He chuckled briefly: “Sorry, Ms. Patrick. Your sources are too good as it is. Now, you’ll have to excuse me….”
And he ducked into his limousine along with a heavy-set, rough-featured man who wore a rumpled suit, and the car drew away with the purr of German automotive excellence.
She stood watching it, thinking that at least he hadn’t given her a brusque “No comment,” and that, in a town as small as Jerusalem, she was sure to run into him again.