The Order (Gabriel Allon #20) - Daniel Silva Page 0,10
spend your retirement?”
“You make it sound as though I should start looking for an assisted-living facility.”
“You are getting on in years, darling.” She patted the back of his hand. It didn’t make him feel any younger. “Well?” she asked.
“I plan to devote my final years on this earth to making you happy.”
“So you’ll do anything I want?”
He regarded her carefully. “Within reason, of course.”
She cast her eyes downward and picked at a loose thread in the tablecloth. “I had coffee with Francesco yesterday.”
“He didn’t mention it.”
“I asked him not to.”
“That explains it. And what did you talk about?”
“The future.”
“What does he have in mind?”
“A partnership.”
“Francesco and me?”
Chiara made no reply.
“You?”
She nodded. “He wants me to come to work for him. And when he retires in a few years …”
“What?”
“Tiepolo Restoration will be mine.”
Gabriel recalled the words Tiepolo had spoken while standing over the tomb of Tintoretto. Today you’re on holiday, but one day you’ll die in Venice … He doubted this scheme had been hatched over coffee yesterday.
“A nice Jewish girl from the ghetto will be caring for the churches and scuole of Venice? Is that what you’re saying?”
“Rather remarkable, isn’t it?”
“And what will I do?”
“I suppose you can spend your days wandering the streets of Venice.”
“Or?”
She smiled beautifully. “You can work for me.”
This time it was Gabriel who looked down. His phone was aglow with an incoming message from King Saul Boulevard. He turned the device over. “It might be controversial, Chiara.”
“Working for me?”
“Leaving Israel the minute my term is over.”
“Do you intend to run for a seat in the Knesset?”
He rolled his eyes.
“Write a book about your exploits?”
“I’ll leave that chore to someone else.”
“So?”
He made no reply.
“If you stay in Israel, you’ll be within easy reach of the Office. And if there’s a crisis, they’ll drag you back in to right the ship, just like they did to Ari.”
“Ari wanted back in. I’m different.”
“Are you really? Sometimes I’m not so sure about that. In fact, you’re getting more like him every day.”
“What about the children?” he asked.
“They adore Venice.”
“School?”
“Believe it or not, we have several very fine ones.”
“They’ll turn into Italians.”
She frowned. “A pity, that.”
Gabriel exhaled slowly. “Have you seen Francesco’s books?”
“I’ll knock them into shape.”
“The summers here are dreadful.”
“We’ll go to the mountains or sail the Adriatic. It’s been years since you’ve sailed, darling.”
Gabriel had run out of objections. In truth, he thought it was a marvelous idea. If nothing else, it would keep Chiara occupied during the final two years of his term.
“Do we have a deal?” she asked.
“I believe we do, provided we come to terms on my compensation package, which will be exorbitant.”
He signaled the waiter for the check. Chiara was pulling at the loose thread in the tablecloth again.
“There’s one thing that’s bothering me,” she said.
“About uprooting the children and moving to Venice?”
“The Vatican bollettino. Luigi always remained by Lucchesi’s side late into the evening. And when Lucchesi went to the chapel to pray and meditate before bed, Luigi always went with him.”
“True.”
“So why was Cardinal Albanese the one who found the body?”
“I suppose we’ll never know.” Gabriel paused. “Unless I have lunch with Luigi in Rome tomorrow.”
“You can go on one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“Take me with you.”
“What about the children?”
“My parents can look after them.”
“And who’s going to look after your parents?”
“The carabinieri, of course.”
“But—”
“Don’t make me ask twice, Gabriel. I really hate playing the role of the complaining wife. They’re so annoying, those women.”
5
VENICE—ROME
NEXT MORNING THEY DROPPED THE children at the Zolli house after breakfast and hurried over to Santa Lucia in time to make the eight o’clock train to Rome. As the rolling plains of central Italy slid past their window, Gabriel read the newspapers and exchanged a few routine e-mails and texts with King Saul Boulevard. Chiara leafed through a thick stack of home design magazines and catalogs, licking the tip of her index finger with each turn of the page.
Occasionally, when the combination of shadows and light was favorable, Gabriel caught sight of their reflection in the glass. He had to admit, they were an attractive couple, he in his fashionable dark suit and white dress shirt, Chiara in her black leggings and leather jacket. Despite the pressure and long hours of his job—and his many injuries and brushes with death—Gabriel judged he had held up rather well. Yes, the lines around his jade-colored eyes were a bit deeper, but he was still trim as a cyclist, and he had retained all his hair. It was short and dark