There were all kinds of pastries on the beautiful green-and-white-striped china, and Cordelia was examining them as Sinclair appeared. “We’re all set,” Sinclair said, taking a seat and pouring himself a cup of tea. “We have a rental car and will drive out to Cliffmere tomorrow, first thing in the morning.” Cordelia consulted her watch, dabbing her lips with a napkin. “Quarter after three. After your tea, we’ll head out to meet Jim Gardiner at the house.” “Where are we going?” Cordelia looked up at Sinclair with a laugh. “I have to check the address. Jim Gardiner says it’s nearby, but I’ve never been there.” In the exclusive Mayfair district of London, Grosvenor Square was a luxurious green oasis with flower beds and wrought-iron benches. The park was filled with people walking their dogs, and nannies chatting as their infant charges slept in Silver Cross prams. Schoolchildren were riding bikes along the symmetrical paths. The day was balmy, and a half dozen office workers sat sunning themselves, unwilling to go back indoors.
