several times.

Then things got truly complicated. The two factions were trading information. The old man had gone to Fogg's home late one evening and had stayed for over an hour. Days later, Fogg tried to sneak up on them. All this had been reported to the queen.

Then, after a second meeting with the old man, Fogg took the decoy to lunch. Both sides later joined them, talking together for far too long.

Now Fogg and the Scottish Earl were getting chummy. They had the dress shop where the decoy was together. Five had left that establishment in separate carriages but traveled to the same destination.

Learning about these developments, Queen Mary was furious. Despite all the trouble she had gone to implicating the decoy, the woman seemed to get rallied around. Well, she has been so useful to me for just this reason. She is just too innocent to be believed of any wrongdoing.

So, painting her black wasn't working, planting information on her dead body will be useless. And what plans are the Scots and the Secret Service hatching together?

Mary sent a note to her informant, who watched the girl from the inside. On arrival, however, her informant was rebuffed. That was bad news. They are playing it close.

Martin arrived as her friend left. He came in and stood waiting to be acknowledged. Mary looked at him. "If I continue, all my couriers might be picked up and my information lost. There are only two days before the Embassy ball. I will not let all I have set up be destroyed. I may have to cancel deliveries."

"No, don't do that," Martin said, walking closer. "I agree. It's too dangerous for the couriers to go to the ball. Instead, let's make deliveries that morning. Have all our contacts informed of that today. No matter what happens at the embassy, our packets will be delivered, and payments collected." He sat beside her on the sofa. "You should step up your trip to Italy. Leave the next morning. Travel light so you can enjoy the shopping, stay away until Autumn if you like. By then, when they realize they were outflanked, all the rushing around looking for you will be over."

"How did this get so troublesome?" Queen Mary said. "The little noble wench is to blame for this! Whatever happens, see to that part of the plan."

"Since when do you get so bloodthirsty?" Martin said, grinning. "That's my job."

Mary grinned back at him. Perhaps it's the disappointment. "The Foggs are just as much to blame. There are foreign powers that would love to see them eliminated. Shall I offer incentive to have that done?"

Martin's inner anarchist brightened. One duchess and two Secret Service agents assassinated on the same night in the same place, "now that sounds inspired."

He stood, crossed the room and brought her writing desk. Half an hour later, all the messages had been written and readied for delivery. He put them in a valise and stood. "Don't worry about me and Flintcraft. We will continue as we have with none the wiser. I might even get a promotion if I play my cards right."

Mary laughed. You do that. I won't see you again until Autumn then. "Happy hunting."

Couriers and contacts met all over the city on short notice, causing a lot of nervous looking over their shoulders, but the change made sense. None but would be hazarded at an event known for such transfers. Bags, envelopes, and satchels were exchanged in various manners. When all was done, the day's rewards were gathered up and brought to the queen by Martin. He promised to take care of the duchess himself. "Maybe one of the Foggs if I can get a lucky shot off in the confusion."

"No need to be greedy," Mary said. "Your share is already plenty. I expect you to survive the night. Don't get carried away."

"A Prussian has taken up that task, and a Serbian who appears to know Phileas Fogg. getting a past enemy in on this is a good bit of luck. You stay out of their way. You have your own job to do. I have requested they be taken care of off the embassy grounds. No need to upset the French: after all, the Foggs are English. Their blood should be spilled on English soil."