I, Saul (38 page)

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Authors: Jerry B. Jenkins

BOOK: I, Saul
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PRESENT-DAY ROME
MONDAY, MAY 12, 11:00 A.M.

Augie knew exactly what Trikoupis would do. So eager to learn where the priceless memoir was, he would immediately call Sardinia and instruct him to get word to Sofia that her father would be joining them. Since Sofia no longer had a phone, and Augie was protecting his own number, having Sardinia tell his daughter would be the only way he could get word to Augie that he was honoring the demand to show up.

This was it. All the principals would be in place. And if Augie could talk him into it, Roger would be there too. He turned and faced the Art Squad headquarters and texted Roger, “b @ r suite 2nite @ 8.”

“u suicidal?”

“I came here 4 u, Rog.”

“2 keep me alive, not get me killed.”

“if u trust me, b there.”

“need 2 talk. will call.”

“don't. busy till then.”

Augie's phone rang. “I'm calling from a pay phone,” Sofia said, “and I've got to hurry in case I'm being followed. I met Sardinia. Smooth and charming, not like the ones who started in on me. Right in the middle of questioning me he takes a call and tells me I'm free to go if I'll give you a message. ‘Your wish has been granted.' Mean anything to you?”

“It does. Just tell me nobody hurt you.”

“They just tried to intimidate me. For all I know they released me to be murdered.”

“You know I never would have abandoned you—.”

“No, I was afraid you'd follow me into their trap. Glad you didn't. Where did you go?”

Augie told her and said he planned to meet with Colonel Emmanuel as soon as he got off the phone, “while I know Sardinia is out of the office.”

“Please don't, love,” she said. “They'll arrest you on the spot.”

“That's a risk I have to take. You just need to find somewhere to lie low until eight tonight and then meet Roger and me at the suite.”

“No! They've been tracking us. They knew I'd switched hotels and that Roger is there. They've probably already found him.”

“He got out just in time.”

“Augie, please, just find out who Roger used for his new ID, get yourself a disguise and a forged passport, and get out of Italy. I'll try to meet you in the States.”

“Sofia, do you trust me?”

“I'm not coming back to the hotel.”

“You think I'd put you in harm's way for even one second?”

“No, but—.”

“Then I'll see you at eight. Stay safe. I love you” “Augie—.”

As he stepped past the potted plants, Augie saw a sniper behind a fence on the roof. He was barking into a walkie-talkie. When Augie reached the entrance, he stood with his back to the wall, punching a number into his phone. A guard emerged.
“Stato prego il vostro business, sir. Non posso avere te vagabondaggio qui.”

Augie covered his phone. “Sorry. English?”

“State your business please, sir. I can't have you loitering here.”

“As soon as I finish this call, I'm coming inside.”

“No more tours today.”

“No tour. Business. Thanks for your patience.”

He turned back to his phone.

“Augie, what the devil? It's four-thirty in the morning here!”

“Biff, listen, you know I'd never wake you if it wasn't crucial.” Augie told him what he needed, which required Biff to immediately head to his own office at Dallas Seminary.

“You're gonna so owe me, Knox.”

“Only my life. I know my phone has enough capacity, but how long for the download?”

“First I gotta see if it's there.”

“Text me when you know.”

“Want me to serve you breakfast too?” “Seriously, Biff, you're the best.”

“Who you tellin'?You got a charger with you, like I told you, right?”

“I do.”

“How much battery life right now?”

“A little more than half.”

“Charge it again as soon as you can.”

The guard shadowed Augie as he approached the receptionist. “English?” he said. She nodded. “I need to see Colonel Emmanuel.”

The woman checked her calendar. “I can see if he has any time next week.”

“No, now.”

“Without an appointment, I'm sorry.”

“It's urgent. I know he'll want to—.”

“Sir,” the guard said, taking Augie's elbow. “Make an appointment or leave.”

“I know he's in and will see me. Just tell him Dr. August A. Knox from Dallas, Texas, is here about the Klaudios Giordano murder.”

The girl blanched and the guard produced handcuffs. “Call him,” the guard said. “Hands behind your back. You're doing the right thing, giving yourself up.”

“You don't have to cuff me.”

“No,
Signore,”
the receptionist was saying,
“egli non sembra pericoloso”
She covered the phone. “Dr. Knox, I told him you do not look dangerous, but he wants to know if you're armed.”

“Yes, I am.”

The guard tightened the cuffs, reached for his own sidearm, and pressed the button on his walkie-talkie.
“Hai bisogno di aiuto nella lobby prega, immediatamente!”

“You don't need help,” Augie said. “It's a nine millimeter under my shirt in back.”

As the guard yanked it out, two other officers barged in with guns drawn. “Really,” Augie said as the guard frisked him, “I'm harmless.”

She sat back down. “Tell him he surrendered a handgun,” the guard said.

“Ha
ceduto una pistola, colonnello . .
.” she said into the phone.
“Va bene, sì, Signore.”

Ashen, voice shaky, the girl turned to the guard,
“Il colonnello dice di portarlo nella stanza sicura e lui sarà là voi in pochi minuti.”
“Taking me to a holding cell?” Augie said.

“Just an interrogation room secured against surveillance. Looks like you got your appointment.”

As the guard led him to an elevator, the receptionist's phone rang again. She said, “E
mi troverete nell'armadietto file sotto Knox?”

“What was that about?” Augie said, as the guard hit the button for the fourth floor.

The man shrugged. “The colonel wants the Knox files.”

“I'm on file already?”

When they reached the secure room, the guard nodded to a chair on the other side of a plain wood table. Augie said, “Could you get my phone and charger out of my pocket and plug it in?”

