If Jenny had her way, the hottest place in hell would be reserved for whoever invented voice mail and those infuriating mechanical queries that only lead to another.
He smiled as he sectioned a piece of fish. 'No need. You've done your job and thanks. You'll find a little gift in your next paycheck.'
'Oh, Mr Reilly,' she protested, 'you don't have to…'
She stopped in midsentence. The man at the next table was clearly listening although he was using a copy of the day's Times as a prop to conceal his interest. What Jenny was saying sounded like… sounded like something quite different than an employer speaking to an employee. She felt herself flush at what the eavesdropper must be thinking.
Lang silenced her with a hand. 'Don't deprive an old man of his pleasures.'
Pleasures? Old man? She'd give anything to… The thought made her blush even more.
'Thank you,' she managed.
Fifteen minutes later in his room, Lang stared without comprehension at the copy Jenny had given him. Through long mastery of the corporate telephone maze, he had reached a living, breathing person at Aegean Air. The flight in question had been an A (Airbus) 320-200 from Rhodes to Athens. No, privacy policy forbade disclosing the name of the passenger occupying that specific seat.
A quick call to the States produced a sleepy, 'Yeah…?'
'Jimmy?' Lang asked.
'You're calling at fucking two o'clock in the mornin' and you're not sure you have the right person?'
If personality were his only asset, Jimmy Edge would be unemployable. Fortunately, Jimmy was a geek without peer. Unfortunately, his skills were far more useful on the wrong side of the law. Hacking into and altering bank records in his favor had proved far more lucrative than programming corporate computers. Lang had successfully negotiated a plea deal on Jimmy's behalf by which the hacker had provided a complete list of his victims in exchange for probation. The United States attorney had howled like a wounded animal at the court's leniency, but, as one of the larger financial institutions admitted, without Jimmy's help there was little chance their electronic records could be straightened out for years.
'Good morning to you, too,' Lang said cheerfully. 'I've got a job for you.'
'Swell,' Jimmy growled, recognizing Lang's voice. 'Most of my clients operate during the daylight hours.'
'Most of your clients don't operate well in any kind of light, day or otherwise. You got a pencil handy?'
It took less than ten minutes before Jimmy called Lang back.
'He connected from Athens to Rome. Dead end,' he announced without preamble. 'Passenger's name was Frangelli, address and phone number in Rome. Contact number belongs to a prepaid cell, address is on the Corso. Doesn't exist. No record of Frangelli ever having flown Aegean Air or any major carrier I could call up in a hurry and he's not on Google or any US or European credit records. I'd say you got yourself a real fictional character this time.'
'Contact number in Rhodes or Athens?'
'Same cell.'
Lang thought a moment. 'Thanks, Jimmy. I get any more info, I'll be in touch.'
'I can't wait.'
Lang terminated the call on his BlackBerry, thoughtful as he put the device back into his pocket. A passenger with no name, a flight between two points so far irrelevant to anything Lang knew. Information, though, could be like a good wine: it increased both in value and quality in time.
IV.
Piazza dei Cavalieri di Malta
Aventine Hill
Rome
Two Hours Later
Gravel crunched as the two men walked side by side along the path. Twin lines of cypress trees pointed like an arrow to the Vatican a mile or so away, creating one of Rome's most famous optical illusions: the trees excluded any lateral view, making the basilica appear to retreat as the observer moved forward.
The piazza had not been open to the public for years. Neither man was remotely interested in the view, mirage or not.
'Who is this man who cost us one of our brothers?' the elder of the two asked in Italian.
The other man replied in the same language. His accent made it clear it was not his first tongue. 'From the guest list, we found it to be an American lawyer named Reilly. He also heads a charitable foundation apparently named after his deceased sister and nephew. He joined the military right out of college and there is nothing but routine payroll records until he entered in law school six years later.'
The older man gave a derisive snort. 'I doubt he learned how to use a spear in such a lethal manner in the regular military. Or in law school'
The younger man nodded. 'Our council brothers who saw him say he moved like someone familiar with combat, a professional. Fortunately, our brother in charge assigned someone to follow this Reilly person. He went south from London to Rye, where we discovered his foundation has facilities. Apparently he has found some evidence of Brother Lucci's recent journey to Rhodes, the stub of a boarding pass. He was discussing it in a hotel dining room.'
The older man's head snapped up. 'What else could he deduce from a boarding pass?'
'The reservations were made under an alias, all contact points untraceable '
'But Reilly has the assets to ascertain such a trip was made. Such a man could be a danger. If he discovers our ancient relationship with the island, it could lead him to us.'
'We will watch him closely, Grand Master.'
The senior thought for a moment. 'And what did he have to do with Weatherston-Wilby?'
'As far as we can tell, they only knew each other through their charitable works. I regret I do not have more precise answers to your questions.'
The older man gave a chilly smile. 'Considering the little time you have had to gather information, you have done well.'
'Our brothers are worldwide and cooperative. What are your wishes?'
His companion thought for perhaps fifteen seconds. 'This man Reilly could be dangerous. See to it.'
Chapter Two
I.
Excerpt from the London Times:
Kidnapping Victim Stoned
LONDON-Scotland Yard announced today a grisly discovery next to St. Paul's Cathedral: the body of Sir Eon Weatherston-Wilby, who had been kidnapped the previous evening from the British Museum during a robbery at an affair sponsored by Weatherston-Wilby celebrating his donation of several ancient manuscripts from Egypt.
Police sources who declined to be identified stated the badly bruised body had apparently been thrown from an upper-story window and then subjected to trauma from blunt objects, quite possibly stones found nearby. Police are investigating the significance of a scallop shell placed on the victim's body, possibly by the killers.
An autopsy is under way. Whether the victim survived the fall and was alive at the time of the possible stoning
