The Accidental Assassin
Page 70
“Yes, ma’am.” I reached and took her large purse so that I could carry it to the snazzy black sedan waiting for us. I was careful to stay half a step behind her as we exited the building. Practicing for our time in Scotland.
“So much for keeping a low cover. This is rather ostentatious,” I muttered under my breath.
“People will be looking for an anxious American woman wearing giant sunglasses and a hoodie. They will look right past the business woman and her assistant.” She smiled over her shoulder. “People see what they want to see.”
“That’s what Owen said.” I frowned. “But if people are looking for me, won’t they see me?”
“Not if your nose is buried in your phone or tablet as I give you work to do. They will only see an overbearing boss and an overworked lackey. The key is to be your part. If you play it right, no one will notice you.”
“I’m a terrible liar, Mavis.” I shuddered. “And I doubt I’m a much better actress.”
“That’s why you have me. Relax.”
A man with a black hat opened the back door for us. Our bags were already in the car and once inside, I started stuffing my new clothes into the carry on we’d just bought, careful to remove all the tags.
“Right then. Here are our tickets.” Mavis opened an envelope that had been in her seat. “Refer to me as Ms. Thomasino.”
“Won’t you need to hand them your ticket?” I looked over the paperwork she was handing me.
“They won’t fuss if you hand it to them and I’m there with you. We want them to think that you are used to doing everything for me. My personal lackey.” She opened her briefcase and brought out a tablet and phone. “These are yours. Georgie procured these for us while you were getting your hair done.”
“Georgie?” I looked up at the driver. He was an older man, nondescript, his little black hat covering short gray hair.
“Georgie has done odd jobs for me for a very long time.” She smiled at the man watching us in his mirror. “Isn’t that right, Georgie?”
“Aye, it is. Long time now.” His accent was so thick I could barely make out the words. “Ever since I caught her trying to steal my wallet.”
“It wasn’t your wallet, Georgie.” Mavis pretended to frown. “I’d watched you nick it from the mark talking to a PC. Fair game.”
“A’ight then.” He smiled the way a grandfather would at his favorite grandchild. “I’ve not been able to shake her since. Somehow ended up on her payroll.”
“You know the most interesting people, Mavis.” I put the tablet and phone in the briefcase. Careful so I wouldn’t bend anything, I put the tickets and my new identification in the purse. Both bags looked obscenely empty.
“You have no idea, dear.” She smiled. “But Georgie is useful.”
“Aye, and trustworthy.” He winked at me through the mirror.
“As long as I’m paying the best.” Mavis glowered.
“Ah now, you never let me down,” Georgie announced. “I printed out the papers you asked for and picked up the little things.”
I wasn’t sure exactly what Georgie had said, but looked through the bag and smiled.
“Chapstick!” I pulled a tube from the bag and held it to my chest. “Oh, I’ve missed having my Chapstick.”
“It’s the little things in life.” Mavis held her hand out for the bag and passed out the pens and mints. She handed me the rest of the stuff, which consisted of toiletries, and I put them in the overnight bag.
“Where are we headed now?” I looked out the window, watching as the city rushed by. I’d barely scratched the surface while touring the last week. There was still so much more to see.
“Kings Cross.” Mavis was playing with her cell phone.
“Are we taking the Hogwarts Express?” I couldn’t help my grin. Kings Cross was one of the places I’d been planning on visiting. “Will you take my picture at platform 9 ¾?”
“Sure, we’ll stop and take selfies pushing the pretend cart through the wall.” She leveled her gaze at me, her best you-are-an-idiot look firmly in place.
“C’mon. It’s Harry Potter! I need my picture taken there.” I leaned back in my seat. “This whole being on England’s most wanted list has put a real cramp into my tourist plans.”
“After this is all over I’ll take your picture wherever you want.” Mavis closed her purse and clasped her hands. “And think about it. You’re about to ride a private jet all the way to Paris. I bet you didn’t plan on that when you decided to move to England.”
“True.” I shrugged. “Of course, I won’t be me on the flight, and I’ll be praying that no one tries to kill us the whole time.”
“Focus on Paris. We’ll make time to stop at a bakery. Nothing smells quite as good as a Parisian bakery first thing in the morning. The fresh bread, the sweet fillings, candies. You have to experience it.” She looked over at me. “I’m sure we’ll be able to make time for that at some point.”
“So we can make time for éclairs, but not for the Hogwarts Express?” I pouted.
“You know, I thought it would be easier to travel with you than with Kenny.”
