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
Fombellida Alexandra looked awkward with a pistol, but his eyes shone with a determination that Jim sensed would be unwise to test. "I'm afraid I must insist," Alexandra said, training the weapon on the two of them in the back of the idling truck. "Keep the box down." Sophie clutched the box to her chest. "You said you and my grandfather were friends.""I have a duty to protect your grandfather's assets," Alexandra replied. "And that is exactly what I am doing. Now keep the box on the floor.""My grandfather entrusted this to me!" Sophie declared."Do it," Alexandra commanded, raising the gun.Sophie kept the box at her feet.Jim watched the gun barrel swing now in his direction."Mr. Jim," Alexandra said, "you will bring the box over to me. And be that I will not hesitate to shoot you, if you try to act finally."Jim stared at the banker in disbelief. "Why are you doing this?""Why do you think so?" Alexandra snapped, his accented English terse now. "To protect my client's asse
As the unmarked Honda Accord departed Castel Gandolfo, sneaking downward through the Alban Hills Into the Valley below. In the back seat, Myositis smiled, feeling the weight of the bearer bonds in the briefcase on his lap and wondering how long it would take before he and Teacher could make the exchange. The sum would buy Myositis power far more valuable than that. As his car sped back toward Rome, he found himself wondering why the Teacher had not yet contacted him. Pulling his cell phone from his cassock pocket, he checked the carrier signal. Extremely faint. "Cellular service is intermittent up here," the driver said, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. "In a few minutes, we'll be out of the mountains, and service improves." "Thank you." Myositis felt a sudden surge of concern. Maybe the Teacher had been trying to reach him all this time. Maybe something had gone terribly wrong. Quickly, he checked his phone's voicemail. Nothing. Then again, he realized, the Teacher never
The night manager of the Depository Bank of Zurich felt relieved to hear the bank president's voice on the phone. "Where did you go sir? The police are here, everyone is waiting for you!" "I had a little problem," the bank president said, sounding distressed. "I need your help right away."The police had entirely surrounded the bank and were threatening to have the judicial police captain show up with the warrant the bank had demanded. "How can I help you, sir?"Truck number three. I need to find it."Puzzled, the manager checked his delivery schedule. "It's here. Downstairs at the holding dock.""Actually, no. The truck was stolen by two individuals the police are tracking.""What? How did they drive out?""I can't go into details on the phone, but we have a situation here that could potentially be extremely unfortunate for the bank.""What do you need me to do, sir?""I'd like you to activate the truck's tracker." The night manager's eyes moved to the control box across the r
Standing at the roadblock outside the Depository Bank. Lieutenant Suslowicz wondered what was taking Romano so long to come up with the search warrant. The bankers were obviously hiding something. They claimed Davis and McEwan had arrived earlier and were turned away from the bank because they did not have proper Account identification. So why won't they let us inside for a look?Finally, Suslowicz's cellular phone rang. It was the command post at the Louvre. "Do we have a search warrant yet?" Suslowicz demanded."Forget about the bank, Lieutenant," the agent told him. "We just got a tip. We have the exact location where Davis and McEwan are hiding."Suslowicz sat down hard on the hood of his car. "You're kidding.""I have an address in the suburbs. Somewhere near Sunnyvales.""Does captain Romano know?""Not yet. He's busy on an important call.""I'm on my way. Have him call as soon as possible." Suslowicz took down the address and jumped in his car. As he peeled off from the bank, S
The clicking of Rodriguez's crutches approached in the hallway, his Pace unusually brisk. When their host entered the room, his expression was stern."You'd better explain yourself, Davis," he said coldly. "You have not been honest with me." " I'm telling you the truth, Rodriguez," Jimmy said, trying to stay calm. You know me. I would never take a life.Rodriguez's tone did not soften. "Jim, you're on television, for Christ's sake. Did you know you were wanted by the authorities?""Yes.""Then you abused my trust. I'm astonished you would put me at risk by coming here and asking me to ramble about the Archstone so you would hide out in my home." "I didn't take any life.""Marquis Esquibel is dead, and the police say you did it." Rodriguez looked saddened. "Such a contributor to the arts…""Sir?" The manservant had appeared now, standing behind Rodriguez in the door, his arms crossed. "Shall I show them out?""Allow me." Rodriguez hobbled across the room, unlocked a set of wi