The Guardian (28 page)

Louis stared blankly at him. “You’ll have your scroll before next week.”

“Well, I certainly hope so,” Lucifer said. “For your sake.” He stepped over to Wickham’s desk and sat down at his chair. “Now, on to other business. I do have to say, you have rather impressed me on the other matter. I mean, to actually
murder
the pope? Incredible! For a while there, I thought you were going to screw that up, too.”

“I’m going to be busy this week. It’ll be like a circus around here,” Wickham muttered.

“Yes it will. I will leave you to your business. But I’m telling you, Louis. After you see to it that Joseph gets elected, I’d better get that scroll. For two thousand years I’ve searched for it. And your predecessors failed me. I promised them the same things I’ve promised you. They couldn’t get the job done. And now they are paying for it. Don’t make me show you how they are spending their eternities. It’s not pretty.”

“What’s on the scroll?” Wickham asked.

“I don’t know,” said Lucifer. “But I do know what it does.”

“What’s it do?” Wickham asked

“It keeps me from owning this world free and clear. And that means it keeps you from having all the power I promised you.” “I’ll get the scroll.”

“Like I said, let’s hope you do. For your sake.”

I
need to see Cardinal Wickham.” Hale stared at the receptionist. She looked at him as if he were speaking Japanese. He was getting impatient. The woman hadn’t said one word to him since he’d been standing there. She just held the receiver of the phone she was holding to her ear. She was nodding her head up and down, as if the person on the other end could hear her nodding. Again she held up a finger, letting Hale know he was going to have to wait until she was finished.

He had barely gotten the plane in the air when the news came over the radio. Pope Paul was dead. At first he couldn’t believe it. Hale truly loved the man. He wasn’t just a spiritual teacher for him, he was like a father. Hale had never known his father, and Paul had treated him like a son.

He spent most of the long flight crying and recalling memories of Paul and himself. Some were nothing more than simple conversations they had shared. Others were more significant. One in particular came to him, the day he became a Christian. Paul had been the one who led him to make that decision. It was, Hale thought, the best day of his life.

His last conversation with Paul, over the phone, let him know that there were enemies of the Vatican within its own walls. Paul’s death couldn’t have been due to some flu. It had to be something more involved than that. And he had a feeling that a certain nosy cardinal was to blame.

The woman at the desk finally hung up the phone and stared at him with an uninterested look.

Hale repeated himself for the third time. “I need to see Cardinal Wickham.”

“I’m afraid he’s busy right now. Is there something I can help you with?”

Hale sighed in frustration. He didn’t like being rude with people, but he saw no other choice. “Listen, lady. I understand that the cardinal is busy. I know he’s dealing with everything that’s going on today.”

“We lost our spiritual father today, sir. I think you could be a little more sympathetic.”

That was it. Hale had reached his limit. “What’s your name, miss?”

“Claire. Claire Costello.”

“Well, Claire, here’s the deal. I’m going to ask you again to get Cardinal Wickham for me. After that, I’m going to go find him myself. When I do, I’m going to let him know how you let one of his special agents, with level-nine clearance, I might add, sit out here when he needed to give the cardinal a highly classified message.”

The woman looked at him blankly. “I don’t know of any special agents with level-nine clearance, nor do I have any idea what it means.”

“Well, you’re looking at one right now. And he’s not enjoying this little jousting session with you. Now, where’s the cardinal?”

The woman moved her arm across the desk and lifted the phone. She never took her eyes off Hale. She pushed a button and spoke. “Cardinal Wickham, I have a Special Agent Hale here to see you …. Uh-huh …. Okay. I’ll tell him.” She hung up the phone and smiled. “The cardinal will see you now.”

Hale gave the woman a smart smile and said, “Thank you.”

Miss Costello motioned with her hand to the office door that stood behind her. “He’s in there.”

Hale was already halfway around the desk. He knew where the cardinal’s office was. He’d walked past it a dozen times or more in the past.

