By the time they had finished dinner that evening,
Alexander seemed to feel much more comfortable around Elaine. Still nervous,
but the excited type of nervous.
While they ate, Kathy spoke very little, listening to Alex
rattle on as Elaine asked him about his school work and how he liked each
subject.
By the time dessert was served, the boy seemed exhausted
from all the stress and excitement of having a new person around and asked if
he could go up to his room.
“You certainly may,” Spyro said, and gave him a playful
slap on the behind as he left the room.
Kathy excused herself, too.
When they were alone in the dining room, sipping Greek
coffee, Spyro spent a few minutes filling Elaine in on the general way the
household functioned, Alex’s study schedule, along with his music and sports
lessons times.
“Other than those activities, you’re free to do whatever
you want—use the gym, sauna, pool, watch TV in the living room, walk down the
steps to the beach. If you want to drive around the island, we have a nice ‘guest
car,’ a Porsche convertible.”
“Also, we have wifi throughout the house—I’ll give you the
password for your phone and laptop.”
“I don’t have a computer.”
Spyro looked astonished. “You don’t have a
computer?”
“Of course not, we have plenty of computers here. I’m just
surprised you don’t have one, especially being a teacher. You said you were
good with computers—”
“I am good with computers, but I think children spend far
too much time on them and on their phones these days playing games and so
forth. I don’t want to set a bad example—it’s better to use the clients’
equipment for teaching and then stay off of them otherwise.”
From Spyro’s expression, Elaine thought she’d scored big
points again. The real reason she had no computer with her was that she thought
it was too risky. She would have had to buy a used one and pack it with
information that Patricia Carter was likely to have accumulated over a
significant period of time, which was too much trouble. And a brand new one
might raise suspicion. The only electronic device she had with her was the
phone she had been supplied with in London. She had set it up with a dozen fake
contacts in England, France and the USA, the places she had supposedly lived.
“But you will need a local SIM for your phone,” Spyro said,
and he pulled a small plastic bag from his shirt pocket. When he handed it to
her, she saw that it contained a SIM card, but it was completely blank, with no
printing on it. “We use our own private cell tower, not the public ones—the
signal is too weak here.”
“Thank you,” Elaine said, and started to put the little
plastic bag with the SIM card in her purse.
“Why don’t you put it in right now so we can make sure it
works?”
Elaine smiled, pulled out her phone, and handed it to him. On
the inside, she tried not to show how caught off guard and vulnerable she felt.
She and Luna hadn’t planned on this—before she left London, they had assumed
she could at least get away with sending a text message to and from her phone. She
had little doubt that this wonderful free SIM card would allow Spyro to monitor
every phone call, text message, and email she received.
After he inserted the card and snapped the cover back into
place, he smiled and handed the phone back to her. “All set now. And here’s
your old SIM card.”
Elaine had to figure out some way around this. Nothing
would be secure on that phone now. She would have to sneak off to the airport
at the first opportunity and buy a disposable phone like the one she’d had to
leave behind in London. She had noticed at least one kiosk selling them when
they had passed through the airport lobby.
Spyro leaned back in
his chair and, after thinking for a moment, said, “I guess the only other thing
you should know is that there are no cameras in the house on the interior of
the property, inside the rock walls. You may have noticed that there is a lot
of security equipment around the exterior, but there is nothing at all on the
inside, anywhere. I’m a big believer in personal space and privacy.”
“Nice to know,” Elaine said. She had learned the truth
about this lofty-sounding policy from Kathy. At one time Spyro had packed
nearly the entire interior of the house with hidden cameras and microphones,
but had learned, through experience, that the more paranoid he appeared to his
staff, the more they were tempted to snoop. Now, even his library/office was
unmonitored. Supposedly.
“Do you enjoy reading? I assume you probably do, being a
teacher...”
“Of course. I love to read.”
Spyro nodded approvingly. “We have an excellent collection
of both fiction and non-fiction in English in our library. I’m constantly
adding books for Alex to read ‘someday.’ The only thing I ask is that you limit
your time in that room, just to go in and browse and take what you want—the
space doubles as my office.”
“I understand,” Elaine said. She knew that’s also where his
safe happened to be.
He finished off the rest his coffee, looking lost in
thought.
Elaine wanted to speak again, but hesitated.
“I assume I have the job, then?”
