“And when she asks who coordinated it?”
“You answer.”
The next word was barely audible. “Maria.”
“Yes.”
Cabot sighed. “I’m not going to be able to write about this for four months. I don’t know what to do with it between now and then.”
“You let it sit, and you visit Eleanor again, as a friend of the family. The piece you write in April will be a better piece for the four months,” Samuel said.
Cabot looked at Samuel. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You did.”
My phone buzzed.
“Voss is down,” Eamon said. “Voss tried to make an outbound call when the breach started. The team had the cell jammer up.”
“Who’d she try to call?” I asked.
“We’ll know by the time you’re on the ferry. Probably Costa. Possibly the Vineyard directly.”
“The names Köhler gave us—Stein and Verhaege?”
“Stein’s on the warrant,” Eamon said. “Federal has him at a residence in Lowell. He’s a logistics layer between Maria and the Lowell vendor. They take him at oh-five-twenty. Verhaege is a ghost. Federal believes he’s the operative the device was being handed off to once it left Auburndale, but they haven’t placed him on the ground in the Northeast. Working theory is that he never left Brussels. The wedding plan didn’t require him personally. It required someone Henry would name if pressed, to keep the network looking larger than it was.”
“Costa next?”
“Yes.”
He went off the line.
“Voss,” I announced to the room.
The aroma of rosemary filled the room. “Now, my stomach’s rumbling,” Farrow said.
“Dane, when this is done in the kitchen on the Vineyard at three this afternoon, what happens to Maria?” Wiley asked.
“Federal walks her out the service door at three. She’s at Falmouth by four-thirty. She’ll be processed and held overnight. Arraignment Wednesday.”
“And the household?”
“The household stays. Eleanor keeps her people. Federal will want interviews from the kitchen and ground staff, but she might want the wedding to go as planned. Federal will likely be on the property through the end of the week.”
The phone buzzed.
“Costa,” Eamon said. “Costa fired one round at the door when team three came in. No agents hit. Costa took a round to the shoulder and is conscious; transport en route. It’s not a fatal wound.”
Eamon ended the call.
“Costa is down now, too,” I reported to the room. “He shot back.”
“Injuries?” Wiley asked.
“Nothing fatal,” I said. “Costa took a hit to the shoulder. He’s on the way to the hospital.”