Cardinal Wickham was sitting behind his desk, his feet resting on an open drawer. He had his hands folded neatly in front of him, and he seemed to be suppressing a smile. He never changed his position as he studied Hale.

“Hello, Agent Hale. I understand you needed to see me?”

“What happened to him?”

Wickham’s expression was thoughtful. “Well, he was sick. You knew that. Everyone knew that.”

Hale grabbed a chair and thunked it backward in front of the desk. Straddling it, he rested his arms over the back. “Let me tell you what I know.”

Wickham raised his brow and waved his hand in front of Hale, as if to say, “Go ahead.”

Hale fixed Wickham with a piercing glare. “I know what didn’t happen to him.”

Wickham looked genuinely surprised. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Hale said, “that he didn’t die from some flu.”

“I see.” The cardinal stood up and walked from behind his desk. “And what makes you think that?”

“I also know that since Paul’s untimely death, you’re in charge around here.”

Wickham had now moved to within inches of Hale. He leaned over and said, “That’s how our government is structured around here. What are you insinuating?”

“I also know that Paul thought he had an enemy around here.”

Wickham was now almost nose to nose with Hale. His beady little eyes were bloodshot. His lips moved into a thin line as he pointed a finger in Hale’s face. “I suggest you either quit talking in circles and tell me what you came here for, or get out.” He jabbed a finger back at the door.

Hale stood up. He was a good six inches taller than the cardinal. “I came here to tell you I’ve got nothing to say to you.” He turned around and headed for the door but called back over his shoulder, “Except that I’m going to find out what really happened. And when I do, you’d better hope you didn’t have anything to do with it.”

Hale touched the doorknob.

“Tell me about the girl,” Wickham said from behind him.

That was it. Now he was positive. Paul, unless he was drugged and couldn’t control his faculties, would never mention Anna or the scroll to anyone. He turned to face Wickham. “Excuse me?”

“The girl. Paul mentioned something about her just before he passed.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Wickham tried to look innocent. “Neither do I, Agent Hale. Paul was barely able to squeak it out. He said, ‘Ask Hale about the girl.’ I just assumed that was what you came here about.”

Hale returned that innocent look with one of his own. “Like I said, I don’t know what you’re talking about, Cardinal.”

“If someone’s in trouble and you’re keeping it a secret, I’ll have your badge! You will be looking for employment elsewhere, sir!” Hale walked out the door without another word.

I
t was getting late in the afternoon when Anna and Jason finished up their shopping trip. They had visited several boutiques before Anna found exactly what she wanted. She had initially chosen a beautiful deep red gown with a high collar and long sleeves, but Jason noticed that wearing something so bold would draw attention to them—and that wasn’t what they wanted. So she found another, equally beautiful black dress. It was simple, but when Anna stepped out of the dressing room to show him, he declared that, whether they wanted the attention or not, it was going to be hard to avoid when she looked so beautiful.

Anna couldn’t remember the last time she’d blushed that hard.

After asking the cab driver to drop them off a few blocks from the safe house, they watched over their shoulders as they walked the few blocks back to the old brownstone. It didn’t seem that anyone was taking special notice of them.

They hadn’t been inside more than a few minutes when they heard a knock on the door.

Carefully, Jason moved to the foyer and peeked out of the peephole. There was nobody there. He undid the locks and opened the door an inch. The chain was still engaged, and the door was reinforced steel. If anyone tried to force their way in, the chain would easily stop them.

He looked out and didn’t see anything. Anna was behind him whispering, “Who is it?” He didn’t bother to answer but just waved his hand at her as if to say, “Shh …”

He was about to close the door again when he noticed a note lying on the doorjamb. He picked it up and closed the door. He turned back to Anna and held it up. It was a note addressed to him.

“Well, what is it?” she asked.

He rolled his eyes at her. “What am I? A psychic?”

He opened it and read it aloud.

“Well,” Anna said, “looks like you’re just a regular James Bond!” Jason laughed. “Just trying to keep us alive.” “I know. You did good.”

