‘Welcome to Oakacres.’ A uniformed manservant opened the door and took Ella’s coat, before leading her through a grand, marble-floored reception room to an elegant conservatory at the back of the house. Part sitting room and part dining area, the furniture was an eclectic mix of antiques and more modern beach pieces. There was a voluminous white sofa, covered in pretty silk cushions, an eighteenth-century card table set up for a game of bridge, and a charming round oak table laid with big bowls of salad and various platters of meat, cheese and poached lobster, already expertly cracked. Scattered around the room were a selection of ‘trophy’ pictures of Mark Redmayne and his attractive, expensive-looking wife, Veronica. In one they were shaking hands with the president in the Oval Office. In another they were laughing with Prince Charles at a polo match. A third showed Veronica by Angelina Jolie’s side at a UN conference. There were no children, Ella noticed, nor even any natural, happy, family shots. She found herself wondering whether Mr and Mrs Redmayne’s marriage was more of a business arrangement than a love match.
‘Ah, Miss Praeger.’ Mark Redmayne walked in, all smiles, and extended a manicured hand in Ella’s direction. ‘We meet at last. Welcome and thank you for coming.’
Ella shook his hand, her eyes scanning his features for anything that might fill in the blanks around his shadowy identity. He was attractive for an older man, handsome despite the lines etched at his eyes and across his brow, with a strong jaw and the straight white teeth and trim figure that spoke both of wealth and of discipline. He takes care of himself. Or perhaps his wife takes care of him. Ella had heard that Redmayne could be both charming and ruthless. Gabriel, in particular, had stressed the latter, but only the former was on display today as he fixed Ella a drink and pulled out a comfortable chair for her, before sitting down himself.
‘So. I suppose I should start by saying congratulations,’ he said, raising his glass to hers once they were both seated. A silent stream of serving staff seemed to have materialized suddenly, filling Ella’s plate while the
two of them toasted. ‘To your successful mission, even if the methods were a little unorthodox. Thanks to you, the world is finally rid of Athena Petridis. You’ve done a great service to mankind, Ella.’
Ella glanced uneasily at the servants.
‘It’s all right,’ Redmayne assured her. ‘You can speak freely here. Everyone on the property belongs to The Group.’
That struck Ella as a distinctly odd turn of phrase. Belongs. As if they were slaves, or property themselves.
‘Remember, I didn’t defeat Athena alone,’ Ella told him, running a hand through her still-short hair, grown out now to a rather fetching pixie cut. ‘Gabriel and I worked as a team.’
‘Yes,’ muttered Redmayne, his expression visibly darkening at the mention of Gabriel’s name.
‘I couldn’t have done it without him. Where is he, by the way?’ Ella asked bluntly. ‘I haven’t been able to reach him since I left Greece. Is he back in the States too?’
Mark Redmayne grimaced, stabbing a chunk of lobster meat with a tiny silver fork. Evidently things were already veering off-script. ‘No.’
Ella waited for Redmayne to elaborate, baiting him with silence.
‘He’s in London. On assignment,’ he said brusquely.
‘You don’t like him, do you?’ Ella heard herself asking.
Redmayne sounded shocked. ‘Is that what he told you?’
When Ella didn’t answer, he went on. ‘Whether I like him or not isn’t relevant,’ he said pointedly – and not denying it.
‘It’s relevant to me,’ said Ella, deciding at last to throw caution to the wind. ‘I mean, it’s all very well you congratulating me on the mission now, inviting me out here to your beautiful home. But when Gabriel and I were out there, risking our lives, you did everything you could to thwart us. You were furious. You threatened us. You had us followed. If you’d had your way, Athena would have escaped. Again. And then where would we be?’
Mark Redmayne shook his head. He looked more wounded than angry. ‘That’s not true, Ella. May I call you Ella?’
‘Of course,’ said Ella, frowning. She mustn’t allow herself to be charmed.
‘I was furious with Gabriel. That much is true. I still am, as a matter of fact. But not with you. Your job was to gather data using your remarkable abilities, something you achieved to great effect. His job was to protect you. And he didn’t.’
‘I’m here, aren’t I?’ said Ella.
‘You are,’ agreed Redmayne. ‘But no thanks to him. Believe me when I say I’m as delighted as anybody that Athena has been liquidated, and that you’ve returned home safely. But it could very easily have gone differently. I had sound reasons for wanting to abort your mission. As an experienced agent, Gabriel knew that.’
‘What reasons?’ demanded Ella. But Redmayne was on a roll, venting his anger at Gabriel, his fists clenched with tangible rage.
‘His insubordination, his arrogance … He took risks with your life that were not his to take, and that’s unacceptable in an organization like ours. Secrecy. Trust. These things are crucial to our work. You are crucial to our work, Ella.’
A suited man came in and discreetly tapped Redmayne on the shoulder, whispering something in his ear. He was rewarded with a look of intense irritation.
With great effort, Redmayne calmed himself before turning to Ella, a model of composure once again. ‘Will you excuse me?’ he asked smoothly. ‘I won’t be more than a few minutes.’ And he swiftly disappeared.
Ella glanced around the room. Waiting staff were still flitting in and out, which meant she couldn’t snoop around as much as she wanted to. But she did see that Redmayne had left his tablet lying on the desk near the window. Picking up a copy of Town and Country magazine, Ella pretended to read it while mentally scanning all the boss’s emails from today and yesterday, sent and received. There were a vast number, most of them business related. At first nothing leaped out at her. But after about a minute, she picked up an exchange between Redmayne and a [email protected] from late last night. KM. Ella wracked her brains and focused on the known identities within The Group … Katherine MacAvoy? The thread was entitled ‘EP meeting’. It was short but anything but sweet.
Mark Redmayne had opened the exchange. EP expected here tomorrow as you know. Any final briefing for me? M.
Camp Hope’s head took a full hour to send her first response. No further information, or contact with EP from our side. Surveillance reports as before.