"You've done the right thing." "T'he only thing," added Vasili. He touched her hand. "May IT' She released the faded scrap of paper; the Russian studied it. "It's the key," he said to Scofield. "It's also quite beyond anything we might have expecte&" "Whyr asked Bray.
"The Spaniard-the man Matarese killed-has been crossed out, but two of these names will startle you. To say the least, they are prominent. Here." Taleniekov crossed to Scofield, holding the paper delicately between two fingers so as not to damage it further. Bray took it in the palm of his hand.
"I don't believe it," said Scofield, reading the names. 'Td like to get this analyzed to make sure it wasn't written five days ago." "It wasn't," said the KGB man.
"I know. And that scares the hell out of me." "Perdona?" Sophia Pastorine stood by the shelf. Bray answered her in Italian.
"We recognize two of these names. They are wellknown men--?' "But they are not the menl" broke in the old woman, stabbing her cane on the floor. "None of theml They are only the inheritorsl They are controlled by another. He is the manl" "What are you talking about? WhoT' The dog growled. Neither Scofield nor Taleniekov paid any attention; an angry voice had been raised. The animal got to its feet, now snarling, the two men-their concentration on Sophia-still ignoring it. But the old woman did not. She held up her hand, a gesture for silence. She spoke, her anger replaced by alarm.
"Open the door. Call out for my granddaughter. Quicklyl" "What is it?" asked the Russian.
"Men are coming. They're passing through the thickets, Uccello hears them." Bray walked rapidly to the door. "How far away are they?" "On the other side of the ridge. Nearly here. Hurryl" Scofield opened the door and called out. "Youl Antonia. Come here.
Quicklyl" The dog's snarls came through bared teeth. Its head was thrust forward, its legs stretched and taut, prepared to defend or attack. Leaving the door open, Bray crossed to a counter and picked up a lettuce leaf. He tore it in half and placed the yellow scrap of paper between the two sections, and folded them together. "I'll put this in my pocket," he said to the KGB man.
"I've memorized the names and the countries," replied Taleniekov. "But then, I'm sure you have, too." The girl ran through the door, breathless, her field jacket only partially buttoned, the Lupo in her hand, the bulges of the automatics in her side pockets. "What's the matter?" Scofield turned from the counter. "Your... grandmother said men were coming. The dog heard them." "On the other side of the hill," interrupted the old woman. "Nine hundred paces perhaps, no more." "Why would they do that?" asked the girl. "Why would they come?" "Did they see you, my child? Did they see Uccello?" "They must have. But I said nothing. I did not interfere with them. They had no reason to think-" "But they saw you the day before," said Sophia Pastorine interrupting again.
"Yes. I bought the things you wanted." "Then why would you come back?" The old woman spoke rhetorically. "That is what they tried to understand, and they did. They are men of the hills; they look down at the grass and the dirt and see that three people traveled over the ground, not one. You must leave. All of you!" "I will not do that, grandmotherl" cried Antonia. "They won't harm us.
I'll say I may have been followed, but I know nothing." The old woman stared straight ahead. "You have what you came for, signori. Take it. Take her. Leavel" Bray turned to the girl. "We owe her that," he said. He grabbed the shotgun out of her hands. She tried to fight back but Taleniekov pinned her arms and removed the Browning and the Graz-Burya automatics from her pockets. "You saw what happened down there," continued Scofield. "Do as she says." The dog raced to the open door and barked viciously. Far in the distance, voices were carried on the morning breezes; men were shouting to others behind them.
"Got" said Sophia Pastorine.
"Come on." Bray propelled Antonia in front of him. "We'll be back after they've left. We haveet finished." "A moment, signorit" shouted the blind woman. "I think we have finished.
The names you possess may be helpful to you, but they are only the inheritors. Look for the one whose voice is crueler than the wind. I heard itl Find him. The shepherd boy.