down. “Look at the state of you—you’re dead on your feet. What the hell difference can you make?”
“You called me, Bill,” Ethan reminded him, “and I’ve just escaped Israeli custody to get here, so tell me what’s happened.”
Griffiths closed his eyes for a moment before speaking. “One of the guards at what may have been Lucy Morgan’s dig site, a MACE soldier, was killed by a Bedouin yesterday afternoon.” Ethan kept his expression neutral. “Turns out that when the soldier was autopsied, his buddies reported that the Bedouin had claimed he was searching for his son, an Ahmed Khan. The surgeon who autopsied the soldier recognized the name, as he’d autopsied this Ahmed just the day before.”
“So? He was supposedly found dead in the desert, drugs or drink or something.”
Griffiths shook his head. “Ahmed Khan worked for the university as a guide for some years. I met him several times. He didn’t take drugs and he didn’t drink.” Griffiths leaned forward on the table. “Point is, Ahmed’s body was poisoned with something like cyanide. It was in his lungs and nearly wiped out the surgeon who autopsied him.”
Ethan reached into his pocket. From within, he produced a specimen jar with a label stuck to the outside.
“Lucy Morgan excavated several bones for DNA analysis before returning to the field, and this is one of them. Another is in Chicago’s Field Museum. No matter where you or MACE take those remains, police forces will be able to genetically match it to these bones. There’ll be no place to hide and no way for you to extricate yourself from your involvement in what is now a crime.”
Griffiths slammed a balled fist down on the table.
“MACE directed us to that site three days ago! If there’s a crime that’s been committed, then go to them with your accusations!”
“Israel and the United States won’t see it that way,” Ethan said simply.
Griffiths shook his head.
“Why would MACE abduct her? They only needed the remains, not the scientist.”
“We don’t know, but she’s being held against her will and MACE has no reason to keep her alive. The question is, Bill, what are you going to do about it?”
Griffiths still refused to look at him and Ethan made full use of his discomfort.
“Think about it. You’ve told me that you were directed to the remains by MACE. Why the hell would they have found the site and excavated the remains without informing the authorities of what they’d found or Lucy’s absence? It’s your call, Bill. Are you really the sort of guy to profit from death?”
Griffiths sighed heavily.
“If I help you, what are you planning to do?”
Ethan grinned. “Go for a jaunt with some friends.”
RECHAVIA
JERUSALEM
“They’re onto him.”
The voice was distorted by digital scrambling devices fitted to Byron Stone’s SUV. Bright sunlight from the rising dawn beamed in shafts between buildings outside and flickered through the interior of the vehicle as it cruised through the narrow streets.
“When?” Stone asked.
“Half an hour ago, two MPD detectives. They’ve tracked down Sheviz’s connection to the pastor but they’re still fishing around for something usable.”
“Patterson’s a moron,” Stone spat into the phone, “another fundamentalist who’s climbed so far up God’s ass he can’t see where he’s going anymore. The police will work it all out eventually, and when they do Patterson’s pious little fantasy will collapse.”
“We need to break the link between DC and Israel before the Bureau gets involved,” the voice cautioned. “If Patterson is investigated, he’ll sing like a canary once they threaten him with a cell and I can’t hold them off forever.”
Stone considered this for a moment. Kelvin Patterson was one of the most outspoken conservatives in all of America, making the most outrageous statements while hiding behind a thin veneer of compassionate faith. But most all such men fell victims to their own bigotry and hypocrisy: homophobic pastors found to have indulged in gay relationships, anticorruption pastors arrested for embezzlement and fraud, countless others arrested for child molestation and other unspeakable crimes. Robbed of his power and his influence, Kelvin Patterson would become the man he had always been: weak, timid, and afraid.
“Then we must prepare for the worst,” Stone said.
“Understood,” the voice replied. “What about the detectives?”
Stone gripped the phone tighter.
“They must not make a connection between MACE and Sheviz,” he said firmly. “Find a weakness and exploit it. Keep them at bay until tomorrow and all will be done.”
“I’ll do what I can. What about the boy?”
“He’s as much of a liability as the pastor,” Stone