“Bob did say that you weren’t the kind of woman I was used to.”
“Did he?”
“He also said that, given your age, I should give you a wider berth than I usually give my girlfriends. That you saw the world differently from everyone else. I’m the one who has to adapt if we stay together.”
“I am not sure that is exactly correct.”
“Why not?”
“To ask you to change just because we are together seems an awful thing to do. You are who you are. I am who I am. We choose to spend our time together. No expectations.”
“None?”
“We already know the outcome of this relationship, Michael.
“We do?”
“Certainly. We are not getting married.”
“No?”
“I am a nun, Michael. Technically, I am married to God.”
“Right.”
“Best case scenario, I shall be at your funeral.”
“That’s pretty grim, Jacs.”
“It is neither grim nor cheerful. It is simply practical.”
“Huh.”
“All relationships end, Michael.” She cupped her hand to his cheek. “Either through separation or death.”
“Glad you’ve got it all worked out.”
“Take heart. Your funeral is years away. We could still spend the rest of your life enjoying each other’s company.”
Mike glared at her. “Or we could separate tomorrow, according to you.”
“Not according to me. That is how the world is. How it has always been and how it will continue to be. All we have is now.”
Mike crossed his arms.
“So, we need to discuss tonight’s reception,” Alice said.
* * * * *
Alice and Mike walked up the front steps of the Ritz-Carlton. They skirted the edges of the well-dressed crowd and scanned the area, watching for Buscaglia’s men. Alice’s veil and the charcoal Armani suit made her look as though she belonged with the crowd attending the Pope’s reception.
Mike’s suit and tie, although dressy for him, looked less than formal compared to everyone else.
At the entrance to the hotel, Mike badged his way past security. Alice flashed her Vatican passport. Once they were inside, they maintained their vigilance, especially in the area where the reception was being held.
Inside the opulent banquet room, they moved to where the Pope received visitors. Bob greeted them with a warm hug.
“Buscaglia and his men are on the twenty-ninth floor,” Bob whispered into Alice’s ear as he pressed a keycard into her hand. “All the arrangements have been made. Vincenzo will wait for you on twenty-eight.”
“Thank you, Your Holiness. I shall not let you down. Hopefully, I can take care of them all tonight.”
“We shall be here for three days.”
Alice turned away from the Pope. Mike waited behind her. Together, they scanned the room and the crowd. Two waiters, each carrying a tray of filled champagne flutes, walked toward them. Alice snatched two glasses off one of the trays and handed one to Mike.
“Are you sure we should have these? We’ll need to stay sharp for later.”
“We will blend in better if we hold these. We do not have to drink them.”
“Gotcha.”
Again, they scanned the crowd. Alice stiffened as a man in robes walked toward her out of the throng of people surrounding the Pope.
“Cardinal,” she said as he came close.
He was a small man, barely taller than Alice. His intense, beady eyed gaze bored into her. “Sister,” he said with a heavy Italian accent. He broke into a smile. “How good to see you.”
“And you, Cardinal.” Alice indicated Mike. “May I present Detective Michael Fredericks of the Philadelphia Police Department.”
The Cardinal stuck out his hand. Mike clasped it.
“Michael—Cardinal Giovanni Buscaglia.”
Mike’s eyes narrowed. “Cardinal.”
It seemed to Alice as though Mike barely stopped himself from yanking his hand out of Buscaglia’s grip.
“Very nice to meet you, Detective. I hope you enjoy the reception.” Buscaglia smiled at him and then turned to Alice. “Sister, we shall have to talk later, you and I.”
“I have no doubt we will be seeing each other, Cardinal.” Alice continued to scan the room. “We have important business to discuss.”
“Indeed, we do.” Buscaglia’s smile faded.
“In fact, I’ll be speaking with all of your men,” Alice added. “I trust they will be waiting.”
Buscaglia nodded slowly. “Forgive me, Sister. There is someone I must speak with. Excuse me.” He moved into the crowd and toward the door of the banquet room.
They watched him go. Even out of sight, they could tell where he was. The well-dressed crowd parted before him and he moved faster as he neared the doorway.
“What did you warn him for?” Mike asked.
“Warned or not, he knows exactly why I am here. His anxiety will be his undoing.” She sipped her champagne and turned away from the doors. “Let us enjoy this part of the evening, Michael. I shall go to work afterwards.”
* * * * *
The Ritz-Carlton was quiet and empty once the reception wound down. Its opulence was muted by the softer lighting used in the late hours of the evening.
Alice and Mike had waited at a table in the lounge just off the lobby for this low-traffic time. The fewer people around the better. Witnesses could not be tolerated and would only add to the body count.
Over the course of the evening, Alice had narrowed down which rooms on the twenty-ninth floor Buscaglia’s men were using. She didn’t think they would be just waiting for her, though. They’d be ready.
She checked the time. It was just before midnight. Alice put her handbag in her lap and pulled out the Tanfoglio.
Mike’s eyes went wide. “Are you crazy? Pulling that out in here? Someone will see.”
Alice scanned the lounge. They were the only table still occupied. The waitress and the bartender were down at the far end of the bar and the back of her chair blocked their view. “Who will see, Michael?”
She screwed the suppressor in place on the end of the Tanfoglio’s barrel and slipped it into her handbag. She looked up at Mike. “Remember, you are not to enter the room with me. Remain in the hallway and keep watch.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. Can’t have me compromised.”
“Quite correct, Michael.
