“Anything that might give us a hint where Morgan has gone—travel brochures, reservation forms, anything. You take the desk.”

Dino began going through the desk drawers, while Stone walked around the living room slowly, looking at everything. He didn’t know exactly what he was looking for, but he would know it when he saw it. There was a large television set, and an easy chair and ottoman parked in front of it. On the ottoman was a stack of magazines; Stone began to go through them.

A television guide, a well-marked racing form, a couple of girlie magazines, and a travel magazine. Stone flipped through the travel magazine twice before he found something. A corner of one page had been dog-eared, then flattened again. The page was a continuation of an article on country inns that began earlier in the magazine; there was only one ad. “Take a look at this,” he said to Dino.

“Nothing in the desk,” Dino said. “No secret compartments, no travel receipts, nothing.”

Stone held out the magazine. “This page has been marked,” he said.

Dino looked at the ad in the lower right-hand corner. A photograph of a large country house dominated it. “What’s Cliveden?” he asked, pronouncing it with a long i.

“Cliveden, with a short i, was the country house of Lord Astor, before the war. His wife, an American woman named Nancy, who was a member of parliament, ran a very big salon there. Everybody who was anybody showed up at one time or another—George Bernard Shaw, Charlie Chaplin—and every literary or political figure of the time.”

“How do you know this stuff?”

“I read a book about it.”

“So why is this important?”

“It’s a hotel now, and it’s near Heathrow. Suppose Morgan wanted to lie low for a few days, until the heat was off at the airports, then beat it out of the country? He’s got to know everybody will be looking for him.”

“Could be,” Dino said. “You want to check it out?”

“Have we got anything else to do?”

“Nope.”

“Then let’s do it.”

They were on the M4 motorway, driving fast.

“Why aren’t we looking for Lance instead?” Dino asked.

“Two reasons: First, Lance is a lot smarter than Morgan, I think, and he’s going to be a lot harder to find; second, Morgan has my money.”

“And that’s the important one, huh?”

“You bet your ass; I don’t give a damn about the device, whatever it is, but Carpenter and her people don’t give a damn about my money, either.”

Following a small map in the magazine ad, they found the house.

“Jesus Christ,” Dino said, as they drove up the drive and came to the place. “I didn’t expect it to be so big.”