a few seconds were required for the vapors to work. Her body went limp.
"What are you doing?" Gary asked. "Why are you hurting her?"
"I'm not. But I assure you, they would have hurt you if your father had not acted." He faced Jesper. "Keep her safe, as we discussed."
His employee nodded. One of the men draped Margarete's stout body over his shoulder, and all three retreated into the trees.
"You knew she'd come out here?" Gary asked.
"As I said, it's good to know your enemy."
"Why are you taking her?"
He liked lessons and missed teaching Cai. "You don't drive a car without insurance. What we're about to do has risks, as well. She's our insurance."
FORTY-EIGHT
WASHINGTON, DC
STEPHANIE FROZE. HEATHER DIXON WAS ARMED AND ON guard. Cassiopeia's eyes raked the bedroom, and she knew that her cohort was looking for anything that could be used as a weapon.
"What is it?" she heard Daley ask Dixon.
"Your alarm is off. That means somebody's here."
"Big leap in logic, wouldn't you say?"
"Did you arm the panel before you left?"
A moment of silence passed. Stephanie knew they were trapped.
"I don't know," Daley said. "I may have forgotten. Wouldn't be the first time."
"Why don't I take a look just to be sure?"
"Because I don't have time for you to play soldier, and that gun in your hand is getting me hot. You're some kind of sexy."
"A flatterer today. That'll get you everything."
More silence, then a protest with a half-smothered moan.
"Easy on my head. That knot hurts."
"You okay?" Daley asked.
A zipper released.
"Toss that gun down," Daley said.
Footsteps thumped up the stairway.
She stared at Cassiopeia and whispered, "I don't believe this."
"At least we know where both of them are."
Good point, but little comfort. "I've got to check this out."
Cassiopeia clamped a hand onto her arm. "Leave them be."
Contrary to the past twelve hours where she'd made, at best, questionable decisions, she was thinking clearly now. She knew what needed to be done.
She crept from the bedroom and entered the den. A stairway just beyond led up, the front door to her right. She heard murmured voices, laughter, and the sound of the floorboards being challenged.
"What the hell's going on?" Stephanie wondered out loud.
"Didn't your investigation find this?"
She shook her head. "Not a word. Must be recent."
Cassiopeia disappeared back down the hall. She lingered a moment and spotted the same revolver Heather Dixon had drawn on her yesterday, lying in one of the chairs.
She grabbed the gun and left the den.
MALONE STARED AT THE ROSE WINDOW AND CHECKED HIS watch: 4:40 PM. This late in the year, the sun would start to set sometime in the next ninety minutes.
"This building is oriented on an east-west axis," he said to Pam. "That window is there to catch the evening sun. We need to go up there."
He spotted a doorway where an arrow indicated the upper choir. He walked over and found, nestled against the church's north wall, a wide stone stairway with a barrel-vaulted ceiling that made it look more like a tunnel.
He followed a crowd up.
At the top they entered the choir.
Two rows of high-backed wooden benches faced each other, ornamented with festoons and arabesques. Above them hung baroque paintings of various apostles. The aisle between the benches led to the church's west wall and the rose window thirty feet above.
He stared up.
Dust motes floated in the sheets of bright sunlight. He turned and studied the cross rising at the far end of the upper choir. He and Pam approached the balustrade and he admired the dramatic realism of the carved image of Christ. A placard at its base informed in two languages
CRISTO NA CRUZ
CHRIST ON THE CROSS
C. 1550
ESCULTURA EM MADEIRA POLICROMA
POLYCHROMED WOODEN SCULPTURE
"Where a retreating star finds a rose, pierces a wooden cross," Pam said. "This is it."
He agreed. But he was thinking about the next words.
And converts silver to gold.
He glanced back at the blazing rose window and followed the dusty rays as they passed the cross and entered the nave. Below, the light cleaved a trench on the checkerboard floor down a center aisle that bisected the pews. People milled about and didn't seem to notice. The light continued east to the people's altar and threw a faint glowing line onto its red carpet.
McCollum appeared from the lower choir and walked down the center aisle toward the front of the church.
"He's going to be wondering where we are," Pam said.
"He's not going anywhere. He seems to need us."
McCollum stopped between the last of the six columns and looked around, then