34 - The Queen's Jewels Read Online Free PDF Page B

afraid I’m going to have to cancel dinner tomorrow night. I feel terrible bollixing up your plans.”
    “Oh, that’s a shame, George, but I certainly understand. A promising lead?”
    “Hard to know at this juncture, but of course every lead must be followed, promising or not.”
    “Of course. When do you think you’ll be back?”
    “I don’t know that either, hopefully before you head for Southampton. When is that?”
    “Saturday morning.”
    “I’ll do my best to be back before then.”
    “I know you will. Be safe.”
    “You, too, Jessica.”
    We’d no sooner ended the conversation than the phone rang again.
    “Is this the famous Jessica Fletcher?”
    I knew immediately that it was Michael Haggerty.
    “Hello, Michael.”
    “You knew I’d be calling.”
    “I recognized your voice.”
    “I’ll have to work harder at disguising it, maybe develop a Maine accent like yours.”
    “Somehow, I don’t think you could muster a Down East accent. Why are you calling, Michael?”
    “Jessica, why this standoffish tone? It was wonderful seeing you last night.”
    “I’m sorry, Michael. I don’t mean to be standoffish. I’ve just come back from a long walk and—”
    “I know, I know—your feet hurt.”
    “Well, as a matter of fact, yes.” What I didn’t say was that my disappointment at not being able to see George again was probably coloring my tone of voice.
    “A good soak in cold water and you’ll be tip-top in no time.”
    “I beg your pardon.”
    “Mother Haggerty’s recipe for ailing tootsies. Look, Jessica, I really would like to see you again while you’re in London. Do you have plans for this evening?”
    “No, I—I thought I’d take in some theater.”
    “A musical?”
    “No. As a matter of fact—”
    “There isn’t any better theater in London than the Ivy.”
    I knew that he was referring to the celebrity-driven restaurant that has long been a favorite of London’s theatrical and motion picture crowd. I’d been there before as the guest of an actress friend and enjoyed it very much.
    “We’ll see all the stars in London’s entertainment firmament, but unfortunately you won’t be able to prove it to the folks back home. You can’t bring a camera to the Ivy,” he continued. “Taking pictures there is prohibited. Got to protect the celebs from the paparazzi. Always quite a show, however. How about we have dinner there tonight?”
    I couldn’t help but laugh. Reservations had to be made at the Ivy weeks, if not months, in advance. He sounded as though we could just pop in and have our choice of tables. I mentioned this.
    “Not to worry, Jessica. I’m a charter member of the Club at the Ivy. You can do theater any night, but an invitation to the Ivy comes along only now and then.” He broke into song: “. . . and we will cling together like the ivy.”
    I sighed.
    “A popular song of yesteryear, Jessica; that’s where the Ivy got its name. They say a table at the Ivy is the most sought-after piece of furniture in all of London, and the sticky toffee pudding with vanilla ice cream is divine, worthy of sainthood.”
    “I get your point, Michael.”
    He turned serious. “Jessica,” he said, “it’s really important that I spend some time with you. I have a favor to ask.”
    “Which is?”
    “Not on the phone,” he replied, his voice dropping.
    “Michael, I—”
    “Swing by to pick you up at nine? I know that’s late, but the action really doesn’t get started until then. The Ivy. My treat. Think of all the famous folks you’ll see prancing about in their thickest makeup and latest designer togs.”
    “All right,” I said, laughing.
    “Wonderful. We’ll have ourselves a deadly time.”
    “Deadly?”
    “‘Deadly.’ A good time. You’ve allowed your Irish vocabulary to slip. Be at your hotel at nine sharp. Toodle-loo.”
     
     
    “. . . and so there I was, Jessica, trapped between a ruthless gang of drug-smuggling terrorists and a rogue intelligence