had no way to find you.”
“I kind of disappeared. Kept to myself.”
“Which, I imagine, was not good. You have friends, Thomas. People who respected you. People who never believed what was said.”
He appreciated her loyalty. But few of those friends came to his defense when he needed them.
“Thomas Sagan was never dishonest around me.”
He smiled. He hadn’t heard a compliment in a long while.
“I push my people now,” she said. “Just like you pushed me on the stories we did together. I remember what you taught me.”
A decade ago she’d worked the foreign desk for
“Is your daughter in bad trouble?” she asked.
“I’m afraid so. She and I are not close, but I have to help her.”
“Of course you do, she is your daughter.”
“Are your children okay?” Two, if he recalled correctly.
“Both are growing up. One might even be a reporter one day herself.”
They were as comfortable together as they had been years ago. Maybe he’d been wrong to lump all of his former friends together in one stinking pile.
He’d made the right call contacting her.
She leaned over the table. “Tell me, Thomas, what can I do to help your daughter.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
ALLE LISTENED AS THE BELLS ABOVE ST. STEPHEN’S CATHEDRAL announced 5:00 P.M. She and Brian had approached the church from the west, positioned at the edge of the expansive plaza that stretched out from the main portal.
“Simon’s not our problem right now,” Brian said. “He needs you inside to show your father. It’s after he gets what he wants that the trouble starts.”
She was anxious about all of this, not pleased with being bait.
“I have to get you and your father out of here before Simon makes a move,” Brian said. “He will act. The question is where and when.”
People hustled in all directions. This was the heart of Vienna, the cathedral’s size accentuated by rows of low- slung, compact buildings. Two of the city’s most exclusive streets radiated from the plaza, home to countless stores and shops. Her gaze focused on one of the many open-air restaurants and a string quartet playing Brahms. She caught the waft of chicken frying somewhere nearby. Everything was alive with sound and movement. Impossible to know where a threat might lie.
“You have help here?” she asked.
“I work alone.”
“You had help in the cafe when we first met.”
He glanced at her. “I needed them then.”
“You realize that you could be wrong about Zachariah.”
“Then you won’t have a problem going in there alone.”
She was surprised.
“I can’t go with you,” he said. “It would only complicate things. This is among the three of you. You’re what your father’s come for. Simon knows we have you. He also knows you’re coming.”
“You told him?”
He shook his head. “Not me. But others did.”
She wanted to know about those
Who did this man work for?
She watched as Brian studied the busy plaza. Her gaze drifted up the cathedral’s south tower, which surged skyward like a jet of water in an unbroken ascent, tapering steadily from base to finial. The main roof, which the steeple seemed to pierce, glistened with its trademark glazed yellow and black tiles. A familiar sight, which she’d seen many times from her apartment, not far away. The church’s north tower had never been completed, which gave the building its distinctive unfinished look. Something Goethe had said came to mind.
Brian produced a cell phone and hit one of its buttons. He spoke Hebrew to the person on the other side, most of which she understood. She’d studied it in both college and graduate school. She decided not to let him know she knew that he apparently had a man atop the cathedral’s south tower, which could be climbed for a fee. She’d done it herself, the view affording a wide angle. Interesting how he wanted her to believe that Zachariah was a danger, yet he could not, or would not, be straight with her.
And Hebrew?
Who was this guy?
