As I thought that, an idea skittered across my brain. It was there and gone. My three inner selves—the Cop, the Warrior, and the Civilized Man—all made grabs for it, but we came up dry.

So I went out and retrieved the Sabbatarians’ valise from the back of the vegetable truck, and then laid out the contents. Hammers and stakes to one side. I doubted they would be useful. Ditto the vials of holy water. But the bags of garlic powder and the jars of garlic oil … even touching them coaxed that idea out of its hiding place in the shadows of my brain.

I held a bag of garlic powder in one hand and a jar of oil in the other.

It was the Cop who figured it all out.

But it made the Warrior smile and smile.

Chapter Eighty-three

Chapter Eighty-Three

Abandoned Warehouse

Outskirts of Tehran

June 16, 1:34 a.m.

I needed to sleep, but I knew that wasn’t going to happen. Instead I walked the perimeter of the warehouse to make sure it was secure. It was. We could not have been farther from the flow of life here in Tehran if we were on the moon. The night sky was immensely dark and littered with ten trillion cold points of light.

I fished a stick of gum out of a pocket and chewed it, enjoying the mint burn, glad to be rid of the lingering taste of garlic. Ghost came sleepily out of the warehouse and trudged along with me, pausing now and again to leave his mark on useful walls.

I called in for Church but was rerouted to Aunt Sallie. She listened to my report without much comment except to make a biting remark about my “letting” Jamsheed get killed.

“You’re a charming lady,” I said. “Anyone ever tell you that?”

“Eat me,” she replied. “Church will be in touch when he wants you to know something. Until then, lay low and try not to get anyone else killed.”

A crushing reply was poised on the tip of my tongue but she hung up on me.

Almost immediately the phone buzzed and I hit the button in hopes of flattening Aunt Sallie with my rejoinder.

“Hello, Joseph.”

I smiled, “Hello, Violin.”

She paused and I strained to hear if there was any background noise, anything that I could use to get a lead on where she was. But there was nothing. Ghost must have heard her voice and he actually wagged his tail. Dog’s a little weird.

“Are you somewhere safe?”

“For now,” I said, though that was only true in the physical sense. Everything inside my head felt like it was a junk pile of hand grenades without their pins and bottles of badly stored chemicals. “Thanks for the help today.”

“I wish I could have warned you, but I found out where you were by following the Sabbatarians. There are teams of them all over Tehran.”