“I heard it from the Spider's mouth.”

“Pardon?”

“Spider Barrett, the man who developed the polar shift mechanism.”

“This Barrett person has been telling you tales as strange as his name.”

“I don't think so. He and his partner, Margrave, are geniuses who have the money and talent to prove it. I'm not sure where you fit in.”

“You can be sure of one thing, Austin. You made a mistake coming here.”

“I was thinking the same thing.” Austin picked up his cap and put it on his lap. “You're obviously not interested in anything I have to say. I'll be on my way. Thanks for the water.”

He stood and plunked the cap on his head. Gant rose and said, “I'll have someone get your horse.”

Oiled by large amounts of alcohol, the boisterous conversation on the patio was becoming even louder. Gant signaled a groom and told him to bring the Arabian to Austin, who pulled himself up on the saddle. Doyle saw him preparing to leave and came over. He held on to the reins as if he were helping.

“I can find my own way out, Mr. Gant. Thanks for your hospitality.”

“You'll have to come back when you can spend more time.”

“I'll do that.”

He nudged the horse with his knees, and it shouldered Doyle out of the way. Doyle was a city boy, and the only horses he had been close to before coming to work for Gant were the ones ridden by Boston's mounted police. He released the reins and stepped back so he wouldn't be stepped on. Austin caught the fear in Doyle's face and he smiled. He flipped the reins and galloped away from the house.

Doyle watched Austin ride away. His features were as hard as granite. “Do you want me to take care of him?”

“Not here. Not now. Have someone follow him. I'd like to find out how he got onto the property.”

“I'll do that.”

“When you're through I have another job for you. Meet me in the garden in fifteen minutes.”

While Gant went off to hobnob with his guests, Doyle slipped a hand radio out of his pocket and barked an order to two guards who were sitting in a jeep off the main access road to the house. The driver had just finished acknowledging the order when an Arabian mare galloped by with the rider low in the saddle. The driver started the jeep's engine, jammed the stick shift into first and punched the accelerator.

The jeep was going nearly sixty miles an hour when it flew by the copse of elm trees where Austin was hiding. He watched it speed by, consulted a handheld GPS unit and set off across the meadows and fields until he came to woods bordering the property. A horse and rider emerged from the trees and rode up to meet Austin.