this right?' He'd noticed in the restaurant that a few of the other books contained translations, each one slightly different.
She studied the text, then scanned the mosaic, comparing back and forth. The body lay a few feet away, limbs contorted at odd angles, blood on the floor, and they both seemed to pretend that it wasn't there. He wondered about the gunshots, but doubted with the thickness of the walls and the wind outside that anyone had heard. At least no one had come to investigate so far.
'It's correct,' she said. 'A few minor variations, but nothing that changes the meaning.'
'You told me earlier that the inscription is original, only it's a mosaic instead of paint. The chapel's consecration-which is another word for 'sanctification.' Clarify this pursuit by applying the angel's perfection to the lord's sanctification. The number twelve is the angel's perfection, from Revelation. This octagon was a symbol of that perfection.' He pointed at the mosaic. 'Could be every twelfth letter, but my guess is count every twelfth word.'
A cross signified where the inscription began and ended. He watched as she counted.
'Claret,' she said, coming to twelve. Then she found two more words in the twenty-fourth and thirty-sixth positions. Quorum. Deus. 'That's all. The last word, velit, is number eleven.'
'Interesting, wouldn't you say? Three words, the last stopping at eleven so there'd be no more.'
'Claret quorum deus. Brightness of God.'
'Congratulations,' he said. 'You just clarified the pursuit.'
'You already knew, didn't you?'
He shrugged. 'I tried it at the restaurant with one of the translations and found the same three words.'
'You could have mentioned that, along with the fact we were being followed.'
'I could have, but you could have mentioned something, too.'
She tossed him a perplexed look, but he wasn't buying, so he asked, 'Why are you playing me?'
DOROTHEA STARED AT HER MOTHER. 'YOU KNOW WHERE CHRISTL is?'
Isabel nodded. 'I watch over both of my daughters.'
She tried to keep her features placid, but a growing anger complicated the task.
'Your sister teamed up with Herr Malone.'
The words stung her. 'You had me send him away. You said he was a problem.'
'He was and still is, but your sister spoke with him after he met with you.'
A feeling of worry passed into foolishness. 'You arranged that?'
Her mother nodded. 'You had Herr Wilkerson. I gave her Malone.' Her body seemed numb, her mind paralyzed.
'Your sister is in Aachen, at Charlemagne's chapel, doing what needs to be done. Now you must do the same.'
Her mother's face remained impassive. Where her father had been carefree, loving, warm, her mother stayed disciplined, distant, aloof. Nannies had raised both Christl and her, and they'd always craved their mother's attention, competing for what little affection there was to enjoy. Which she'd always thought accounted for much of their animosity-each daughter's desire to be special, complicated by the fact that they were identical.
'Is this just a game for you?' she asked.
'It is far more than that. It is time my daughters grow up.'
'I despise you.'
'Finally-anger. If that will keep you from doing stupid things then by God hate me.'
Dorothea had reached her limit and advanced toward her mother. But Ulrich stepped between them. Her mother held up a hand and stopped him, as she would a trained animal, and Henn stepped back.
'What would you do?' her mother asked. 'Attack me?'
'If I could.'
'And would that obtain what you want?'
The question halted her. Negative emotions ebbed away, leaving only guilt. As always.
A smile crept onto her mother's lips. 'You must listen to me, Dorothea. I have truly come to help.'
Werner watched with a tempered reserve. Dorothea pointed his way. 'You killed Wilkerson and now have given me him. Does Christl get to keep her American?'
'That would not be fair. Though Werner is your husband, he's not a former American agent. I'll deal with it tomorrow.'
'And how do you know where he'll be tomorrow?'
'That's just it, child. I know precisely where he'll be and I'm about to tell you.'
'YOU HAVE TWO MASTER'S DEGREES, YET EINHARD'S WILL WAS A problem for you?' Malone asked Christl. 'Get real. You already knew all of this.'
'I won't deny that.'
'I'm an idiot for getting myself in the middle of this disaster. I've killed three people in the past twenty-four hours because of your family.'
She sat in one of the chairs. 'I was able to solve the pursuit to this point. You're right. It was relatively easy. But to someone living in the Dark Ages it was probably insurmountable. So few people then were literate. I have to say, I was curious to see how good you were.'
'Did I pass?'
'Quite well.'
'But only those who appreciate the throne of Solomon and Roman frivolity shall find their way to heaven. That's next, so where to?'
'Whether you believe me or not, I don't know the answer. I stopped at this point three days ago and returned to Bavaria-'
'To await me?'
'Mother called me home and told me what Dorothea was planning.'
He needed to make something clear. 'I'm here only because of my father. I stayed because somebody is upset that I got a peek at that file, and that reaches straight to Washington.'
'I didn't factor into your decision in any way?'
'One kiss does not make a relationship.'
'And I thought you enjoyed it.'
Time for a reality check. 'Since we both know this much of the pursuit, we can now solve the rest separately.'
He headed toward the exit doors, but stopped at the body. How many people had he killed through the years? Too many. But always for a reason. God and country. Duty and honor.
What about this time?
No answer.
He stared back at Christl Falk, who sat unconcerned.
And he left.
FORTY-SEVEN
STEPHANIE AND EDWIN DAVIS HUDDLED IN THE WOODS FIFTY yards from Herbert Rowland's lakeside house. Rowland had arrived home fifteen minutes ago and hurried inside carrying a pizza box. He'd immediately come back out and retrieved three logs from the woodpile. Smoke now puffed from a rough-hacked stone chimney. She wished they had a fire.
They'd spent a couple of hours during the afternoon buying additional winter clothes, thick gloves, and wool caps. They'd also stocked up on snacks and drink, then returned and assumed a position where they could safely watch the house. Davis doubted the killer would return before nightfall, but wanted to be in position just in case.
