Page 21 of The Order

Gabriel shrugged. “One of the household nuns probably took it.”

“Did they take the letter off Lucchesi’s desk, too?”

“The letter,” admitted Gabriel, “is harder to explain.”

“Almost as hard as the missing Swiss Guard.” A waiter arrived with two coffees and a creamy Roman fruit tart. Fork in hand, Chiara hesitated. “I’ve already gained at least five pounds on this trip.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

She shot him an envious glance. “You haven’t gained an ounce. You never do.”

“I have the Tintoretto to thank for that.”

Chiara nudged the tart closer to Gabriel. “You eat it.”

“You’re the one who ordered it.”

Chiara dislodged a slice of strawberry from the bed of cream. “How long do you think it will take Unit 8200 to find Janson’s phone number?”

“Given the insecurity of the Vatican network, I’d say about five minutes flat. Once they get it, it won’t take them long to pinpoint his location.” Gabriel inched the tart closer to Chiara. “And then we can go back to Venice and resume our holiday.”

“What if the phone is powered off or lying on the bottom of the Tiber?” Chiara lowered her voice. “Or what if they’ve already killed him?”

“Janson?”

“Yes, of course.”

“And who arethey?”

“The same men who murdered the pope.”

Gabriel frowned. “We’re not there yet, Chiara.”

“We passedtherea long time ago, darling.” Chiara sliced off a piece of the tart and pierced it through the cream and crust. “I have to admit I’m looking forward to dinner tonight.”

“I wish I could say the same.”

“What are you worried about?”

“An awkward pause in the conversation.”

“You know, Gabriel, you didn’t actuallykillCarlo Marchese.”

“I didn’t exactly prevent him from falling over that barrier, either.”

“Perhaps Veronica won’t bring it up.”

“I certainly don’t intend to.”

Chiara smiled and looked around the room. “What do you suppose normal people do on holiday?”

“Wearenormal people, Chiara. We just have interesting friends.”

“With interesting problems.”

Gabriel plunged his fork into the tart. “That, too.”

There was anold Office safe flat at the top of the Spanish Steps, not far from the church of the Trinità dei Monti. Housekeeping hadn’t had time to stock the pantry. It was no matter; Gabriel wasn’t anticipating a long stay.