Sign of the Cross

figuring Danes and Norwegians would be most willing to help because of their connection to the crime.

After giving it some thought, though, he decided to scrap that idea and go in the opposite direction. Instead of looking at it from the victim’s point of view, he decided to look at it from his own. Who’d be willing to help him? He needed to find someone he could talk to, someone he could bond with. That was the angle he needed to play, the way to get his foot in the door.

It was far too late to help Erik Jansen. But it wasn’t too late to help Nick Dial.

*

Cardinal Joseph Rose grew up in Texas. He loved guns, red meat, and ice-cold beer. But more than anything else, he loved God, and that was the reason he was willing to move halfway around the world to work for the Vatican. This was his calling, and he was very content.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t homesick.

When the call came to his office, his assistant told him that Nick Dial was on the phone. The name didn’t ring a bell, so Cardinal Rose asked his assistant what it was about. His assistant shrugged and said Dial wouldn’t tell him. Then he added that Dial had an American accent. Two seconds later, Rose was on the phone. ‘How can I help you, Mr Dial?’

Dial smiled at the Texas twang in the cardinal’s voice. It was music to his ears. ‘Thanks for taking my call, Your Eminence. Please call me Nick.’

‘Thanks, Nick. But only if you call me Joe.’

‘You got it.’

‘So, what part of America are you from?’

‘All over, really. My dad coached college football, so I grew up on campuses from Oregon to Pennsylvania to Florida. Plus I spent a whole lot of time in Texas.’

They spent the next few minutes talking about the Lone Star State before Rose asked, ‘So, what can I do for you? I have to admit I’m curious, since you wouldn’t tell my assistant.’

‘Sorry about that. I thought it would be best if I told you myself.’

‘Told me yourself? That doesn’t sound good.’

‘I’m afraid it’s not. I run the Homicide Division at Interpol, and last night one of your priests was found murdered.’

Rose tried to remain calm. ‘One of my priests? You mean one of my assistants?’

‘Maybe,’ Dial admitted. ‘That’s the reason for my call. We know the victim’s name and that he worked for the Vatican, but I’m having trouble finding out additional — ’

‘His name?’ Rose demanded. ‘Please tell me his name.’

‘Jansen. Father Erik Jansen.’

The sound of relief escaped Rose’s lips, a whisper that told Dial that the Cardinal didn’t know the victim. ‘How did it happen?’

‘He was crucified.’

‘Dear God!’ Rose made the sign of the cross. ‘Did you say crucified?’

‘Yes, sir. Someone kidnapped him, knocked him out, then nailed him to a cross.’

‘When? Where? Why didn’t I hear about this?’

Dial grimaced, not sure what to answer first. ‘As far as we can tell, he was kidnapped in Rome last night. From there he was taken to Denmark, where he was killed.’

‘Denmark? Why Denmark?’

‘We don’t know, sir. That’s what I was hoping to find out. You see, I’m in charge of gathering as much evidence as possible, but I’ve run into some resistance. I’ve tried calling several people at the Vatican, but — ’

‘Say no more.’ Rose paused, trying to think of the best way to explain things. ‘I know how we can be about information. That’s probably why I haven’t heard anything about this tragedy. People are reluctant to open up in our community.’

‘Which is understandable, but — ’

‘Not acceptable. I couldn’t agree with you more.’ Rose shook his head, half embarrassed by the situation. ‘Nick, I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. I’m going to look into things myself, even if it means ruffling a few feathers. And the moment I have anything, and I do mean anything, I will give you a call, day or night.’

‘Do you promise? Because several people have — ’

‘Yes, Nick, I promise. I will get to the bottom of this. You have my word as a Texan.’

And to Dial, that meant more than Rose’s word as a church official.

15

Jones was obsessed with mysteries, which was the reason he wanted to become a detective. Some people see the glass as half-empty, while others see it as half-full. But Jones stares at it and tries to figure out who drank the damn water.

Anyway, Payne wasn’t surprised when Jones snatched the CIA folder before he had a chance to grab it. Jones said, ‘Dr Charles Boyd majored in archaeology and linguistics at Oxford and was eventually given a teaching position at Dover University in 1968. According to this, they even made him head of his department in 1991… Wow! How shocking!’

Manzak wasn’t amused. ‘Keep reading, Mr Jones. I assure you it gets worse.’

‘Damn, Jon! He wasn’t kidding. Take a look at this.’

Payne fought the urge to smile when Jones handed him a head shot of Dr Boyd that was taken during the Nixon administration. The type of photo that gets attached to someone’s personnel file and stays there no matter what anyone does to get rid of it. Boyd wore a tweed jacket and a silk bow tie, plus the worst comb-over hairstyle Payne had ever seen. It looked like one of the before photos in that infomercial for spray-on hair.

‘Let me guess,’ Jones cracked. ‘He’s wanted by the fashion police.’

‘No,’ Manzak said in a harsh tone. ‘He’s the key suspect in an Interpol investigation that’s been going on for two decades. Everything from forgeries to smuggling to the theft of antiquities. This guy does it all and does it at a very high level. Right now he’s wanted in several countries, most notably France, Italy, Germany, Austria, and Spain.’

‘Then why don’t they pick him up?’ Payne wondered.

‘Because Boyd’s a genius. Every time they get close to him, he finds a way to cover his tracks. Every single time. I’m telling you, it’s like the guy has ESP.’

‘Or inside information,’ Jones suggested.

Payne was thinking the same thing. ‘OK, let’s pretend everything you’ve told us about Boyd is accurate. What does this have to do with the CIA?’

Manzak pointed to the file. ‘Let me start with Spain. Dr Boyd stole a number of heirlooms from the Spanish government, one-of-a-kind items that have no price tag. Needless to say, they’re willing to do anything within reason to have them returned. Unfortunately, the only way to retrieve their items is to find Dr Boyd and get him to talk. Sounds easy, right? Well, up until now he’s managed to hide hundreds of objects under Interpol’s nose, and no one has any idea where. Spain is worried if Boyd gets killed in a manhunt, then their artifacts will never resurface. And the same can be said for the rest of Europe. Everyone is panicked about this. Everyone. And panic is a wonderful thing, especially if you’re able to take advantage of it.’

‘See, that’s where you’re losing me. How can the CIA benefit from this?’

Manzak leaned forward and smiled, the type of smile that was usually seen next to a bubbling cauldron. ‘Tell me, Mr Payne, what do you know about the CIA?’

‘I know how to spell it. Other than that, I’m clueless.’ Payne pointed toward Jones. ‘There’s the guy you want to talk to. He was tempted to join your organization at one point in time.’

Manzak looked surprised. ‘Is that so?’

Jones nodded. ‘Simply put, you guys collect foreign intelligence, evaluate it, then send your theories to D.C. in one of these snazzy manila folders.’