“I’m surprised they can operate so freely.”

“They can’t. There have been a lot of arrests over the years, here and elsewhere. They are charged as spies. The church doesn’t know about them and their own people disown them. Most of them die in prison.”

“Pity,” I said. “Are they really part of the Inquisition?”

“How did you—? Oh. You must have questioned some of them.”

“Only one and he didn’t know much.”

“You’re probably wrong about that. How hard did you try?”

Ouch, I thought. Ghost stood sniffing the wind as if trying to catch Violin’s scent on the breeze. Something caught his attention and he wandered off into the shadows. Probably some interesting jackal poop. Ghost is a scatological connoisseur.

“Since I already know some of it,” I said to Violin, “how about telling me more?”

“Yes,” she said.

It took me a two-count to catch up to that. “What?”

“Yes,” she said. “I think it’s time to tell you what’s going on.”

“First—whoopee, and I mean that sincerely. Second, why the change of heart?”

“It’s … complicated.”

“That seems to be a theme lately. Care to elaborate?”

“I asked my mother.” When I laughed, she said, “I’m not joking.”

“Your mother. Lilith, right?”

“How—? Ah … Mr. Church told you. Good, that will make it easier. She’s here in Tehran and she’s asked me to bring you to her.”

“When?”

“Now. Can you get away for an hour?”

“Maybe,” I said dubiously. “Where are you?”

“Right behind you,” she said.

Chapter Eighty-four

Chapter Eighty-Four

Abandoned Warehouse

Outskirts of Tehran

June 16, 1:41 a.m.

I spun around and tore my pistol out of its holster.

She was ten feet away and she already had her gun out and up.

Ghost came pelting out of the darkness like a white bullet, but I gave him a hand signal and he stopped thirty feet from Violin’s right flank, uttering a low growl that was full of promises. So much for wagging his tail. I guess that he didn’t like being blindsided any more than I did.

“Drop it,” I said.

“No,” she said, “I don’t think I will.”

We stared at each other.

She smiled first. Small and tentative. Then I felt my mouth twitch.

“On two?” I said.

“Sure.”

I counted it down and when I hit zero we both abruptly tilted our pistols to the sky and took our fingers off the triggers.

We stood there assessing each other, then lowered our guns. Neither of us reholstered them, though.

“Hello, Joseph,” she said.

“Hello, Violin.”