Taking a deep breath, Simon picked up his letter opener and slit the envelope. He pulled out a single sheet of paper and looked down. Simon, My efforts, as you termed them, were met with success. I have removed myself to London, so that I might be near my family, and await your directive there. Yours, Daphne Simon didn’t know how long he sat there behind his desk, barely breathing, the cream-colored slip of paper hanging from his fingers. Then finally, a breeze washed over him, or perhaps the light changed, or the house creaked—but something broke him out of his reverie and he jumped to his
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