Page 10 of The Order

“He might have mentioned that it had something to do with the selection of the next supreme pontiff of the Roman Catholic Church.”

The wineglass went still. “The conclave?”

“He didn’t go into specifics.”

Gabriel nudged his phone to life and checked the time. He had been forced at long last to part company with his beloved BlackBerry Key2. His new device was an Israeli-made Solaris,customized to his unique specifications. Larger and heavier than a typical smartphone, it had been built to withstand remote attack from the world’s most sophisticated hackers, including the American NSA and Israel’s Unit 8200. All of Gabriel’s senior officers carried one, as did Chiara. It was her second. Raphael had tossed her first Solaris from the terrace of their apartment in Jerusalem. For all its inviolability, the device had not been designed to survive a fall of three floors and a collision with a limestone walkway.

“It’s late,” he said. “We should rescue your parents.”

“We don’t have to rush. They love having the children around. If it were up to them, we would never leave Venice.”

“King Saul Boulevard might notice my absence.”

“The prime minister, too.” She was silent for a moment. “I must admit, I’m not looking forward to going home. I’ve enjoyed having you to myself.”

“I only have two years left on my term.”

“Two years and one month. But who’s counting?”

“Has it been terrible?”

She made a face. “I never wanted to play the role of the complaining wife. You know the type, don’t you, Gabriel? They’re so annoying, those women.”

“We always knew it would be difficult.”

“Yes,” she said vaguely.

“If you need help...”

“Help?”

“An extra pair of hands around the house.”

She frowned. “I can manage quite well on my own, thank you. I just miss you, that’s all.”

“Two years will go by in the blink of an eye.”

“And you promise you won’t let them talk you into a second term?”

“Not a chance.”

Her face brightened. “So how do you plan to spend your retirement?”

“You make it sound as though I should start looking for an assisted-living facility.”

“You are getting on in years, darling.” She patted the back of his hand. It didn’t make him feel any younger. “Well?” she asked.

“I plan to devote my final years on this earth to making you happy.”

“So you’ll do anything I want?”

He regarded her carefully. “Within reason, of course.”

She cast her eyes downward and picked at a loose thread in the tablecloth. “I had coffee with Francesco yesterday.”

“He didn’t mention it.”

“I asked him not to.”