The Columbus Affair: A Novel

“You know that he wants to kill both her and her father, and probably me, too.”

He laughed again. “Your problem.”

“I don’t buy all this, Bene. Simon could have told you to go to hell. He doesn’t need the woman that bad. There has to be more you offered than just her.”

“Oh, yes. You’re so right. I definitely have something else he wants. So be a good agent and do your job. Have her there. See what happens. Then know that the Simon will be coming back my way.”

He paused.

“And that will allow us both to find what we are after.”

———

TOM DOZED IN AND OUT. HE’D ALWAYS BEEN ABLE TO SLEEP ON planes. That had been his time to rest, moving from one place to the next, readying himself for what lay ahead. But he was eight years out of practice. He’d been thinking about Michele and what a mess he made of both their lives.

“You’re a cheater, Tom. Women are your weakness.”

“Am I also a fraud?”

She’d never told him her thoughts about what happened to him.

“That one I don’t know. It’s certainly in you, since cheaters always cheat. But I have to say, I was shocked by all that.”

Her voice was calm, her words clear. The anger that had stayed between them had faded in the year since the divorce.

“I’ve met somebody,” she told him. “I’m going to get married.”

He was not surprised. Other men would quickly discover her.

“I’m happy for you.”

“It’s Alle you have to deal with. I’ve told you before, don’t wait until it’s too late.”

“I know. I know.”

“I have to go now, Tom. And I was wrong a moment ago. You’re a lousy husband and an even worse father, but you were a good reporter.”

He recalled how her affirmation of his innocence had hurt him even more.

All that he’d done to her.

Yet she still believed in him.

That was the last time they ever spoke.

He spent the next seven years wallowing in self-pity, living alone. She remarried but lost her life far too early.

And his daughter had not even allowed him to attend the funeral.

He grabbed hold of himself.

And wondered.

What would he say to Alle once she was free?

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

ZACHARIAH SETTLED DOWN BEFORE THE COMPUTER. HE’D ARRIVED back in Vienna four hours ago and Rocha had driven him straight to the estate. He’d dozed in and out for a couple of hours during the transatlantic flight, anxious.

Today was the day.

The Levite had left something in his grave, just as Zachariah’s grandfather and father had predicted might happen, and he’d found it. Tom Sagan’s stunt in Florida had actually worked to his advantage since disposing of two bodies, once this day was over, would prove far easier here than in America. He’d even made a deal with Bene Rowe. No choice, really. Having Alle Becket to show Sagan would make things much easier. But there was still the matter of the spy within his household. He employed thirty-two people at the estate, including Rocha. The traitor’s identity was obvious, and he’d learned on returning that the man called Midnight was gone.

As he should be.

Part of Rowe’s bargain was that his asset not be harmed.

Ordinarily, he might not have honored such a request, but Rowe had tantalized him with what had been found at another Levite’s grave in Jamaica. A hooked X. And documents that might point the way to the lost mine. Keeping every avenue open seemed important.

At least for now.

The computer came to life and a man’s face appeared.

He was middle-aged and bearded, with long sideburns.

“How are things today in Israel, my friend,” he said to the screen.

“Another day of negotiations. We are making progress, finally, toward a true peace.”