"Dottoressa Galloni, do you think I want to steal or destroy the shroud?"
D'Alaqua's words were spoken with a hint of mockery that amplified Sofia's sense of ridiculousness.
"I won't say we suspect you directly, but it's possible that some employee of yours might be involved."
"My human-resources man at COCSA, Signor Lazotti-I gave strict orders that he cooperate with you fully. Has he?"
"Yes, we have no complaint there. He's been very efficient and very generous with his time, and he sent us a long report on all the information I requested."
"Then allow me to ask you one more question, Dottoressa Galloni-what did you and your boss expect from this 'chance encounter' with me this evening?"
Sofia lowered her head and took a sip of champagne. She had no answer to that, at least no legitimate answer. You couldn't give a man like D'Alaqua excuses like "Marco had a hunch." For the second time, she felt she'd failed some subtle test.
She shrugged lightly and smiled. "We thought we'd just come and see what happened, Signor D'Alaqua."
"Shall we have something to eat?"
Startled by his abrupt change in course, Sofia looked at him. Had she heard right? But then Umberto D'Alaqua took her gently by the elbow and led her to the long buffet table. James Stuart, accompanied by the Minister of Finance, strolled over to them.
"Umberto, Horacio and I were having a little argument over the effect that the Asian flu is going to have on the European markets this year…"
Sofia listened as D'Alaqua outlined his interpretation of the Asian economic crisis, stunned by his mastery of the subject. She soon found herself drawn into the debate with the Minister of Finance and contesting some of Stuart's points, while D'Alaqua listened with interest. When their litde group broke up, she and D'Alaqua seated themselves at a table with other guests, where he continued to be attentive and charming. Sofia could see that he was at ease and enjoying himself, and she felt herself relaxing too.
"Your friend is delightful." Mary Stuart's cheery voice brought Marco back to reality as he watched his dazzling colleague across the terrace. Or was it Paola's surreptitious nudge in his ribs?
"Yes, she is," Paola replied. "Intelligent, accomplished, and charming."
'And lovely," Mary added. "I've never seen Umberto so interested in a woman. She must be exceptional if Umberto is so taken with her. He looks so happy, so relaxed with her."
"He's single, isn't he?" Paola asked.
"Yes, but we've never understood why. He's got it all-intelligence, looks, education, culture, money- and he's a wonderful person in the bargain. I don't know why you don't see more of him, John, and you, too, Lisa."
"Mary, dear, we don't actually travel in Umberto's circles. Nor yours-even if you are my favorite sister."
"Oh, Lisa, don't be silly."
"I'm not being silly, sweetheart. In my daily life, I don't run across ministers or bankers or multinational businessmen. There's no reason for me to. Or for John to."
"Well, you should see more of Umberto. He loves archaeology. He's financed several digs, and I'm sure you two have a great deal in common," Mary insisted.
It was almost one o'clock when Paola reminded Marco that she had to get up early the next day. Her first class was at eight. Marco asked her to tell Sofia they needed to go.
"Sofia, we're leaving," Paola said, leaning over the dottoressa's chair. "Do you want us to drop you off?"
"Thanks, Paola, I'd appreciate it."
D'Alaqua rose as Sofia did, kissed her hand in farewell, and promptly extended the same courtesy to Paola. He smiled, but his eyes had turned distant again. From time to time, as they had talked, Sofia thought she glimpsed something else there. But she read him perfectly now.
As Lisa and John accompanied them to the door, Sofia glanced a last time at the terrace. Umberto D'Alaqua was conversing animatedly with a group of guests.
They were barely in the car before Marco's curiosity got the better of him.
"So spill it, dottoressa; tell me what the great man said."
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Well, Marco, he did say it was more than obvious that we'd come to the party to see him. He made me feel like an absolute fool, caught flat out in a lie. And he asked straight out-dripping with sarcasm, of course- whether we thought that he was the one after the shroud."
"That's it?"
"The rest of the night we talked about Asian flu, oil prices, art, and literature."
"Well, you two certainly seem to have hit it off," Paola said.
"I suppose we did, in a way, but that's it."
"He might not think so," Paola insisted.
"You two planning on seeing more of each other?" Marco asked.
"No, I don't think that's going to happen. He was charming, as I said, but that's it."
"And that hurts."
"I guess if I was to be perfectly honest about my emotions I'd say it does, but I'm a big girl. I'll get over it."
"Which means it hurts," said Marco, grinning.
"You make a nice couple." Paola wouldn't give up.
"It's nice of you to say so, Paola, but I'm not kidding myself. A man like Umberto D'Alaqua isn't interested in a woman like me. We have nothing in common."
"You have a lot in common," Marco insisted. "Mary told us he loves art and archaeology, even finances excavations, sometimes goes on digs himself. And you, in case you didn't know, are also intelligent, educated, cultured, and gorgeous-right, Paola?"
"Well, of course. Mary even made a point of telling me that she'd never seen D'Alaqua as interested in a woman as he was in you tonight."
'All right, you two, let's drop it. The bottom line is that he told me in no uncertain terms that we'd crashed the party. Let's hope he doesn't lodge a protest with some government minister or president somewhere."
It was raining steadily, but a crackling fire enhanced the comfortable masculine luxury of the room, a library. Several paintings by Dutch masters revealed the sober taste of its owner. Settled on rich leather couches, the six men were deep in conversation.
They stood as the door opened and their elderly chief entered. One by one they stepped forward to embrace him. He motioned to them to resume their seats. "I'm sorry to be late, but it's hard to get anywhere in London at this hour. I couldn't get out of my bridge game with the duke and his friends and our brothers."
A soft tinkling sound at the door announced the butler, who entered to remove the tea service and offer the men drinks. When they were once again alone, the elderly man was the first to speak
'All right, then, let's have a review."
"Addaio has confined Zafarin, Rasit, and Dermisat to his estate outside Urfa. The penitence he's imposed on them is to last forty days, but my contact assures me that Addaio will not let it go at that, that he's preparing something further for them. As for sending a new team, he hasn't decided about that yet, but sooner or later he will send one. He's concerned about Mendib, the prisoner in jail in Turin. Apparently he's had a dream, one he can't shake, that Mendib will bring ruin to the community. Since then, he hardly eats, and he's not himself. My contact fears for his health and for what he might decide to do."