“And taking them out together, simultaneously, would be a more grievous wound than I can characterize,” Wilfred said. “Suffice it to say, it would shake the Western services to their core.”

56

Wilfred poured them another cup of tea. “This is a sufficiently important operation to employ more than one method,” he said. “You should have a choice. At Station Two, we relied on only one method.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“I think the most satisfying method would be an apparent murder-suicide. Either one could be made out to be the murderer.”

“Felicity,” Roger said. “It could be said that the pressures of her position brought this on.”

“I agree. I think it would be a very good idea, too, for Felicity to have some competition with regard to Barrington.”

“Is Felicity fucking Barrington?” Roger asked, surprised.

“For years,” Wilfred replied. “In New York, London, and at his estate, Windward Hall, which you have visited in her company.”

“Yes, I have, but I had not cottoned to their affair.”

“Felicity is a subtle woman. Still, she has her weaknesses.”

“Such as?”

“She likes both men and women in bed—preferably at the same time.”

“The woman, Rose,” Roger said, nodding. “I admire her taste in women.”

“So do I, and Barrington’s taste, as well.”

“A double murder and a suicide?” Roger asked. “How would we manage that?”

“Careful planning,” Wilfred replied. “And stealth.”

“I can’t disagree, but first we would have to get them into bed, all at the same time,” Wilfred said. “I have had word from a wiretap that they will all be at Barrington’s place next weekend.”

“Wilfred,” Roger said, “I am grateful for your confidence in me, but I cannot imagine how it would be possible to get three people in bed together and shoot them all.”

“Suppose they were all unconscious?”

“Certainly that would make it easier, but how do we induce unconsciousness? If we drugged them, an autopsy with a tox screen would reveal it and point the police to an outside killer.”

“Of course,” Wilfred said, “but our Russian friends, who are artful in these things, have a substance said to be made from two common household ingredients, which, when mixed, make a poison that works in a few minutes and is chemically untraceable.”

“What are the ingredients?” Roger asked.

“I don’t know—and I don’t want to know,” Wilfred replied. “If they became public knowledge there would be an immediate rash of unexplained domestic deaths in this country and around the world.”

“I suppose so,” Roger said. “But the Russians have it?”

“They are geniuses at poisoning. Take, for example, the deaths of former GRU agents in Britain.”

“Yes, but those don’t meet the standard of being untraceable. They were analyzed quite quickly.”