Free The Rose Conspiracy by Craig Parshall Page A

him, he had stopped checking his rearview mirror. But that morning, on the way to the office, he happened to catch a glimpse of the Taurus a few car lengths behind him again.
    He dialed Tully, who picked up on the fourth ring. Blackstone wanted a status report.
    â€œI was intending to put this in a written report,” Tully said.
    â€œForget that,” Blackstone said. “Give me a verbal. Who’s the tail?”
    â€œGuy named Howard Mercer,” Tully replied. “He works for G & B Investigations, headquartered in New York. They are a national private-investigation firm. Mercer is the PI who heads up the DC branch. I know him a little. So I found out where he eats breakfast every morning and ‘accidentally’ on purpose sat next to him at the counter. Did some small talk. Asked him if he had any interesting cases lately—that sort of thing. He clammed up, paid his bill, and scooted out of there so fast you’d think I’d just asked him to pick up my tab.”
    â€œYou didn’t leave it there, did you?”
    â€œCome on, J.D. you know me better than that. Course not. But just don’t ask me how I came upon the information I came upon, if you know what I mean.”
    â€œSo?”
    â€œHe made a series of international phone calls after every other tail of you, like clockwork, always to the same number.”
    â€œWhere?”
    â€œA number in the greater London area.”
    â€œWhose number?”
    â€œLast name of Dee…does it ring a bell?”
    â€œYeah—like the hunchback up in the bell tower.”
    â€œI sort of figured you already had a handle on this,” Tully said. “See, you take all the fun out. So you want me to keep tracking him?”
    â€œNo. I’ll take it from here,” Blackstone said.
    After hanging up, Blackstone located the number Vinnie had given him for Lord Dee. Then he called it. It was early evening over in London.
    As before, Dee’s personal secretary, Colin Reading, answered.
    â€œI need to speak to Lord Dee,” Blackstone insisted. “Right away.”
    â€œI’m sorry,” Reading replied stiffly, “Lord Dee is rather engaged at the moment. Is there anything I can help you with?”
    â€œYou can tell Lord Dee that I know all about Howard Mercer and G & B Investigations, who he hired to shadow me. You tell him that. And then remind him that if he wants me to help Vinnie Archmont he is going to have to deal with me directly. No personal secretaries. No backstairs staff. I want Lord Dee personally.”
    Less than an hour later, Blackstone’s cell phone rang as he was preparing to head home for the night.
    â€œLord Dee has an opening,” Reading announced coldly. “Day after tomorrow.”
    â€œShall I call him, or vice-versa?” Blackstone asked.
    â€œOh, no—Lord Dee won’t be on the telephone. He wants to meet you in person. Fly into Heathrow. Lord Dee’s personal driver will pick you up. I’ll give you my private e-mail address, and you can e-mail me your itinerary. We’ll make all the other arrangements for you for a night’s stay at Lord Dee’s estate in Wessex.”
    Blackstone made a quick call to his travel agent to line up the flight. Then Julia poked her head in his office.
    â€œYou never told me what Dr. Coglin found out about the notepad,” she said.
    â€œNo, I didn’t,” he said with a scowl. “And it looks like I won’t.”
    Julia gave him a puzzled look.
    â€œThe Court granted a government motion barring me from divulging Dr. Coglin’s findings to anybody.”
    â€œThat’s pretty over the top.”
    â€œI’m still stewing over that one. I also found out who hired the guy who’s been shadowing me.”
    â€œOh?”
    â€œYeah. His Strangeness, Lord Dee of Mysticville,” Blackstone griped.
    â€œYou’re kidding. The guy who’s footing the legal