She walked over, reached up, and moved the hair out of his eyes. Then she leaned up on her toes and kissed his cheek. “I mean it, you know. I never once felt unsafe today.”

“Thanks.” He smiled.

She pulled back, feeling suddenly shy. “I guess now we need to figure out how to get in to that embassy.”

They started in the office where Thomas kept his notes. Jason went through drawers as Anna sifted through notebooks and loose papers, looking for any information about an embassy ball. Nothing.

They moved from room to room, looking everywhere they could think of. Finally, after leaving Jason to rifle through her grandfather’s study, she went back to the kitchen where she noticed a small stack of unopened mail sitting on the far counter. She thumbed through the first few pieces and stopped. An envelope with the Israeli embassy letterhead stared back at her. She tore open the end and pulled out the contents. She breathed a sigh of relief and ran back to the study.

“Hey, I found it!” She waved it in the air like a baton.

“I see that. What does it say?”

She opened it up and read it. “It says here that the Prime Minister’s Ball,” she said it with a swanky slur, “starts precisely at eight and goes until midnight.” She turned it over and looked at both sides. “It doesn’t say how many guests the invitation is good for.”

“Well, let just hope it’s a ‘bring a date’ invite,” Jason said. Anna raised her eyebrows, pursed her lips, and said cheekily, “Oh, so now you’re my date?”

“No,” Jason said matter-of-factly, “you’re
my
date.” “Oh really?”

Jason grabbed the invitation out of her hand. He held it up and ran his finger under two words. “Yes, really. Unless you can convince them you’re Thomas Riley.” He chuckled and pointed to the box sitting on the table. “And in that dress, I don’t think that’s humanly possible.”

Anna threw her hands up in the air. “Well, sir,” she said,

“would you like to have a beautiful young lady accompany you to your function this evening?” She tilted her head and batted her eyes.

Jason smiled and bowed. “I would be delighted, miss.”

Rows of horse-drawn carriages and limousines lined Old Court Place. People wearing their finest attire stood along the street, waiting to get into the Israeli embassy. The annual Prime Minister’s Ball was in full swing.

Jason handed the woman at the reception area his invitation. Anna held her breath. The woman glanced at the invitation, looked back at Jason with a curious stare, and handed it back to him. She then picked up a piece of paper with a list of names on it. She ran her finger down the list until she found the name she was looking for. She took her pen and marked a check by the name Thomas Riley. She smiled and said, “Enjoy your evening, sir.”

Jason nodded and led Anna by the arm into the main reception room. “So far so good,” he whispered.

They were about to sit at the first empty table when they noticed names printed on little white cards that sat at the head of each place setting. Along the far wall, by a beautiful stone fireplace, they found two that said T
HOMAS
R
ILEY
and G
UEST.

It was Jason’s idea to sit and study the crowd for a while. If this Benjamin was also looking for Thomas, they might be able to spot him. Their table was mostly empty, and very few people were talking to one another. Aside from a few speeches, it was a remarkably dull affair. Anna felt disappointed—a ball at the embassy had sounded so glamorous.

As they were finishing their salads, a woman at their table knocked over a glass of wine. Jason offered to go get a waiter and ask for some napkins. He disappeared around the corner he’d seen the wait staff come from.

Anna decided it was a good time to visit the ladies’ room. She’d seen several women leaving through a side door and then returning some minutes later. She figured that’s where it would be. She got up from the table and headed that way.

As she reached the door, she felt someone take her elbow from behind. It was a tight grip and not very friendly. She was about to look behind her when she felt the cold steel of the barrel of a gun in her back. The man quickly pulled her from the doorway and shoved her down a secluded hall. He spoke only once. It was a command not to turn around or scream, or he would shoot her right where she stood.

She complied with the man’s order and walked down the hall, tears brimming in her eyes. She had only left Jason for a minute. Now she was being kidnapped. She wondered if her security would come to her rescue. Probably not. They’d be waiting outside the building to make sure she came out safely. That wouldn’t do her much good if her captors brought her out dead.