Page 130 of Ransom

“Someone was here recently.”

Ingrid pointed to the smudge of lipstick on the rim of the second mug. “And he had female company.”

“Who’s to say they aren’t still here?” asked Sarah.

Gabriel headed for the staircase. On the lower level of the house it was the same story—a gym without fitness equipment, a cinema without reclining chairs, a large service kitchen empty of pots and pans and cooking utensils. At the back of the house was a garage with two separate bays. One of the doors was open.

“Looks like our two visitors went out the back way,” said Sarah. “But one wonders why they neglected to close the door.”

“Perhaps,” said Ingrid, “they were in a hurry.”

Gabriel closed the door with a press of a button and headed once again for the stairs. On the uppermost floor of the house were two unfurnished bedrooms, an unfurnished sitting room, a library empty of books, and a door with two unsightly interior padlocks. The latch had a lock as well, openable only with a key.

“Where do you suppose it leads?” asked Sarah.

“There must be a roof terrace.”

She tugged at one of the padlocks. “How long will it take you to pick these?”

Gabriel placed the barrel of the Walther against the lock and pulled the trigger.

“One down,” said Sarah, rubbing her ear. “Two to go.”

55

Number 10

It took Amanda Wallace two excruciating minutes to get Graham Seymour on the line. First she tried his mobile number. Then, after receiving no answer, she rang Number 10’s main switchboard on the emergency backup line, and an operator transferred the call to the phone in the White Drawing Room. The connection was not quite secure, but it would have to do.

“Wilton Crescent?” he asked.

Amanda responded by reciting the street address of the house in question.

“And you’re sure it was Gabriel?”

“Positive,” said Amanda. Then she added, “So much for him being on his way back to Cornwall. By the way, Christopher Keller’s wife is with him. So is that Danish woman, the one who was involved in that messy business out in Somerset.”

“There’s only one reason the three of them would be there.”

“I’m all ears, Graham.”

“Not on this line, I’m afraid. We’ve said too much already.”

“How shall I handle it?”

“Ring the commissioner of the Met immediately. Make sure he sends MO19. Tell them not to bother ringing the bell.”

The line went dead. Graham replaced the receiver and looked at Christopher. He had heard only one end of the conversation, but it was more than enough.

“They must have found something on Ivanov’s phone,” he said.

“So it would appear.”

Christopher rose to his feet. “Would you mind terribly if I wandered over to Wilton Crescent to check on my wife?”

“Actually,” said Graham, “I need you here.”

“Whatever for?”