✏️ The Littlest Spy

28. Target Identified

Isadora's heart pounded as they walked up the gravel driveway. The house was massive, even compared to the Kleins' new home. At the end of the driveway, seven cars were parked. It was hard to tell whether some people had decided to drive here, even from the other side of the same neighbourhood, or if all of these vehicles belonged to the Arrencanis. Isadora felt like she should be able to recognise them all; she could see the plates as she walked past, and all the vehicle registrations for their new neighbours had been tabulated in the massive pack of docs they had been given. But right now she was trying to remember too much too fast, and she couldn't recall the right names for the right vehicles.

She took a deep breath, and looked back towards the imposing mock-colonial home again. The setting sun cast a warm glow which somehow drew attention to the ivy climbing all over the brickwork, and made the house look like the whole landscape had been constructed around it. They were surrounded by hedges now, far enough that the garden didn't seem boxed in but high enough to hide the rest of this gated community.

"This is it," Isadora whispered, her eyes wide as she took in the grandeur of their surroundings. "Our first real chance to see Arrencani in action, to understand how he operates."

"And we've heard so much about him, haven't we, Mrs Klein?" Brock said, his expression neutral. His hand drifted down to rest on the small of her back, and that gesture as well as the words reminded her who she was supposed to be now. She wasn't a spy scoping out their suspect, she was a newlywed woman visiting her new neighbourhood's Home Owners' Committee for the first time. And there was no way to know if they were being overheard here, so even in the absence of obvious witnesses, she should keep from talking about her worries.

She sighed. To her, this had seemed like a crucial step forward in their investigation. And maybe it was; but Brock didn't show any sign of optimism, or of nerves. Maybe he was just playing his role very well, but it still bothered Isadora that she couldn't be sure what he was really feeling. Did he realise how much they might be able to find out?

As they approached the grand oak door, it swung open to reveal a tall, distinguished-looking man in an impeccable suit. His posture was ramrod straight, and his expression was one of polite detachment. Geoffrey; Isadora pinned the name to his face after a short while. The butler, although he looked less like how she would expect a butler to look in the real world, and a lot more like he had stepped straight off the set of some period drama.

"Good evening," he said, with a British accent that fit the role perfectly, with just the slightest hint of French in some of the vowels. Isadora let herself smile, and tried not to wonder too much about the man while she was standing right in front of him. She didn't want to arouse any kind of suspicion. "Mr. and Mrs. Klein, I presume? Please, come in. Mr Arrencani is waiting in the drawing room."

"It's lovely to meet you," Isadora smiled warmly, and just about managed to avoid greeting him by name when she realised that he hadn't actually introduced himself. "Thank you for having us."

When they stepped inside, she found herself looking around at the foyer, frozen in surprise. It was a big step up from what she was used to. Her apartment had never been big enough to have any space that wasn't used for something. Their new house in Evergreen Estates had a large hallway which had so far escaped clutter, and a landing upstairs containing only ornaments; but there was a world of difference between that and a house with an actual foyer. A staircase looped around three of the walls, surrounding a space that was probably large enough to contain her bedroom; or three bedrooms stacked on top of each other, given the amount of empty space between them and the glass panels in the roof above.

The glass ornament hanging from the centre of the roof wasn't a chandelier; the word sounded too archaic and pretentious. But she was sure it would serve the same function, scattering the sunlight into rainbows which danced across the marble floor with every breath of a breeze. The walls were decorated with paintings in a whole range of styles, and it was easy to imagine that Arrencani had decorated this space specifically to impress visitors with his success. There were levels of extravagant wealth, she realised. Most of the neighbours here had houses that could comfortably fit a family of eight, so he had to go one step beyond if he wanted to impress them.