himself a few seconds of suspense and turned toward the back. He massaged his neck to ease the pain. He wanted to see their faces when they replied. ‘Did Ernesto Aragones, Yaman Zafer, and Sigfried Hammal know each other?’
The two passengers in the back looked at each other.
‘I have no idea,’ Rafael answered.
‘I don’t know what to tell you,’ was Jacopo’s response.
‘Hmm … do you think they’d give the same answers if they were in separate rooms, Jean-Paul?’
‘I have no idea, Inspector. I don’t know what to tell you,’ the subordinate replied.
Gavache was a falcon. He hovered over his prey several times before sinking in his talons.
‘Are the crimes related? How did the other one die?’
‘A bullet in the back of the neck.’
Gavache sighed. ‘Is this a Jesuit practice?’ Sarcasm at a new level. ‘A priest, an archaeologist, a theologian,’ he said, speaking more to himself than to the others. ‘We know the archaeologist and theologian are related. The priest’s death differs in the modus operandi. Here I am with a priest and historian who keep the best information to themselves and sweet-talk me. Do you think we can trust them, Jean-Paul?’
‘I don’t know what to say, Inspector. Are you greedy?’
‘I’m greedy, Jean-Paul. Of course I’m greedy. I’d rather have a bag of candy in my hand than have them handed to me one at a time, or have to beg them to give me more.’
‘There’s your answer, Inspector.’
Their dialogue irritated Rafael and made Jacopo apprehensive.
‘Inspector Gavache, I’ve given you everything I have,’ Rafael offered, attempting an excuse. ‘I didn’t mention the crime in Jerusalem because I didn’t think it was related. As you yourself said, the modus operandi is different. It could have been the same murderer or not. I didn’t try to trick you. I hope you understand that. It’s been a terrible week for us.’
‘And I have two related deaths on French territory, in less than twenty-four hours, in the capital and the south. Do you think that’s easy?’ Gavache countered.
‘That’s not what I was trying to say,’ Rafael said, in his own defense. It wasn’t easy to argue with Gavache. Actually it was impossible. He’d never win this kind of argument. He decided to leave things the way they were.
Silence settled in again. Jean-Paul drove through the heart of downtown Paris. Perhaps because it was still before the morning rush hour, there was not much traffic, and it was easy to drive. Several minutes passed in a deafening silence that could have been counted out by a heavy ticktock. Ticktock . Ticktock . Ticktock .
Rafael recognized the street, Boulevard du Temple. Boulevard des Filles du Calvaire followed, farther along rue de Saint-Antoine.
‘Why did you ask help from the Vatican?’ Rafael asked.
Gavache didn’t answer at once. He looked ahead like Jean-Paul, turning over in his mind everything that had been said, the good and bad.
‘The Vatican was mentioned on your friend’s recording,’ he finally said. ‘But something else intrigued me even more.’
Rafael leaned against the seat in front. He was very attentive. ‘What?’
‘The murderer said the pope would pray for him. It could have been an innocent remark, but to me it means that your Jesuit did what he did on his orders.’
‘Are you crazy?’ Rafael exclaimed. ‘That doesn’t make sense.’
‘I’m only a layman. If you have a better explanation, I’m all ears,’ Gavache said ironically.
‘Does it make sense that the Holy Father would hire a murderer and later agree to help in the investigation of a crime he himself ordered?’
‘You know as well as I do that criminals sometimes testify in crimes they themselves perpetrated. It wouldn’t be the first time.’
‘What we have here is a Jesuit out of control … with his own personal agenda,’ Rafael compromised.
‘To whom do the Jesuits answer?’ Gavache asked.
‘To the superior
The two passengers in the back looked at each other.
‘I have no idea,’ Rafael answered.
‘I don’t know what to tell you,’ was Jacopo’s response.
‘Hmm … do you think they’d give the same answers if they were in separate rooms, Jean-Paul?’
‘I have no idea, Inspector. I don’t know what to tell you,’ the subordinate replied.
Gavache was a falcon. He hovered over his prey several times before sinking in his talons.
‘Are the crimes related? How did the other one die?’
‘A bullet in the back of the neck.’
Gavache sighed. ‘Is this a Jesuit practice?’ Sarcasm at a new level. ‘A priest, an archaeologist, a theologian,’ he said, speaking more to himself than to the others. ‘We know the archaeologist and theologian are related. The priest’s death differs in the modus operandi. Here I am with a priest and historian who keep the best information to themselves and sweet-talk me. Do you think we can trust them, Jean-Paul?’
‘I don’t know what to say, Inspector. Are you greedy?’
‘I’m greedy, Jean-Paul. Of course I’m greedy. I’d rather have a bag of candy in my hand than have them handed to me one at a time, or have to beg them to give me more.’
‘There’s your answer, Inspector.’
Their dialogue irritated Rafael and made Jacopo apprehensive.
‘Inspector Gavache, I’ve given you everything I have,’ Rafael offered, attempting an excuse. ‘I didn’t mention the crime in Jerusalem because I didn’t think it was related. As you yourself said, the modus operandi is different. It could have been the same murderer or not. I didn’t try to trick you. I hope you understand that. It’s been a terrible week for us.’
‘And I have two related deaths on French territory, in less than twenty-four hours, in the capital and the south. Do you think that’s easy?’ Gavache countered.
‘That’s not what I was trying to say,’ Rafael said, in his own defense. It wasn’t easy to argue with Gavache. Actually it was impossible. He’d never win this kind of argument. He decided to leave things the way they were.
Silence settled in again. Jean-Paul drove through the heart of downtown Paris. Perhaps because it was still before the morning rush hour, there was not much traffic, and it was easy to drive. Several minutes passed in a deafening silence that could have been counted out by a heavy ticktock. Ticktock . Ticktock . Ticktock .
Rafael recognized the street, Boulevard du Temple. Boulevard des Filles du Calvaire followed, farther along rue de Saint-Antoine.
‘Why did you ask help from the Vatican?’ Rafael asked.
Gavache didn’t answer at once. He looked ahead like Jean-Paul, turning over in his mind everything that had been said, the good and bad.
‘The Vatican was mentioned on your friend’s recording,’ he finally said. ‘But something else intrigued me even more.’
Rafael leaned against the seat in front. He was very attentive. ‘What?’
‘The murderer said the pope would pray for him. It could have been an innocent remark, but to me it means that your Jesuit did what he did on his orders.’
‘Are you crazy?’ Rafael exclaimed. ‘That doesn’t make sense.’
‘I’m only a layman. If you have a better explanation, I’m all ears,’ Gavache said ironically.
‘Does it make sense that the Holy Father would hire a murderer and later agree to help in the investigation of a crime he himself ordered?’
‘You know as well as I do that criminals sometimes testify in crimes they themselves perpetrated. It wouldn’t be the first time.’
‘What we have here is a Jesuit out of control … with his own personal agenda,’ Rafael compromised.
‘To whom do the Jesuits answer?’ Gavache asked.
‘To the superior
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