The phone rang, breaking the silence of the large, clean white office. Saruman lifted up the receiver with a simplistic grace. 'Yes?'

'I've found them,' said a dry voice.

'Have you?'

'Yes, they're up here in Boston,' the dry voice rasped.

'Well, well. Isn't that convenient. Good job, Grima,' Saruman purred.

'There's only one problem, they saw me.'

Saruman froze for a moment, and then let out a soft sigh. 'Is that so?'

'Yes, and there was someone with them.'

'Oh?'

'A tall elf, dark hair; he had an air of nobility about him.'

'Did he now? Did he also happen to have piercing grey eyes and the gentle hand of a healer?'

A pause.

'Yes, he did.'

'I see.' It must be Elrond. He would recognize Grima as being under my spell immediately; he will probably take them away. Yes, Elrond will try to hide them. There is no sense then in hurrying, to wait will be better. Do not rush after them; there are only so many places in the world to hide. I will find them. 'Badly done, Grima. Do not let them see you next time,' Saruman chided.

'Are you coming to get them?' the dry voice asked expectantly.

Saruman frowned. 'No, they will flee. Chasing them now would be pointless.' He paused and looked down at his nails. 'You should not have let them out of your sight. But what is done is done. Come back to me now. I have work for you here. Good-bye, Grima.' Saruman put down the receiver and looked out his window.

'Oh, Elrond, Elrond my dear, how very foolish of you. Are you not aware that there is nowhere to hide? Nowhere that I will not find you? It is a small world, Elrond, and one to which you do not belong.'

End of book one

The story will continue in book two: Of Maine and Men