"Vienna."

"Where he disappeared. Of course. And where did you go after that?"

"Switzerland." The answer surprised him. "What?"

"The Alps south of Zurich." Icicle hesitated. "Why did you go there?"

'To look for a friend of my father."

"Did you find him?"

"No... Disappeared." For a second time, an unexpected answer. "A diary

"I don't understand."

"Found a diary..."

"What was in it?"

"Nazi concentration camp..." Oh, Jesus, Icicle thought. "Your father's friend wrote a diary about the camp?"

"Yes."

"Was your father ever in a camp?"

"Yes." Icicle had the terrible sense that a pattern was forming. But she suddenly shifted topics. "Three men tried to kill us." Icicle let her lead him. "Yes, you mentioned them earlier. Where did this happen?"

"The Alps."

"Who were they?"

"Think they were priests..."

She was talking nonsense. Had the drug distorted her memory? She began to tremble, agitated by the semiconscious memory of the... "Priests?"

Icicle asked. "Why would priests want to kill you?" Her trembling increased. "Father Dusseault." Icicle's pulse sped. They were back to the question with which he'd started. "What about Father Dusseault? Why did you follow him? Is he connected with the priests who tried to kill you?"

"Paid through the cardinal's office."

"Cardinal Pavelic's office? The one who disappeared? Do you know where the cardinal is?"

"No."

"Are you looking for him?"

"No." Icicle's excitement changed to frustration. She had led him in a meaningless circle.

23.

It took two hours. Icicle guided her back through what she'd told him, prompting her for more details. As before, she became agitated when she talked about her missing father, about the three priests who'd tried to kill her husband and herself. At last, he turned from the woman and paced toward the far end of the room. He'd asked every question he could think of and learned too little. What bothered him were the questions he hadn't been able to think of, the unimaginable information she might have volunteered if only be knew what to ask for.

Seth continued to stare at the woman's nakedness. "What do you make of the rings she described?" Icicle asked. "Assassin-priests?" Seth turned from her. "I've practiced my trade for twenty years, and I've never heard of such a group."

"Nor have I. That doesn't mean she's mistaken. The group might be extremely cautious. And what about her father's disappearance? Is it related to the disappearance of our own fathers? To the disappearance of the cardinal?"

"The common element seems to be Father Dusseault," Seth said. "For different reasons, our search and this woman's led us to him."

"Let's not forget the other man and woman we saw in the gardens, the ones dressed as a priest and a nun.

What reason did they have to go after Father Dusseault? Why were they interested in Medici, just as we were? I'm sure it's all connected.

Father Dusseault has the answers, but we've lost the chance to question him."

"Perhaps," Seth said. Icicle frowned. "What are you thinking of?"

"The notion isn't fully formed yet I'll tell you when I'm sure it'll work." Staring at the woman, Seth took off his sports coat and began to unbutton his shirt. Icicle stepped protectively toward her. "Why are you undressing?"

"Relax. For the moment, this woman's body no longer interests me. I need to shave and shower. I'm going out You'll have to stay here and keep her sedated." Seth walked toward the bathroom. "Going out?"

Icicle's stomach squirmed with suspicion. "Why?" He quickly followed

Seth into the bathroom. "What do you--? Of course," he realized. "It's time we reported to Halloway. You'll want to use a safe phone to call him."

"Report to Halloway?" Seth said with contempt. "Not at all. We don't have anything conclusive to tell him. I make a habit of announcing success, not failure." Seth turned on the shower. "But with luck, if my errand proves successful, we will have positive news for him. Very soon."

24.

Saul awoke from a nightmare in which, surrounded by darkness, he heard

Erika scream. He bolted up, heard his wife scream again, and scrambled from bed to get to her before he realized that the screams were really the ringing of the telephone. Fully clothed, he found himself in the middle of the Rome hotel room. He had slept on a couch. Drew and

Arlene on the double bed. Sunlight glowed beyond closed draperies.

Saul picked up the phone, praying he'd hear Erika's voice. Instead he head Gallagher's, raspy, tired. "Romulus, the priest is ready for you to hear his confession. Come down to the room."

"I'm on my way." Saul looked at his watch. The time was shortly after

10 a. m. He'd gotten six hours sleep, but his nightmares had tortured him. He felt as exhausted as when he'd lain down. Drew and Arlene had awoken. "Who was that?" Drew asked. "Gallagher. It's quiz time." Saul went into the bathroom, splashed cold water on his face, then returned to Drew and Arlene. "Are you still determined not to get involved with the Agency?"

"I've got trouble enough with the Fraternity. I don't want to complicate my troubles by dealing with another network. After Scalpel,

I've had my fill of networks," Drew said. "The Agency would want to know everything about me. They'd try to recruit me, and failing that, they'd keep me under surveillance. They're like Krazy Glue. Once they touch you, you're stuck. Arlene and I just want to be left alone."