Chapter Forty-five

Savich house

Georgetown

Early Sunday morning

"Savich."

"Luckily, her Bentley was equipped with a distress alarm connected to Darlington Hall and local police emergency, and constables arrived very quickly. She was shaken, of course, but uninjured. The weather was—still is—filthy, so she didn't see much, only the two men, both in black clothes and masks, and a driver in the dark van. The attack was unexpected and vicious."

Savich said, "If whoever is behind this wants revenge, they could have simply killed Elizabeth's mother."

"But they didn't. Oh, yes, I did confirm Aboud and Samir Basara knew each other, but not well."

"They'd have to have been blood brothers for Aboud to feel strongly enough about him to go after Elizabeth with his helicopter."

Savich punched off and turned to Sherlock, who was up on her elbow listening intently.

Sherlock said, "Should we wake her up and tell her now?"

"If we did, she'd be on the phone making reservations for the first flight to London. Let's wait until morning."

She added in a sleep-slurred voice, "Whatever this is about, Aboud's not the key to all this."

But then what was it about? "Sleep now, sweetheart. We won't figure it out unless we get some sleep."