Page 111 of An Inside Job

“Forgive me, Gabriel. But it was the only place I could get a reservation on short notice.”

They were back at Lucrezia, the little osteria near the train station. Polizia di Stato officers outside, a Swiss Guard inside, the Vicar of Christ in a plaid sport jacket and an open-necked dress shirt.

“You’re not safe here,” said Gabriel.

Donati nudged a plate of arancini across the tabletop. “Have one of these. You’ll feel better.”

“I’ll feel better when you’re back in your bed at the Casa Santa Marta.”

“I’m safer in this restaurant than I am at the Casa.”

“All the more reason you should move across town to the Apostolic Palace. I hear there’s a lovely apartment available on the third floor.”

“I visit it each Sunday when I pray the Angelus.”

“Have you ever noticed her down there in the square?”

“Who?”

Gabriel made no reply.

“If you are referring to Veronica, I haven’t seen her. But then my crowds have been rather large of late.”

“The travails of the rock star pope.”

“If you must know, I hate it when they call me that. It demeans the papacy.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts.”

Gabriel served himself one of the crispy arancini balls and ate it with a knife and fork. Donati, frowning, plucked one from the plate and popped it into his mouth.

“Venetians,” he muttered with dismay.

“Veronica made the same remark not long ago when I complained about her driving.”

“You should have seen the way she drove when she was young. She was an absolute madwoman behind the wheel of a car.”

“Nothing has changed.”

“But that’s not true,mio amico. A great deal has changed. A papal private secretary is allowed to maintain a friendship with a woman, but a supreme pontiff is not.”

“She knows that, Luigi.”

“Does she?”

“Yes, of course.”

“All I want is for her to be happy.”

“She is,” replied Gabriel. “Deliriously so.”

“Is she seeing someone?”

“A devastatingly handsome younger man. All of Rome is talking about nothing else.”

“It’s a sin, you know.”

“An affair with a younger man?”