Page 94 of The Order

“It is now.”

Weber sat down. Oded lowered himself into the chair opposite, the Jericho .45 on his knee.

Gabriel looked at Estermann. “What are you waiting for?”

Estermann opened the double doors and led them inside.

It was a cavernous space, about sixty feet by fifty. One wall was given over almost entirely to a panoramic window. The other three were hung with Gobelin tapestries and what appeared to be Old Master paintings. There was a monumental classicist china closet, an enormous clock crowned by an eagle, and a bust of Wagner that appeared to be the work of Arno Becker, the German architect and sculptor beloved by Hitler and the Nazi elite.

There were two seating areas, one near the window and another in front of the fireplace. Gabriel crossed the room and joined Jonas Wolf before the hearth. The heat of the fire was volcanic. Atop the embers lay a book. Only the leather cover remained.

“I suppose burning books comes naturally to someone like you.”

Wolf was silent.

“You’re not armed, are you, Wolf?”

“A pistol.”

“Would you get it for me, please?”

Wolf reached beneath his cashmere blazer.

“Slowly,” cautioned Gabriel.

Wolf produced the weapon. It was an old Luger.

“Do me a favor and toss it onto that chair over there.”

Wolf did as he was told.

Gabriel looked at the blackened remains of the book. “Is that the Gospel of Pilate?”

“No, Allon. Itwasthe gospel.”

Gabriel placed the barrel of the Beretta against the nape of Wolf’s neck. Somehow he managed not to pull the trigger. “Do you mind if I have a look at it?”

“Be my guest.”

“Would you get it for me, please?”

Wolf made no movement.

Gabriel twisted the barrel of the Beretta. “Don’t make me ask twice.”

Wolf reached for the fireplace tools.

“No,” said Gabriel.

Crouching, Wolf stretched a hand into the inferno. A foot to the backside was enough to send him headlong into the flames. By the time he managed to extricate himself, his mane of silver hair was a memory.

Gabriel feigned indifference to his cries of pain. “What did it say, Wolf?”

“I never read it,” he gasped.

“I find that difficult to believe.”

“It was heresy!”