responded Jonathan, moved by the show of emotion.
“Anyway, till tomorrow,” said Meadows, gathering himself. “Can’t wait to hear the big speech. Give you the details about dinner then. Cheers!”
“Yes, good luck with your talk,” said Prudence, smiling warmly.
Jonathan walked back to the bar and ordered another beer. The room was packed. Conversation had grown from bubbly to boisterous. No abstemious physicians here. He scanned the crowd for Dr. Blackburn, and when he didn’t see him, he went down the corridor to the restroom. It was time to head out and get something to eat. No one could say he hadn’t put in an appearance.
The door to the restroom opened. A moment later he spotted Blackburn in the mirror, plainly agitated. “Come on, then,” said Blackburn. “Follow me.”
“Excuse me?”
Blackburn nodded toward the door. “We need to hurry before they get here. Let’s get a move on.”
Jonathan stood his ground. “Who’s ‘they’?”
“You know.” Blackburn walked out of the restroom. Puzzled, Jonathan followed. Blackburn led the way down the corridor, turned the corner, then threw open the door to a conference room. “What are you waiting for?”
Jonathan hurried inside. “What’s this about?” he asked after Blackburn had closed the door behind them. “What do you mean, ‘before they get here’?”
“There’s no time for questions. Just do as I say. You can leave through the window. It’s unlocked. Go to Green Park Underground station and take the tube to Marylebone. You’ll have to change trains at Piccadilly. I was led to understand you knew your way around London.”
“More or less.”
“Right, then. Get out at Marylebone and head west on Edgware Road. Look for number sixty-one. It’s a walk-up flat. Black door with golden numerals. You’ll see some names and buzzers. Forget ’em. The door will be open. Go up to the second floor. Two C.” Blackburn dug out a rabbit’s foot with a single key dangling from it.
“What in the world are you talking about?” asked Jonathan as he took the key.
“Wait inside until you receive a phone call,” instructed Blackburn, calmer now that Jonathan was paying attention. “You’ll receive further instructions after we make sure you’re clean.”
“Clean?”
“Two of them have been keeping an eye on you at the cocktail party.”
“Two of who? I didn’t notice anyone.”
Blackburn shot him a glance that said he was hardly surprised. “Get going. There’s someone who wants to see you. And, I imagine, whom you wish to see as well.”
Jonathan’s heart caught in his throat.
She’s here. She’s in London
.
Blackburn moved to the door. “You must hurry,” he said.
Chapter 8
Fronted by the Meadow, a broad field of untamed grass and bordered by the meandering waters of the Isis River, Christ Church College, Oxford, was the picture of British higher learning. The college was founded in 1524 by Thomas Cardinal Wolsey who had expropriated the grounds from a group of stubborn monks. Henry VIII stole it back from Wolsey and appointed the monastery church as the cathedral of the diocese of Oxford. As such, Christ Church was the only college at Oxford to be both church and institution of higher learning. But that kind of history belonged in guidebooks. All anyone knew about it today including Kate Ford, was that its great hall served as the set for Hogwart’s dining room in the Harry Potter movies. She was suitably impressed.
Kate ducked her head into the dusk of the porter’s lodge and announced herself. “I’m looking for Anthony Dodd.”
“Second floor. First door on the right.”
She climbed the wooden stairwell. It was approaching six in the evening, and she was already bone tired. It was the videos that did it. All day she’d sat in One Park’s security office reviewing tapes from the building’s closed-circuit camera system in hopes of spotting Robert Russell’s murderer.
Tess Callahan
Athanasios
Holly Ford
JUDITH MEHL
Gretchen Rubin
Rose Black
Faith Hunter
Michael J. Bowler
Jamie Hollins
Alice Goffman