Chapter 17
CHAPTER 17
C OTTON APPROACHED THE TRAIN AND SIGHTED DOWN THE LENGTH of cars. A scattering of passengers had already boarded, more coming on.
The woman had to be aboard.
The doors hissed open and he stepped inside, the train throbbing, waiting anxiously to leave. A clanking of mechanical joints signaled an imminent departure. The German railway was famous for being on time. Today seemed no exception. The doors closed and the train moved without a sound, gliding from the station. No bells or whistles or announcements. Just moving. Slow at first, then gathering speed.
He sat down opposite a young couple, their eyes half closed, their heads together, hands touching lightly. They smiled, not looking at each other, obviously drawing strength from the other’s presence. He thought of Cassiopeia. He hadn’t seen her in a couple of weeks. He’d asked her to come along, but she’d been needed in France at her rebuilding site. What an effort. Erecting a thirteenth-century castle from the ground up using only the tools and materials of the era. She was passionate about the project and told him she needed to make up time from some recent setbacks. He admired her dedication. She was a smart, sassy, brave woman who’d saved his hide more than once. And he loved her.
As she did him.
He angled his head and stared down the long corridor of swaying cars through the windows at each end.
The woman was here.
He just needed to find her.
T HOMAS SAT ALONE, HIS HIRED HELP IN THE NEXT CAR.
His new instructions were to proceed to Munich and await the arrival of Cardinal Richter, then orchestrate the man’s suicide. He’d accomplished his first task, making sure there was money to find inside the Dillenburg residence and that the local police were involved to corral the American. The killing of the Swiss Guard contact in Cologne had also been part of his original mission. Why was that necessary? Not his place to ask. Nor did he care. What concerned him was the problem the text mentioned.
The plan was to travel overnight to Munich and deal with Richter, who was scheduled to arrive there tomorrow evening. The envelope he’d been provided earlier at Stonehenge contained details about the Munich residence and Richter’s most commonly known traits and habits. All of that information would prove vital in the coming days as an appropriate “suicide” was enacted. How? When? No need to think about that now.
A little rest would be welcomed.
He was about to lay his head back and relax for a few hours when he caught sight of someone in the car ahead.
Standing up.
A man.
With a face he recognized.
C OTTON STOOD FROM HIS SEAT AND DECIDED TO MAKE HIS WAY closer to the woman. She was somewhere in the cars ahead. He needed to be close, but not too close. She knew his face. And he needed to see where this led. What he was doing was way outside his mission parameters. But there seemed no choice. Things had not played out according to plan.
He worked his way down the aisle, passed through the connecting door between cars, and kept going through the next car. The seats were about half full with an assortment of singles and doubles.
Through the next car and still no target.
Then he spotted her in the following car. The conductor was checking tickets, so he took a seat, but kept watch through the glass panels.
Nowhere for her to go.
So don’t rush it.
T HOMAS WATCHED AS COTTON MALONE RETOOK ANOTHER SEAT two cars ahead. What was he doing here? He should be under arrest in Dillenburg. He’d been told about Malone and provided a bio and photograph. The man was a trained intelligence officer who once worked for the United States Justice Department. Retired now. Living in Denmark. Owner of a rare-book shop who apparently still freelanced on occasion.
A professional.
The plan had been simple.
Plant the money, confirm its presence officially, then have the American arrested for trespassing, drawing lots of attention. He assumed the media would have been involved next. Now Malone was here. On the train. In pursuit of his associate?
Was that the problem ?
Malone was not supposed to be anywhere near Cologne. Was he himself likewise compromised? No. Malone had walked right past him and never blinked. But Malone clearly knew about the woman. What had happened in the Cologne Cathedral?
He needed to know.
Acolytes could be easily hired. He had a running list of names who all worked for a price. Nothing was out of bounds, and the loss of one would not matter in the least.
This trail had to go cold.
Now.