“Funny.” I rolled my eyes. “It’s Harry Potter. Shouldn’t you have some sort of British pride when it comes to the Boy Who Lived?”
“So much for keeping a low cover. This is rather ostentatious,” I muttered under my breath.
“People will be looking for an anxious American woman wearing giant sunglasses and a hoodie. They will look right past the business woman and her assistant.” She smiled over her shoulder. “People see what they want to see.”
“That’s what Owen said.” I frowned. “But if people are looking for me, won’t they see me?”
“Not if your nose is buried in your phone or tablet as I give you work to do. They will only see an overbearing boss and an overworked lackey. The key is to be your part. If you play it right, no one will notice you.”
“I’m a terrible liar, Mavis.” I shuddered. “And I doubt I’m a much better actress.”
“That’s why you have me. Relax.”
A man with a black hat opened the back door for us. Our bags were already in the car and once inside, I started stuffing my new clothes into the carry on we’d just bought, careful to remove all the tags.
“Right then. Here are our tickets.” Mavis opened an envelope that had been in her seat. “Refer to me as Ms. Thomasino.”
“Won’t you need to hand them your ticket?” I looked over the paperwork she was handing me.
“They won’t fuss if you hand it to them and I’m there with you. We want them to think that you are used to doing everything for me. My personal lackey.” She opened her briefcase and brought out a tablet and phone. “These are yours. Georgie procured these for us while you were getting your hair done.”
“Georgie?” I looked up at the driver. He was an older man, nondescript, his little black hat covering short gray hair.
“Georgie has done odd jobs for me for a very long time.” She smiled at the man watching us in his mirror. “Isn’t that right, Georgie?”
“Aye, it is. Long time now.” His accent was so thick I could barely make out the words. “Ever since I caught her trying to steal my wallet.”
“It wasn’t your wallet, Georgie.” Mavis pretended to frown. “I’d watched you nick it from the mark talking to a PC. Fair game.”
“A’ight then.” He smiled the way a grandfather would at his favorite grandchild. “I’ve not been able to shake her since. Somehow ended up on her payroll.”
“You know the most interesting people, Mavis.” I put the tablet and phone in the briefcase. Careful so I wouldn’t bend anything, I put the tickets and my new identification in the purse. Both bags looked obscenely empty.
“You have no idea, dear.” She smiled. “But Georgie is useful.”
“Aye, and trustworthy.” He winked at me through the mirror.
“As long as I’m paying the best.” Mavis glowered.
“Ah now, you never let me down,” Georgie announced. “I printed out the papers you asked for and picked up the little things.”
I wasn’t sure exactly what Georgie had said, but looked through the bag and smiled.
“Chapstick!” I pulled a tube from the bag and held it to my chest. “Oh, I’ve missed having my Chapstick.”
“It’s the little things in life.” Mavis held her hand out for the bag and passed out the pens and mints. She handed me the rest of the stuff, which consisted of toiletries, and I put them in the overnight bag.
“Where are we headed now?” I looked out the window, watching as the city rushed by. I’d barely scratched the surface while touring the last week. There was still so much more to see.
“Kings Cross.” Mavis was playing with her cell phone.
“Are we taking the Hogwarts Express?” I couldn’t help my grin. Kings Cross was one of the places I’d been planning on visiting. “Will you take my picture at platform 9 ¾?”
“Sure, we’ll stop and take selfies pushing the pretend cart through the wall.” She leveled her gaze at me, her best you-are-an-idiot look firmly in place.
“C’mon. It’s Harry Potter! I need my picture taken there.” I leaned back in my seat. “This whole being on England’s most wanted list has put a real cramp into my tourist plans.”
“After this is all over I’ll take your picture wherever you want.” Mavis closed her purse and clasped her hands. “And think about it. You’re about to ride a private jet all the way to Paris. I bet you didn’t plan on that when you decided to move to England.”
“True.” I shrugged. “Of course, I won’t be me on the flight, and I’ll be praying that no one tries to kill us the whole time.”
“Focus on Paris. We’ll make time to stop at a bakery. Nothing smells quite as good as a Parisian bakery first thing in the morning. The fresh bread, the sweet fillings, candies. You have to experience it.” She looked over at me. “I’m sure we’ll be able to make time for that at some point.”
“So we can make time for éclairs, but not for the Hogwarts Express?” I pouted.
“You know, I thought it would be easier to travel with you than with Kenny.”
“Funny.” I rolled my eyes. “It’s Harry Potter. Shouldn’t you have some sort of British pride when it comes to the Boy Who Lived?”
