The Second Messiah

Yasmin stirred sugar into her cup and looked as if she was trying not to break a smile. “I never thought I’d find myself being searched from head to toe in the Vatican, of all places. That woman probed me everywhere. And I do mean everywhere. What did you make of Kelly’s answers?”

Before Jack could reply, Yasmin stared out of the window and said, “I hope I’m not being paranoid.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Her gaze was fixed beyond the glass. “I think I saw a man following us just before we entered the café. I just saw him again.”

Jack frowned and stared past the glass at the crowds toward St. Peter’s Square. “Where is he?”

“He disappeared into the crowd.”

Jack smiled, trying to make light of it. “You’re sure he wasn’t just an admirer? I’ve known guys to traipse behind women for miles just to admire their legs. Remember, we’re in Rome, testosterone capital of the world.”

“Jack, I’m deadly serious. I had a problem with a stalker once. I know when I’m being followed. This guy wasn’t checking me out. He was too intent.”

“What did he look like?”

“Eastern European. He was about forty, wore jeans and a dark leather jacket and had a boxer’s flattened nose. He carried a travel bag over his shoulder. At one point he went to talk with a thin Arab-looking guy, seated in a silver Lancia.”

Jack picked up his coffee, scanned the crowds on the square, and felt a rising anxiety in the pit of his stomach. “Describe the Arab.”

“He had a trimmed beard and looked young, in his mid-twenties. What if they’re Pasha’s men?”

Jack’s cell phone suddenly rang. He checked the calling number. “It’s Buddy. He’s got lousy timing. I’ll have to call him back.” He silenced the cell, finished his coffee, and got to his feet. “Stay here.”

“Where are you going?”

Jack slipped on his sunglasses. “To see if I can spot anyone on the street who resembles either guy. Keep watch from the window but put on your sunglasses. I don’t want you making eye contact with them if they reappear. They may suspect we’re on to them.”

She touched his hand. “What if it’s dangerous?”

Jack winked down at her and slapped some euro banknotes on the table. “Relax. Have more coffee. I’ll be back.”

Yasmin looked up at his face. “You never told me what you thought of Kelly’s answers.”

“The questions I asked were deliberate. Especially about Father Novara and the Nero marbles. I needed to see Kelly’s reaction.”

“And?”

“He looked up and to the right when he gave his answer and focused on an imaginary point above eye level. Some behavioral psychologists might tell you that kind of look is a clear pointer.”

“Of what?”

“That someone’s lying through their teeth.”

75

When Jack stepped outside the café it took him only seconds to spot the man in the leather jacket. He was standing across the street and had high Slavic cheekbones and the broad, broken-nosed face of a boxer. He wore sunglasses and carried a canvas travel bag over his shoulder. The moment Jack locked eyes on him the man looked away.

Jack felt a hand lightly touch his arm and he tensed. Yasmin stood beside him, wearing her sunglasses.

“I said to wait inside, Yasmin.”

“I thought it might help if I tried to help you spot the men.”

Jack didn’t protest but took hold of her arm and linked it with his. “See the guy wearing the leather jacket? He’s across the street.”

“Yes, that’s him,” Yasmin whispered.

“Let’s take a walk. Try to make it appear as if we’re taking a casual stroll.”

Jack started to walk. “You see the other guy near the lamppost?”

He felt Yasmin’s grip tighten on his arm. “That’s the Arab I saw watching us. Do you think they’re Pasha’s accomplices?”

“It’s always a possibility. We’ll make a dash for the cab and try to lose them. Whatever happens, stick close to me.” Jack looked to the right and saw their cab still parked near the Vatican side entrance. “Ready?”

Before Yasmin could reply, a gray Fiat drove at high speed toward them, scattering tourists and pedestrians in its way. It screeched to a halt and Jack got the shock of his life as a man and woman jumped out. The woman was Lela Raul.

Yasmin said, stunned, “It—it’s the inspector.”

“What the. . .?” Jack felt riveted to the spot. While the Fiat’s driver remained in the car with the engine running, Lela and her companion approached Jack. He locked eyes with Lela but suddenly she raised her hand as if in warning and screamed, “Behind you, Jack, look out!”

Jack saw that the leather-jacketed man with the brutal face was pushing toward him, wrenching a compact machine pistol from his travel bag. The man spotted Lela and her companion drawing weapons.

He raised his machine pistol. The weapon stuttered, raking a burst of gunfire across the ground in front of Lela and her companion, sending chunks of asphalt flying as screams erupted from the scattering crowds.

Lela’s partner managed to draw his gun but the Serb fired another burst. As the crowd went wild to escape, Jack lost sight of Lela and her partner, who were masked by fleeing tourists.