The guard shook his head.

Colonel Emmanuel showed up in a natty business suit. Carrying two file folders, one yellowed with age, he had the look of a man who had worked his way up through the ranks. He and the guard conversed in Italian, and Augie found Emmanuel surprisingly soft-spoken. As the guard was leaving, the colonel withdrew his own sidearm and traded it for the handcuff key.

Emmanuel delicately placed the folders on the table, along with a small recording device. Still standing, he flipped it on and said,
“Italiano o in inglese?”

“Texan,” Augie said.

Emmanuel did not appeared amused. His English was precise and formal, heavily accented. “I assume you will behave if I remove the manacles?”

“Promise.”

The colonel stepped behind him and released the cuffs.

“Was that a Smith & Wesson you were carrying?” Augie said. “A nine millimeter?”

Emmanuel looked surprised. “A Beretta thirty-eight. Why?”

“Just curious. I'm new to all this stuff. Hey, I really need to charge my phone. Do you mind? I'll set it on silent.”

The man narrowed his eyes as he took a seat across from Augie. Finally he nodded toward an outlet. Augie plugged in the phone, and as he sat back down, the director said, “You seem remarkably cheerful under the circumstances. Do you see the names on these files?” He turned them toward Augie.

“Knox and Knox. All right, you have my attention.”

“And you have mine, Doctor. You told the receptionist you were from Dallas. Are you not actually from Arlington?”

“Yes, but most people only know the big city—.”

“And your profession?”

“Professor at Arlington Theological Seminary.”

Emmanuel pulled a photocopy from the newer file and turned it right side up for Augie. “Do you agree that this is a copy of your passport?”

“Of course.”

Emmanuel put the older file on top. “Who is Dr. Edsel Knox?”

Augie recoiled. “That—that would be my father, sir.”

“I wondered. How is he?”

“How is he? Not well, actually. Why do you ask?”

“I once met him.”

“You
met
him?”

Emmanuel sat back and told how he, a young officer on one of his first cases, had been assigned the matter of a tourist in Dr. Knox's group who had found an ancient coin near a historic site and refused to surrender it to authorities. “Your father was most meticulous and honest. Were it not for him, the tourist could have easily left the country without being found out.”

“That sounds like my father, all right.”

“Which make this all the more surprising,” Emmanuel said.

“This?”

“Your coming under suspicion for the theft of an antiquity, not to mention two homicides.”

“And yet I voluntarily came to you, eager to tell you everything. I ask only that you hear my account.”

Emmanuel offered a closed-mouth smile. “For the sake of your father. But you must understand that you will not be released unless you are cleared of some very serious charges. As we speak, my department is investigating you through Interpol and our own government, with the assistance of the FBI. In the meantime, in homage to your father's character, I offer you the courtesy of listening. But you realize that anything you say that does not align with what our investigation reveals will put you in further jeopardy.”

Augie could see how Emmanuel ascended to his position. “That's fair. But I must inform you that by offering me this courtesy, you risk hearing things about your own squad that will surprise you.”

Emmanuel looked skeptical. “Before we begin, I am required to ask: Do you wish to be represented by legal counsel?”

“No.”

“You have the right to change your mind about that at any time, but meanwhile everything you tell me is on the record and may be used against you.”

“Understood.”

“Now, are you legally entitled to possess the weapon we confiscated?”

“I am not. And technically, you didn't confiscate it. I surrendered it, having carried it only in the belief that my life was in mortal danger.”

Colonel Emmanuel rested his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers. “Tell me what you are doing in Italy, from the moment you decided to come, through your arrival, the procurement of the weapon, whom you saw, and what your business was. I will not interrupt you.”

Augie nodded, knowing Emmanuel was offering him the rope with which he could hang himself.

“First, a question,” Augie said. “Your recording device. May I ask its capacity?”

“Twelve hours. Do you expect to keep me that long, Doctor?”

“Oh, no. But you will see why I asked. If I can just check my cell, I'll be ready.”

Emmanuel hesitated but finally shrugged. Augie peeked at his phone.

Don't respond till download is complete in less than an hour. Can't BELIEVE what you get yourself into. Promise me every detail.

Biff's contraption had worked from more than fifty-five hundred miles away and could provide the hammer to smash both a dirty carabiniere and a black marketer posing as a respected businessman.

But it could also cost Augie his life.

Emmanuel looked directly into Augie's eyes and indicated the floor was his.

“I am in Italy to help a friend. This past Wednesday, May 7, I was about to oversee a final exam for one of my classes at the seminary when Roger Michaels texted me to call him immediately and added that he was desperate. I first met Roger ….”

For over an hour, Emmanuel barely moved, staring at Augie, probably assessing his body language. Augie was doing the same. He could tell that the colonel knew both Malfees Trikoupis and Dimos Fokinos.

When Augie quoted Fokinos's claim that his highly placed contact in the Art Squad played his boss like a fiddle, the chief pressed his lips together. Was he defensive, or did he simply find it impossible to believe the account?

Emmanuel's expression changed again when Augie recounted the phone conversation between Trikoupis and Sardinia. Augie wondered if he was trying to fathom the possibility that Sardinia really was a criminal.

As Augie came to the end of his story, Emmanuel stood. He had Augie repeat a couple of anecdotes, then said, “And you sincerely expect Deputy Director Sardinia and Malfees Trikoupis to actually meet you tonight?”

“I do.”

“Thank you, Dr. Knox. I must say I was intrigued, if not entirely convinced. Let me check on what my staff has learned from Interpol and the FBI. I will also have the recording evaluated, so if you wish to amend any of your claims, now is the time.”

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