She’d already had a few glasses to celebrate what she felt would be a sweet victory. She had vacuumed, dusted, and plumped up the cushions. She felt excited and powerful, and a little light-headed from the wine as she looked over the “stage” she had set. She went to her desk and called Matheson. He listened as she told him she had received his final invoice and would be sending him a check. She also told him she had tracked down Philip Simmons in London. “He’s in the U.K., then?” Matheson asked. “Yes, and I’m expecting him to come and see me now.” “Well, congratulations. Job well done. Does he know where Moreno is?” “I presume so. All will be divulged soon enough. I’m sure I’ll get my investment repaid, perhaps even more for all the trouble it’s caused me.” Sylvia was pleased with herself. “I might send you a little extra, Mr. Matheson.” The doorbell rang, and she stood up. “I have to go. He’s arrived. Thank you so much again.” She was still pleased with herself as she ushered de Jersey into the drawing room, gesturing for him to sit as she took his coat.