Spyro laughed. “Oh yes, of course you have the job, I
should have said that right off! It’s obvious that you meet my son’s exacting
standards.”
“Whew,” Elaine said under her breath. “Thank you, Mister
Leandrou.”
Spyro chuckled at this, and he motioned to her with his prosthetic
hand. “You have a lot more charm than our last governess, I have to say,
although she was an excellent teacher and sports companion for my son. No
complaints about the standards of her work.”
“Well I hope I can match them.”
“My instincts about people are rarely wrong—I’m sure you’ll
exceed them.” Spyro glanced at his watch. “I’m also sure you’re exhausted, too,
and so am I.” He stood up. “See you at breakfast in the morning? We eat at
eight-thirty sharp, which in Greece, means about nine or so.”
Elaine laughed. “
Kaliníhta, Mister
Leandrou
.”
He chuckled at her use of the local language, but looked
pleased that she made the effort. “
Kaliníhta, Patricia
.”
The governess’ room was as magnificent as Elaine expected
it would be, situated on the other side of a large bathroom on the same side of
the hall as Alexander’s. It afforded a splendid view of the sea and the smaller
volcanic island farther out. In the darkness, Nea Kameni Island was no more
than a dim outline in the distance.
But Elaine was hardly in a frame of mind for admiring
views. She was ninety percent sure that Spyro Leandrou did not suspect her of
anything, but the damn “private” SIM card he had given her had caught her off
guard. It was crucial for her to send a message to Luna indicating that she was
all right, that this had not been a trap. In addition, Spyro himself would
certainly be expecting her to send some text messages or emails to her friends
and family telling them that she had arrived safely on the island, and to give
them her new phone number. She had little doubt that Spyro or his security
people were already monitoring the phone.
As she mulled over exactly how to handle this problem, she
unpacked her suitcase and confronted another one—where to hide her pistol? Fortunately,
her room featured an en-suite bathroom, and it was already equipped with a blow
dryer. Borrowing a page from Spyro’s philosophy, she simply set the leather
toilet kit containing the hidden, disassembled Sig on the top shelf of the
closet, right out in the open. It was difficult to tell that it concealed a gun
unless you knew what you were looking for.
Other than that, Elaine had nothing to hide except her own
thoughts and knowledge about her host, and her plans to thoroughly investigate
him and his businesses.
She hung all her clothes in the wardrobe, double checking
the labels to make absolutely sure there was nothing she’d bought anywhere except
in the UK or France.
When she finished, she pulled out her phone—she decided
that one group text message would do to notify her “friends and family” of her
safe arrival. Her phone’s contacts were already filled with a dozen names and
phone numbers in the USA, UK, and France. Only two of the numbers connected
with real people—all the others would reach voicemails of fictitious people who
matched the names in her Contacts, set up by Luna and the Secret Service back
office. This sort of backstopping was routine for undercover ops in case a
suspect were to get hold of the operative’s phone and unlock it. The only two “real”
people in her contacts were labeled Nick LaGrange, a former employer that would
be reasonable for Patricia Carter to still have, and Luna Anderson, an American
friend in the UK who was also a governess. The latter of course was actually
Luna Faye. The number would forward to her Secret Service phone no matter where
it was located, anywhere in the world.
Elaine thought for a moment and then composed a message
that would accomplish the most important goal on the receiving end—letting Luna
know about the fishy SIM card. She also included some words to stroke Spyro’s
ego:
Hi, everyone it’s Patricia! Sorry for the group message
but I’m exhausted—arrived safe and sound on Santorini Island, Greece. I’m so
excited about my new job! The boy I’m in charge of is adorable, and seems so
smart. And this house—it’s like something out of a movie.
My boss just gave me a new SIM card because they use a
private cell tower here, and I’m texting everyone so you all have my new
number. I’ll be super busy the next few days getting my feet on the ground. Talk
to you soon!
She read it over. She was fairly sure the phrase “my boss
just gave me a new SIM card” would clue in Luna that the number she had sent
the message from was anything but secure.
She group-sent the message to five of the contacts: four of
the fake people and Luna.
Then, she unpacked her charger, plugged the phone into it, and
set it on the dresser, making sure the screen was off, which locked it.
By ten o’clock, Elaine was snuggled under the covers of the
spacious queen-sized bed.
As she closed her eyes, she thought
I did it!
Step One accomplished.
On to Step Two!
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