Sophie raised hers as well. “Now Adam and I will do our share so there will be more descendants for the next hundred years. May Ansonia and Josef never be forgotten.”

They clicked cups. Mike looked back and forth between brother and sister. “Amazing. All of it is absolutely amazing.”

Adam said, “You’re pretty amazing, sis. Look at you, you destroyed Havelock. You saved the Order. Not to mention the world.” He paused for a moment. “I wish I could have seen him.”

“I’m glad you didn’t, Adam. He looked like a monster out of a horror movie.”

Adam looked over his shoulder, then leaned close across the table and whispered, “Did you get the weapon?”

Sophie didn’t say a word.

Nicholas fiddled with his spoon a moment, reached over and wiped a spot of foam from Mike’s chin. “You needn’t ever worry about the weapon again, Adam. It’s been taken care of. Something that powerful, that deadly, no person, no government should ever have control of it. I’ve destroyed Curie’s notebook and Havelock’s files.”

Mike said, “For now, Havelock’s company’s been closed down. All the technology he’s discovered—it needs someone who isn’t mad as a hatter to guide it properly, to see it’s used for good.”

Sophie said, “We can only pray there’s not another mad genius like Havelock to resurrect it all again.”

Mike thanked the good Lord above Dendritte hadn’t known what Havelock had been after in Curie’s lab. If she’d known about the MNW, there’d have been hell to pay. She could hear the howls from French government loud in her head.

Nicholas said, “I identified the man from Havelock’s files, code name Mr. Z. He was Mr. Stanford’s secretary, Trevor Wetherby, and he was the one who killed him. He was working for Weston, of course. Word leaked late last night that the inquest found Stanford’s death was murder. As you can imagine, the media is having a field day with this. Who knows where it will head?”

Sophie asked, “What happens to Adam?”

Nicholas sat back in his chair, his hands steepled in front of him. “I suppose it depends on Adam.”

Nineteen, and the kid was already surpassing Nicholas’s own skills. It felt strange, he had to admit.

“I’m willing to do whatever you want, sir.”

“Are you? You’re willing to go to jail? Because that’s where you belong.”

Adam’s face fell. Mike kicked Nicholas in the ankle under the table. “Quit torturing him, it’s not nice.”

Nicholas said, “All right, so we’ll make a deal. But Adam, there will be some jail time, no way around that. You’ve hacked too many sensitive agencies, stepped on a lot of very big toes, thumbed your nose at too many important people. But if you’re willing to work with me, to tell me everything you’ve done, and how you did it—we may be able to get your jail time reduced.”

Adam looked appalled. “Are you saying I’d have to work for the Man?”

“Forever, probably,” Nicholas said, and felt ancient. “Don’t look like you’re going to throw up. Get used to it. We need minds like yours. So if you’re willing to cooperate, we could plead you out as a misdemeanor, and you’ll be out in well under a year.

“Ah, I see Commander Dendritte waving to us. I believe she wants to speak more with you and Sophie, probably more grilling for Mike and me as well. Then it’s back to New York.”

“And then? I know, I know, after the slammer, it’s the Man. Okay, I can do that.” He flashed a big smile. “Within reason, of course.” Nicholas paid for breakfast and they went to see Commander Dendritte. They made a date to come speak to the higher-ups in the Parisian Sûreté. Mike and Nicholas watched brother and sister follow the commander, Adam’s arm slung around Sophie’s shoulders. He turned and mouthed Thank you to Nicholas and gave him a thumbs-up.

Nicholas smiled down at Mike. “They’ll both be okay now.”

“Now that I’ve had sustenance, I need sleep, at least until we have to report in for more talk, talk, talk.”

“I do as well.”

Mike said, “And then we debrief for Zachery, and, and, and—”

Nicholas took her hand. “All of that, but sleep first. Where shall we go?”

“I was thinking of a little pension, maybe a bit on the seedy side, with no hot water—”

He laughed. “Do you think instead you could put up with a shabby two-bedroom suite at the Ritz?”

She slowly nodded. “Well, if you insist. I remember I liked that place okay—especially the soft bed.”

91

Early the next morning they were eating breakfast and watching the continuing media frenzy about Alfie Stanford’s and Oliver Leyland’s murders on the BBC when Mike’s cell rang.

“It’s Zachery.”

Nicholas groaned. “I knew he’d have more questions, but now? It’s midnight in New York. Doesn’t the man sleep?”

“He probably wants us to get ourselves back to New York today. Hello, sir. It’s a lovely midnight in New York, right?”

“No, it’s raining. Listen, you two,” Zachery said. “As you know, the world press is going nuts with all that’s happened. But since that isn’t your problem you will simply say to anyone who asks that you have absolutely no comment.”

Mike met Nicholas’s eye. “Yes, sir, we know nothing at all.”

“Good. Now, I have to tell you there is still no sign of Edward Weston. He appears to have disappeared off the face of the earth. Our agencies are beginning to believe Havelock killed him and buried him deep. No one knows.”

Nicholas wished it were true, but he didn’t believe it. “No, sir, I know to my boots he’s out there somewhere. And he’s got money, from where, I don’t know, but he’s waiting, that’s all.”

“Well, perhaps you’re right. You’ll be pleased to know you have three governments who are very happy with you right now. And one who is rather peeved.”

“The Germans?” Nicholas asked.

“How’d you guess? They’re claiming the gold belonged to Kaiser Wilhelm and want it back. I hear they’re cheering in Scotland, claiming all that gold belongs to them, right of salvage.”

Nicholas said, “Well, it’s going to cost big bucks to clean up the pollution caused by Havelock’s blowing up the Gravitania.”

“I haven’t heard Scotland use that argument yet, they’ve all still got golden bars before their eyes. In any case, it’s not your problem.”

Nicholas said, “Oh, yes, have you seen to Adam Pearce?”

“Yes. He’s agreed to our terms, so all is good in nerd land. Well done, you two. Both of you have done a wonderful job. You and Mike get back here pronto. The director wants to know what exactly happened to his plane.”

Nicholas said, “Does that mean no SIRT review?”

Zachery laughed. “No, there will still be an inquiry, for you both, but I’m sure we’ll find a way to make it as painless as possible.” Zachery laughed again. “When you save the world, those things happen.”

“We’ll catch a plane this afternoon. Any chance of a ride home?”

“After what you two managed to do to the director’s plane? It’s Air France for you. Enjoy the flight.”

When Nicholas hung up, Mike said, “It was a good try.”

“Perhaps I’ll give Penderley a call. We didn’t bung up the prime minister’s plane.”

“What, you’re too good to fly commercial now?”

He grinned back at her. “I really don’t care what we fly, I only want to go home.”

And she thought, New York is home. She rose and stretched. “Time to pack my pathetic go bag.” She leaned down, laid her palm against his cheek, something Nicholas was getting used to, and quite liked. “No stitches to pull this time. That’s good.”

His go bag was sitting beside the door of the suite. He heard her bedroom door shut. He had one more call to make.

His father answered on the first ring, asked immediately, “Are you all right?”

“I am.”

There was a slight pause, then, “What’s wrong, Nicholas?”