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science of medicine in the nineteenth century； it remained a good one； even attracting students from West Germany； none of whom would attend the postmortem examinations ordered by the country's Belugyminiszterium； which would also be attended by the physician…in…residence at the Soviet Embassy。
The first done would be the adult male。 Technicians took blood samples from all three bodies for analysis in the adjacent laboratory。
〃This is the body of a male Caucasian； approximately thirty…five years of age； length approximately one hundred seventy…five centimeters； weight approximately seventy…six kilograms。 Color of hair cannot be determined due to extensive charring from a domestic fire。 Initial impression is death by fire…more probably from carbon monoxide intoxication； as the body shows no evidence of death throes。〃 Then the dissection began with the classical Y incision to open the body cavity for viewing of the internal organs。
He was examining the heart…unremarkable…when the lab reports came in。
〃Professor Biro； carbon monoxide in all three blood samples are well into lethal range；〃 the voice on the speaker said； giving the exact numbers。
Biro looked over at his Russian colleague。 〃Anything else you need？ I can do a full postmortem on all three victims here； but the cause of death is determined。 This man was not shot。 We will do fuller blood…chemistry checks； of course； but it's unlikely that they were poisoned； and there is clearly no bullet wound or other penetrating trauma in this man。 They were all killed by fire。 I will send you the full laboratory report this afternoon。〃 Biro let out a long breath。 〃A kurva eletbe！〃 he concluded with a popular Magyar epithet。
〃Such a pretty little girl；〃 the Russian internist observed。 Zaitzev's wallet had somehow survived the fire； along with its family photos。 The picture of Svetlana had been particularly engaging。
〃Death is never sentimental； my friend；〃 Biro told him。 As a pathologist； he knew that fact all too well。
〃Very well。 Thank you； rade Professor。〃 And the Russian took his leave； already thinking through his official report to Moscow。
CHAPTER 29 … REVELATION
The safe house was palatial； the country home of somebody with both money and taste； built in the previous century by the look of it； with stucco and the sort of heavy oaken timbers used to build ships like HMS
Victory once upon a time。 But landlocked； it was about as far from blue water as one could get on this island kingdom。
Evidently； Alan Kingshot knew it well enough； since he drove them there and then got them settled inside。 The two…person staff that ran the place looked like cops to Ryan； probably married and retired from the Police Force of the Metropolis； as the London Constabulary was officially known。 They kindly escorted their new guests to a rather nice suite of rooms。 Irina Zaitzev's eyes were agog at the acmodations； which were impressive even by Ryan's standards。 All Oleg Ivanovich did was set his shaving kit in the bathroom； strip off his clothes； and collapse onto the bed； where alcohol…aided sleep proved to be less than five minutes away。
Word got TO Judge Moore just before midnight that the package was safely ensconced in a very secure location； and with that information he also went to bed。 All that remained was to tell the Air Force to get a KC…135 or a similar aircraft ready to fly the package home； and that would take a mere telephone call to an officer in the Pentagon。 He wondered what the Rabbit would say； but he could wait for that。 Patience； once the dangerous stuff was behind； was not all that difficult for the Director of Central Intelligence。 It was like Christmas Eve； and while he wasn't exactly sure what would be under the tree； he could be confident that it wouldn't be anything bad。
For Sir Basil Charleston at his Belgravia house； the news came before breakfast； when a messenger from Century House arrived with the word。 An altogether pleasant way to start a working day； he thought； certainly better than some others he'd had。 He left home for the office just before seven A。M。； ready for his morning brief to outline the success of Operation BEATRIX。
Ryan was awakened by traffic noise。 Whoever had built this magnificent country home hadn't anticipated the construction of a motorway just three hundred yards away； but somehow Ryan had avoided a hangover from all the drinks on the flight in； and the lingering excitement of the moment had gotten him fully awake after a mere six and a half hours of slumber。 He washed up and made his way to the pleasant not…so…little breakfast room。 Alan Kingshot was there； working on his morning tea。
〃Probably coffee for you； eh？〃
〃If you have any。〃
〃Only instant；〃 Kingshot warned。
Jack stifled his disappointment。 〃Better than no coffee at all。〃
〃Eggs Benedict？〃 the retired woman cop asked。
〃Ma'am； for that I will forgive the absence of Starbucks；〃 Jack replied； with a smile。 Then he saw the morning papers； and he thought that reality and normality had finally returned to his life。 Well； almost。
〃Mr。 and Mrs。 Thompson run this house for us；〃 Kingshot explained。 〃Nick was a homicide detective with the Yard； and Emma was in administration。〃
〃That's what my dad used to do；〃 Ryan observed。 〃How did you guys get working for SIS？〃
〃Nick worked on the Markov case；〃 Mrs。 Thompson answered。
〃And did a damned good job of it； too；〃 Kingshot told Ryan。 〃He would have been a fine field officer for us。〃
〃Bond； James Bond？〃 Nick Thompson said； walking into the kitchen。 〃I think not。 Our guests are moving about。 It sounds as though the little girl got them up。〃
〃Yeah；〃 Jack observed。 〃Kids will do that。 So； we do the debrief here or somewhere else？〃
〃We were planning to do it in Somerset； but I decided last night not to drive them around too much。 Why stress them out？〃 Kingshot asked rhetorically。 〃We just took title to this house last year； and it's as fortable a place as any。 The one in Somerset…near Taunton…is a touch more isolated； but these people ought not to bolt； you think？〃
〃If he goes home； he's one dead Rabbit；〃 Ryan thought out loud。 〃He has to know that。 On the plane； he was worried that we were KGB and this was all an elaborate maskirovka setup； I think。 His wife did a lot of shopping in Budapest。 Maybe we have somebody take her shopping around here？〃 the American wondered。 〃Then we can talk to him in fort。 His English seems okay。 Do we have anybody here with good Russian？〃
〃My job；〃 Kingshot told Ryan。
〃First thing we want to know； why the hell did he decide to skip town？〃
〃Obviously； but then； what's all this lot about promised munications？〃
〃Yeah。〃 Ryan took a deep breath。 〃I imagine people are jumping out windows about that one。〃
〃Too bloody right；〃 Kingshot confirmed。
〃So； Al； you've worked Moscow？〃
The Brit nodded。 〃Twice。 Good sport it was； but rather tense the whole time I was there。〃
〃Where else？〃
〃Warsaw and Bucharest。 I speak all the languages。 Tell me； how was Andy Hudson？〃
〃He's a star； Al。 Very smooth and confident all the way…knows his turf； good contacts。 He took pretty good care of me。〃
〃Here's your coffee； Sir John；〃 Mrs。 Thompson said； bringing his cup of Taster's Choice。 The Brits were good people； and their food； Ryan thought； was wrongly maligned； but they didn't know beans about coffee； and that was that。 But it was still better than tea。
The Eggs Benedict arrived shortly thereafter； and at that dish； Mrs。 Thompson could have given lessons。 Ryan opened his paper…it was the Times…and relaxed to get reacquainted with the world。 He'd call Cathy in about an hour when he was at work。 With luck； he might even see her in a couple days。 In a perfect world； he'd have a copy of an American paper； or maybe the International Tribune； but the world was not yet perfect。 There was no sense asking how the World Series was going。 It was going to start tomorrow； wasn't it？ How good were the Phillies this year？ Well； as usual； you played the games to find out。
〃So； how was the trip； Jack？〃 Kingshot asked。
〃Alan； those field officers earn every nickel they make。 How you deal with the constant