Chapter Twenty-Eight: Two RussiansMolly had left to rendezvous with her old friends from Fraser's service days at the American Bar first, before enjoying the Gilbert and Sullivan dramatic operetta of Iolanthe at the Savoy Theatre. The three of us had dined together and afterwards she commended my housekeepers on their culinary skills and thoroughness in their other duties.
“I'm impressed,” she declared emphatically when her PPO escorted her to the waiting car for the short journey. As soon as the car pulled away from the courtyard below the panoramic windows of the apartment, Fraser lit his first pipe since his early evening arrival and I fetched the Jura.
We smoked, imbibed, and exchanged a variety of thoughts over the Macintosh, Grant, Trubnikov trilateral affair and reached an agreeme
