He reached into his pocket for the fragment of rock, no bigger than the palm of his hand. This was all that was left of the flat stone with which he had hit Russell in the dark. Across its surface were the profound but perfect symbols that had been etched by no human hand.
Two tears ran down his cheeks, leaving tracks in the dust that covered his face. His fingertips traced over the symbols on the stone and his lips turned them into words.
Loh Tirtzach.
Thou shall not kill.
In that instant, he asked for forgiveness.
And was forgiven.
Acknowledgements
I want to thank the following people:
My parents, to whom this book is dedicated, for avoiding the bombs during the Civil War and for giving me a childhood so different from their own.
To Antonia Kerrigan, for being the best literary agent on the planet with the best team: Lola Gulias, Bernat Fiol and Víctor Hurtado.
To you, the reader, for making God’s Spy, my first novel, a success in thirty-nine countries. I truly thank you.
In New York, to James Graham, my ‘brother’. To Rory Hightower, Alice Nakagawa and Michael Dillman.
In Barcelona, Enrique Murillo, editor of this book, both untiring and tiring since he has one unusual virtue: he always told me the truth.
In Santiago de Compostela, Manuel Soutino, who lent his considerable understanding of engineering to descriptions of the Moses Expedition.
In Roma, Giorgio Selano for his knowledge of the catacombs.
In Milan, Patrizia Spinato, word tamer.
In Jordan, Samir Mufti, Bahjat al-Rimaui and Abdul Suheiman, who know the desert like nobody else and who taught me the gahwa ritual.
In Vienna, nothing would have been possible without Kurt Fischer, who provided me with information on the real butcher of Spiegelgrund, who died on 15 December of a heart attack.
And to my wife, Katuxa, and my children, Andrea and Javier, for being understanding about my trips and my schedule.
Dear reader, I don’t want to end the book without requesting a favour. Go back to the beginning of these pages and reread the poem by Samuel Keen. Do it until you memorise every word. Teach it to your children; send it to your friends. Please.
Blessed art thou, oh God, the Eternal, Universal Presence, who makes bread grow from the earth.
Juan Gómez-Jurado
