Page 13 of The Spy Who Loved Tea

“Yes. Yes, I understand. OmniCorp’s interests are paramount. The Viper Protocol is in effect. I know.” He was pacing faster now, his footsteps marking a frantic rhythm on the creaking boards. “But the timeline⁠—“

Vera’s mind snagged on the words. OmniCorp. Viper Protocol.

The stylised ‘O’ on the letterhead. The corporation Finch was trying to identify. Now she had a name.

“The lithium deposit is still secure,” Pym was saying. “No one knows. Barnaby was the only one who figured it out, and he’s—he’s been dealt with. But the properties—I need more time. These people don’t just sign away their land because a stranger in a suit asks nicely. They’re stubborn.”

Vera felt something click into place in her mind. A tumbler falling, a lock opening.

Lithium.

Li ✓ HP

The ledger. The cryptic entries. Li wasn’t a name. It was an element. Lithium. And Zn—zinc. HP—high purity?

Barnaby hadn’t been tracking payments or blackmail. He’d been documenting mineral surveys. Someone had been taking soil samples across the village, testing what lay beneath each property. And under Lark’s End, under the chalk and clay that everyone assumed was worthless⁠—

There was lithium. Enough lithium to kill for.

“The Gable woman is close to breaking,” Pym continued. “I’ve applied pressure. She’ll sign by tomorrow, noon at the latest. The Vicar is a problem—he’s got some moral objection to selling church land—but I can work around him. It’s the others I’m worried about. Vickery won’t even take my calls, and the Calloway woman⁠—”

Vera’s heart stuttered.

“She was at the pub last night. Asking questions. Playing the dotty old lady, but there was something off about her. The way she looked at me—” Pym’s voice tightened. “I’m telling you, she’s not what she seems.”

The voice on the phone spoke again. Vera strained to hear, pressing closer to the wall.

“Calloway?” Pym repeated. “You’re checking her out? Good. Because I’m telling you, something’s wrong with that woman. She looked at me like she could see right through me.”

A longer pause. Then Pym laughed—a nervous, brittle sound.

“Redacted? Her file is redacted? What does that mean?”

Vera felt a chill run down her spine. They were looking into her. Someone at OmniCorp had resources—serious resources, the kind that could access files that shouldn’t exist anymore.

How much would they find? Her Service records had been buried deep, sanitized and scattered across a dozen archives. But no burial was ever complete. There were always traces for those who knew where to dig.

“Fine,” Pym said. “Fine. I’ll keep my distance. But if she’s some kind of... I don’t know, retired spook or something... then this whole operation is compromised. You need to tell your man. The one with the—the doctor. He needs to know there might be a professional in the field.”

Your man. The doctor.

So the grey-eyed killer wasn’t working directly with Pym. He was someone else’s asset—a contractor, perhaps, or an in-house specialist that OmniCorp deployed for sensitive situations. Pym was afraid of him. That much was clear from the tremor in his voice.

“Phase Two,” Pym repeated, as if memorizing instructions. “Noon tomorrow. If the signatures aren’t secured by then, we move to... alternative methods. I understand.”

A pause.

“And the Calloway woman?”

The response was too quiet for Vera to catch, even with her equipment. But Pym’s answer was clear enough.

“Understood. If she becomes a problem, the doctor will handle it.”

Vera heard the click of Pym hanging up, followed by a sound as if Pym had slumped into a chair. A long, shaky exhalation. Then silence.

Vera waited a full thirty seconds before moving. She picked up the plate of biscuits, walked softly to Pym’s door, and set them down on the worn carpet outside.

She didn’t knock. That wasn’t the point.