Not Exactly Allies

CHAPTER 13 – FELICITY GETS BRIEFED

  Felicity came back from the car park to find Richard Hugh studiously watching the fish in her aquarium. "All right, what's up?" she said.

  "Mrs. Findlater, this is Dennis Uppington. He works under Dr. Orchard in internal review," Richard said. Felicity tightened when she heard 'Dr. Orchard in internal review.' Richard hastened to reassure her. "Uppington isn't on a case, or at least not that sort of case. He just happened to be too close to a bombing this afternoon."

  "Just happened to be carrying the bomb, right before it went off," Dennis said.

  "Thanks for your input. Would you let me finish here?" Richard said. Dennis nodded, but not graciously. He appeared to be passing into a testy stage, something not at all uncommon after a bad shock, but rather inconvenient under the circumstances, Richard thought. He turned back to Felicity. "A dog got killed by the bomb, but no humans, so put that worry out of your head. Emma's with the chief, who will be all right I think, but he got shot earlier today by Pamela Williams, or I think it's Pamela – Ms. Williams anyway, the one who works under Creasey. Meant to kill Stolemaker, and knew it was him. No question on either count. By the by, that's his blood on the back seat out there."

  Dennis was blinking. Felicity was fuming. As well they might, Richard thought.

  "…So, anyway, it being an inside shooting, and other nasty undercurrents being in evidence, we've got Stolemaker stashed for now. All that would be enough on our plate, but Stolemaker thinks the ultimate target is the Prime Minister at the least, and possibly the underpinnings of democratic government overall. We're talking attempted coup, here. That car I'm driving belongs to a civilian who happened to be on hand right after the chief got shot, and decided to be useful. I need to get the car back, preferably not blood-stained to any noticeable degree. I need to get word to Stolemaker's head secretary, I think she's trustworthy?" Felicity nodded agreement. "And Carterson down at wiretap I'd trust with anything, as long as he remembered to not ask all and sundry of his colleagues for second opinions. He's rather in the habit of using people to double-check his own impressions, I'm afraid: a good habit usually, for his line of work, a possibly dangerous one now. But that's where I'm at. Suddenly I have a lot to do, don't know whom or what to trust, and am finding myself taking wild guesses as to which people are solid enough to put on the inside for the first round. I'm a lone bird on most flights, you know. I hadn't realized the downside to that until just today. I need to yoke up with people who can help judge who amongst our colleagues is solid and who is mush, so to speak."

  "Give me a minute to think," Felicity said. "In the meantime, let's get you two cleaned up and fed. The car's no problem, if we've got another couple hours with it?"

  "The fellow would let us have it for a week, I think, without a peep, but I'd rather not. A couple or three hours would be marvelous. And add this to your thinking cap. The bomb went off at the rural home of one Leonard Loomis, and Uppington happened to be there because Dr. Orchard sent him there, via a drop site where he picked up the bomb. We have written instructions and everything."

  "Leonard Loomis of Deerfield Cottage?" Felicity asked.

  Richard nodded, surprised and wary. Loomis hadn't worked with the labs, as far as he knew. On top of that, although she might know the man by reputation, surely it was odd that she knew his address.

  "It wasn't Marti who got killed was it? The sort of corgi?" Felicity asked.

  "No, Marti's the only survivor of the household, as a matter of fact. Rather seriously hurt, but still ambulatory after a fashion," Richard said.

  Felicity's face was surprisingly hard, for her. The anger yielded to confusion. "But wait a minute. I'm not sure I have this straight. For one thing, Lenny had three dogs. If only one got killed by the bomb, what happened to the other one? Also, you said that no people got killed by the bomb? Lenny wasn't home, then? Or is he hurt and you're just easing up to telling me?"

  "He was already dead," Dennis put in. He looked like he planned to elaborate.

  "I'll fill you in over sandwiches or whatever we're having, Felicity," Richard said, glaring Dennis into silence.

  "But I thought you said you trusted this woman? Wanted her as co-captain, or something like that, didn't you say?"

  Richard looked at Felicity. "Rookie," he said.

  "Obviously," she said. She got professionally brisk. "First things first, shall we?" she said, taking Richard's cues that he was feeling hampered, perhaps even a bit trapped, by being disreputable in appearance, and hungry. She shooed the men into the bedroom, where she helped them find clean clothes, then she abandoned them to their showers while she went to make calls, put away groceries, and fix dinner.

  Her Michael's arms and legs were shorter than Richard's, his shoulders broader and his legs longer than Dennis. When all was said and done, the two of them were clean and presentable, but looked like guys on vacation, or at least the sort of vacationer who wears clothes he wouldn't be caught dead in back home – not if his wife had anything to say about it, anyway.