“Yes, if I could.”
She was silent a moment, then, “I’m the middle of something myself. But what papers do you wish to examine?”
“Your mother wrote a biography of a man named Appleton Kohath.”
“Goodness, yes, she did. The book came out three years ago, I believe. Unlike my brilliant mother, I couldn’t be bothered with anything historical but Churchill. Sorry, I can see her now, looking over the top of her glasses disapprovingly while I played with model tanks.” He heard her breath hitch. “Her death, it came as such a shock.”
Ben said, “She sounds like a very fine woman. I’m sorry, Ms. St. Germaine.”
“Forgive me, I suppose I’m still reeling. Now what is all this about the Appleton Kohath biography?”
Ben said, “We know Appleton Kohath was an Ark of the Covenant enthusiast, and the creator of the Genesis Group, but now we’ve run into a bit of a wall on a case. Nicholas hoped your mother kept her papers, her research, notes, anything that might quickly help us gain more insight into this man and his family. We need a shortcut into his world.”
“Oh, yes, I see. The entire shed in back of the house is crammed to the ceiling with her notes. You’re welcome to them. I need to sort them, her publisher has been after me. . . . Oh, I guess you don’t know. Mother was finishing an updated edition of the biography, far more in-depth, this one about Kohath and his family.” She sighed. “Her publisher wants the draft to see if it’s workable. I simply haven’t had the time to dig in. If you have the manpower, they’re yours.”
“Thank you, ma’am. I’m leaving from New York. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Don’t call me ma’am.”
“Yes, ma’—Okay.”
“Call me Melinda.”
He smiled as he said her name, and disconnected. Ben then called Nicholas, told him he was on his way to London.
Nicholas said, “You’ll like Melinda. She’s very savvy, well on her way to leading our country. Thank you, Ben. We’ll keep you posted and please, return the favor.”
• • •
Forty-five minutes later, Nicholas, Mike, and Kitsune said goodbye to Adam and Louisa, who complained that her Spanish wasn’t Italian, and the going was tough working the scene’s forensics. Clancy and Trident had the plane in the air in ten minutes flat. It was obvious they were bursting with questions but knew they’d have to wait for answers when everything was resolved, over beers.
A rental car waited for them, a gray Škoda Octavia, practically new, manual transmission, midsize, so the three of them fit comfortably. Nicholas liked the car; it was game and had enough power to keep driving interesting. He had the map to Castel Rigone open on his phone.
Mike looked thoughtful as he pulled out onto the highway. “We’ve got to figure out how to rescue Grant without getting all of us dead. I don’t think knocking on their front door and asking to see him will work.”
Kitsune said, “It’s me they want.” And she looked at Nicholas. “I have my two PPKs.”
Nicholas said, “Given what happened in Saint Mark’s Square yesterday, they want to kill all of us. I know you’re an excellent shot, Kitsune, but even with your Walthers, there’s no way we’re going to let you sacrifice yourself. Mike’s right, we need a plan, a way to sneak in.”
As they drove into the countryside, there was less and less traffic. Nicholas looked in his rearview and noticed a black sedan with dark tinted windows staying several cars behind them.
Mike said, “Nicholas, I don’t like the looks of that black car, can you see it? About fifty feet behind us.”
He smiled. “Yes, I see him and I don’t like it, either. Let’s see if they’re up to no good.” He pressed the Škoda’s accelerator. The sedan sped up, too, drawing closer.
Kitsune said, “Take a right, here, now! I know this road.”
Nicholas pulled the wheel to the right and the car skidded onto a small dirt road, deeply rutted from tractor wheels, and he soon saw why. There were olive groves to the left and right.
The sedan behind them nearly missed the turn. The driver was good, managed to straighten the car, accelerating as he did so, coming fast.
Mike saw the passenger window drop, saw a gun pointed at her. A man fired three times, in rapid succession. Kitsune fired back. Her second shot tore the side-view mirror off.
“Get away from them, Nicholas!”
“I’m trying.” Nicholas was weaving the car to the left then right, in and out of the ruts, making aiming hard. He called, “Get the Glock off my hip, Mike. There’s a second magazine in my pocket. Hurry, they’re coming back for more.”
She took his Glock and another magazine, dove into the back, started shooting out the side window.