Finn frowned. “Never mind. That will do. Go on about your duties.”
He opened up the note. It was short and to the point. It said, “The maze, at one o’clock.” It was unsigned, but Finn knew who it was from.
The house seemed strangely empty now that all the guests had left. As Finn walked back into the reception hall, the heels of his shoes made sharp echoing sounds that filled the spacious room, which only a short while ago resounded with laughter, boisterous conversation, and violin music. It was a lovely way to live,
Finn thought. It might be very pleasant to spend the next several years as Sir Percy Blakeney, if it wasn’t for the fact that his lifespan could be drastically curtailed by some error he had yet to make.
There was still some time before one o’clock. Finn quickly went up to his rooms and changed out of his elegant, cream-colored suit, dressing in black riding clothes and boots, the better to blend in with the darkness. Just to be on the safe side he tucked a short dagger into his belt and took along a polished ebony sword cane with a heavy, solid silver head.
It was chilly and a mist had settled on the grounds. His boots made slight crunching sounds upon the gravel path as he walked around to the side of the house, his crackling steps a percussive counterpoint to the chirping of the crickets. He stepped off the path and onto the grass, heading for the elaborately arranged rows of perfectly trimmed hedges, eight feet high and four feet thick. There was no evidence of any other human presence about save for himself.
It occurred to him that the setting was perfectly suited for a trap. In the darkness, with the tall hedges all around him, it would be virtually impossible to see anything. Finn had good night vision, but the visibility was limited as a result of the darkness and the mist. The thought that somewhere nearby would-be a man trained at least as well as he was made him move slowly and cautiously as he entered the maze. Lucas had shown him how the placement of the urns indicated which turn to take. The benches were positioned so that the urns could only be seen from the correct paths, the view of them being otherwise blocked by the benches. Obviously, Mongoose knew this trick as well, else why choose the maze for a meeting place?
Moving with stealth, Finn made his way to the grassy square at the center of the maze. He could make out the ghostly white benches placed around the perimeter of the square, but not much else. He wished he had been issued night glasses, but the fact that he lacked such equipment did not mean that Mongoose would be equally at a disadvantage. Still, there was nothing else to do but sit down upon a bench and wait until Mongoose made his move. Finn waited nervously in the darkness, listening to the chirping of the crickets. At a little after one o’clock, he heard a faint sound of movement close by and then a familiar voice called out, softly, “Delaney?”
“I’m right here,” he said. “What’s the matter, can’t you see me?”
There was a chuckle that seemed to come from only a few yards away, but Finn could not accurately gauge the direction or the distance.
“Nice try, Delaney, but I happen to know that you weren’t issued night glasses. The only thing they gave you was a hypo ring, which just goes to show you how paranoid they’re getting.”
“Where are you?”
“Nearby,” Mongoose replied. He chuckled once more. “Where’s Priest? I didn’t see him at the party.”
“He’s around,” Finn lied. “I didn’t see you, either. But then, the way you keep changing your appearance, I wouldn’t have recognized you anyway. What’s your face look like these days? The last time I saw you, it had been rearranged a bit.”
The brief silence told Finn that he had scored a hit with his reference to the torture that had disfigured Mongoose.
“Well, we both look a bit different these days, don’t we?” Mongoose said. Finn realized that he was moving as he spoke. He seemed to be just outside the center of the maze now, in one of the paths between the hedgerows. Walking softly, Finn moved in the direction of his voice. “I see you’ve got de la Croix with you,” Mongoose continued. “Oh, yes, that’s right it’s Private Cross now, isn’t it? Well, it appears to be quite a reunion, all of us back together once again.”
“It must be kismet,” Finn said. “After the way you bungled your last mission, I thought they’d never let you near a field assignment again. Yet here you are. What a surprise.” Finn turned down another pathway, his eyes straining to penetrate the mist and darkness. “I heard you were busted down to desk jockey. Seems to me you were pretty lucky to get even that.”
“I wasn’t meant to be a glorified clerk, Delaney,” Mongoose said, with an edge to his voice. “Having me sitting behind a console was a sinful waste of talent and ability.”
“Your talent and ability almost got you killed last time,” said Finn, moving closer. “If it hadn’t been for us, Adrian Taylor would have vivisected you.”
“Perhaps,” said Mongoose. “Who’s to say how it might have turned out without your interference? You may have saved my life, in which case I suppose I should be grateful, but you also ruined my career. I realize that the one shouldn’t cancel out the other, but somehow it seems to. You’ll pardon me if I don’t seem properly appreciative.”
“Why don’t we cut out this kids’ game, Mongoose?” Finn said. “Come out and show yourself.”
“I’m afraid I’m not quite ready to do that just yet,” Mongoose said. “You see, we really have no basis for trust in this relationship. I know you’ve sent Priest to see Fitzroy. I just came from there. They didn’t see me, of course, but I saw them. The funny thing is, I really was your contact. We could have worked together, had you chosen to, but Fitzroy will obviously have me checked out. To tell the truth, I expected it. He’s served his purpose, however. It really doesn’t matter. The only thing you have accomplished is adding more spice to the game.”
Slowly, noiselessly, Finn slid the sword blade out of the cane. Mongoose sounded very close now, just on the opposite side of the hedge, separated from him by about four feet of bush.
“It was really very boring in evaluations,” Mongoose said. “It was a dead end for me. There was no challenge. This way-”
Finn plunged the sword deeply through the hedge, following it with the length of his entire arm. He heard Mongoose gasp.
“Very good, Delaney! But not good enough.”
Finn heard the sound of running footsteps. Cursing, he pulled the sword back out of the hedge and took off at a sprint, brushing his hand against the hedge as he ran to feel for the next gap in the bushes. He reached it, plunged through, made a quick right turn and ran down the path after Mongoose, his sword held out before him. Mongoose was running for the exit and there was only one way to get out of the maze beyond which the grounds were open for several hundred yards.
Finn came to a bench, noticed the placement of the urn, and turned down the path to the left. A right turn, another left…and he came to a dead end, running right into a leafy wall blocking off the pathway. Startled, he was confused for a moment until he realized that Mongoose must have moved the urns as he entered the maze behind him. He ran back the way he came, this time taking the “wrong” turns. He came to a dead end again.
“Son of a bitch!” he swore. Mongoose had only moved some of the urns. But which ones had he moved? It took him almost a half an hour to find the exit. By that time, Mongoose was long gone. Finn stood at the entrance to the maze, breathing hard. Except for the sounds of the crickets and his own labored breathing, he couldn’t hear a thing.
Thick fog obscured the grounds. He felt the tip of the blade. It was wet with blood.