“Ladies,” Stone said. “Please do as I ask right now. Gather your clothes and walk down the hall to the last guest room and get dressed, then stay there until I come for you.”

“What on earth . . .” Rose said.

“Do it now, please.”

Felicity got it. “Rose, let’s go.” She led Rose back into the dressing room, and they emerged, each carrying her clothes, and left the room.

Stone got out his iPhone and called the local police. “Chief Inspector Holmes,” he said.

“I’m sorry, sir,” a woman replied, “but the chief inspector has gone for the day.”

“This is an extreme emergency,” Stone said. “Connect me to him immediately.”

“Your name, sir?”

“Barrington.”

“One moment.”

—

Roger Fife-Simpson stood in a patch of woods a quarter mile from Windward Hall. He stripped the last of the British Gas logo from the van, wadded it up, and struck a match to it. Then he dropped it where the flames wouldn’t spread. He took off his cap and uniform, revealing a black sweater and trousers underneath, and added the work clothes to the flames, poking at them with a stick until they were burning readily. He checked the contents of his canvas bag and came up with a silenced pistol given to him by Wilfred, identical to the firearm he had been issued at MI-6, and tucked it into his belt. Then he dug out the throwaway cell phone. He started to dial a number, but decided he wanted to see the effect of his work, so he left the van, crossed the road, and climbed over a stone wall. From where he landed, he had a fine view of the front of the house. He redialed the number.

—

Stone was waiting impatiently, then finally: “This is Chief Inspector Holmes.”

“Chief Inspector, this is Stone Barrington. I’ve found what appears to be a bomb under my bed, and I need your bomb squad at once.”

“Certainly,” Holmes replied. “I’ll see to it.”

“Oh, and please send someone who knows about poisons.”

“You’re having quite an evening, aren’t you?” Holmes asked, then hung up.

Stone suddenly asked himself a question. Why was he standing in his bedroom, four feet from a probable bomb? He grabbed the shotgun and left, closing the door behind him. Then he remembered something someone, perhaps Holly, had told him about the Agency iPhone. He went to the home page and looked at the icons, and then he saw it. Utilities, it was called. He touched it and found himself looking at a list. One item read: Create a Dead Zone.