The driver who collected Bishop Myositis from Leonardo da Vinci International Airport pulled up in a small, unimpressive navy blue Honda Accord. Building his black cassock around himself, Myositis claimed into the back seat and settled in for the long drive to Castel Gandolfo. It would be the same ride he had taken five months ago. Now, seated in the Honda, Bishop Myositis realized his fist was clenched just thinking about his first meeting. He released his grip and focused on a slow inhalation, relaxing his muscles.Telling himself that everything will turn out great as the Honda wound higher into the mountains. Still, he wished his cell phone would ring. Wondering why the Teacher hasn't called him. Amorth should have the Cruciform key by now.Trying to ease his nerves, the bishop meditated on the purple amethyst in his ring. Feeling the texture of the mitre-crozier appliqué and the facets of the diamonds. He reminded himself that this ring was a symbol of power far less than that w
Outside the Salle des Etats, Andrie Romano was fuming as Louvre warden Pablo Diez explained how Sophie and Jim had disarmed him. "Captain?" Lieutenant Suslowicz loped toward them from the direction of the command post. "Captain, I just heard. They located Agent McEwan's car.""Did she make the embassy?""No. Train station. Bought two tickets. Train just left."Romano waved off warden Pablo Diez and led Suslowicz to a nearby alcove, addressing him in hushed tones. "What was the destination?""Lyon.""Probably a decoy." Romano exhaled, formulating a plan. "Okay, alert the next station, have the train stopped and searched, just in case. Leave her car where it is and put a plainclothes watch in case they try to come back to it. Send men to search the streets around the station in case they fled on foot. Are buses running from the station?""Not at this hour, Sir. Only the taxi queue.""Good. Question the drivers. See if they saw anything. Then contact the taxi company dispatcher with a d
Although the Spartan room in the brownstone on Rue La Bruyère had witnessed a lot of suffering, Amorth doubted anything could match the anguish now gripping his pale body. Amorth had been tricked. The brothers had lied, choosing death instead of revealing their true secret. Amorth did not have the strength to call the Teacher. Not only had Amorth killed the only four people who knew where the Cruciform key was hidden, he had killed a nun inside Saint-Sulpice. A crime of impulse, the woman's death complicated matters greatly. Bishop Myositis had placed the phone call that got Amorth into Saint-Sulpice; what would the abbé think when he discovered the nun was dead? Although Amorth had placed her back in her bed, the wound on her head was obvious. Amorth had attempted to replace the broken tiles in the floor, but the damage too was obvious. They would know someone had been there.Amorth had planned to hide within Copus peccate when his task here was completed. He could imagine no more b
The Depository Bank of Zurich was a twenty-four-hour Geldschrank bank offering the full modern array of anonymous services in the tradition of the Swiss numbered account. Maintaining offices in Zurich, Kuala Lumpur, New York, and Paris, the bank had expanded its services in recent years to offer anonymous computer source code escrow services and faceless digitalized back up.The bread and butter of its operation was by far it's oldest and simplest offering - the anonyme Lager - blind drop services, otherwise known as anonymous safe-deposit boxes. Clients wishing to store anything from stock certificates to valuable paintings could deposit their belongings anonymously, through a series of high-tech veils of privacy, withdrawing items at any time, almost in total anonymity.As Sophie pulled the taxi to a stop in front of their destination, Jim gazed out at the building's uncompromising architecture and sensed the Depository Bank of Zurich was a firm with little sense of humor. The build
The manager answered. "Oui?""We have a situation down here.""What's happening?" The manager demanded."The French Police are tracking two fugitives tonight.""So?""Both of them just walked into our bank.""The manger cursed quietly. "Okay, I'll contact Monsieur Alexandra immediately."The guard then hung up and placed a second call. This one to Interpol.Jim was surprised to feel the elevator dropping rather than climbing. He had no idea how many floors they had descended beneath the Depository Bank of Zurich before the door finally opened. He didn't care. He was happy to be out of the elevator.Displaying impressive alacrity, a host was already standing there to greet them. He was elderly and pleasant, wearing a neatly pressed flannel suit that made him look oddly out of place - an old-world banker in a high-tech world. "Bonsoir," the man said. "Good evening. Would you be so kind to follow me, s'il vous plait? Without waiting for a response, he spun on his heel and strode briskl
Fombellida Alexandra - president of the Paris branch of the Depository Bank of Zurich - lived in a lavish flat above the bank. Despite his plush accommodations, he had always dreamed of owning a Riverside apartment on L'lle Saint-Louis, where he could rub shoulders with the true cognoscenti, rather than here, where he simply met the filthy rich.When I retire, Alexandra told himself, I will fill my cellar with rare Bordeaux, adorn my salon with a Fragonard and perhaps a Boucher, and spend my days hunting for antique furniture and rare books in the Quartier Latin. Tonight, Alexandra had been awake only six and a half minutes. Even so, as he hurried through the bank's underground corridor, he looked as if his personal tailor and hairdresser had polished him to a fine sheen. Impeccably dressed in a silk suit, Alexandra sprayed some breath spray in his mouth and tightened his tie as he walked. No stranger to being awoken to attend to his international clients arriving from differen
"The police are blocking the streets," Fombellida Alexandra said, walking into the waiting room. "Getting you out will be difficult." As he closed the door behind him, Alexandra saw the heavy-duty case on the conveyor belt and halted in his tracks. Jim and Sophie were at the table, huddling over what looked to be a large wooden jewelry box. Sophie immediately closed the lid and looked up. " Turns out we had the account all this while," she said. Alexandra was bewildered. This changed everything. He respectfully diverted his eyes from the box and tried to plan his next move. Thinking how to get them out of the bank safely. He could imagine only one way to do that. "Mademoiselle McEwan, if I can get you safely out of the bank, will you be taking the item with you or returning it to the vault before you leave?"Jim suggested, "we need to take it."Alexandra nodded. "Very well. Then whatever the item is, I suggest you wrap it up in your coat as we move through the hallways. I would
Amorth lay down on the canvas mat in his room, allowing the lash wound on his back to clot in the air. Tonight's second session with the Discipline had left him weak. He had yet to remove the Cilice belt, and he could feel the blood trickling down his inner thigh. Still, he could not justify removing the strap. When Myositis described the opportunity that had presented itself, Amorth knew it could only be the hand of God at work. Myositis put Amorth in contact with the man who had proposed the plan - a man who called himself the Teacher. Although the Teacher and Amorth never met face-to-face, each time they spoke by phone, Amorth was awed, both by the profundity of the Teacher's faith and by the scope of his power. The Teacher seemed to be a man who knew all, a man with eyes and ears in all places. How the Teacher gathered his information was a mystery to Amorth, but Myositis had placed enormous trust in the Teacher, and he had told Amorth to do the same. "Do as the Teacher commands y