“Do you still believe?” Gabriel asked suddenly.

Donati took a moment before answering. “As I’m sure you’ve guessed by now, my personal faith is something of a complex matter. But I do believe in the power of the Roman Catholic Church to be a force for good in a world filled with evil. And I believe in this Pope.”

“So you’re a faithless man at the side of a man of great faith.”

“Well put,” Donati said. “And what about you? Do you still believe? Did you ever?”

Gabriel stopped walking. “The Canaanites, the Hittites, the Amalekites, the Moabites—they’re all gone. But for some reason we’re still here. Was it because God made a covenant with Abraham four thousand years ago? Who’s to say?”

“‘I will bless you greatly and make your descendants as numerous as the stars of heaven and the sands of the seashore,’” Donati said, quoting the twenty-second chapter of Genesis.

“‘And your descendants shall come to possess the gates of your enemies,’” Gabriel said, finishing the passage for him. “And now my enemy wants those gates back, and he’s willing to do anything, including sacrifice his own son, to get them back.”

Donati smiled at Gabriel’s clever interpretation of Scripture. “We’re not so different, you and I. We’ve both given our lives over to higher powers. For me, it’s the Church. For you, it’s your people.” He paused. “And the land.”

They walked farther along the Via Dolorosa, into the Muslim Quarter. When the street was enveloped in shadow, Gabriel pushed his sunglasses onto his forehead. Palestinian shopkeepers eyed him curiously from their crowded stalls.

“Is it all right for you to be here?”

“We’ll be fine.”

“I take it you’re armed.”

Gabriel allowed his silence to serve as an answer. As they walked on Donati’s gaze was on the cobblestones, and his dark brow was furrowed in concentration.

“If I know Ali Massoudi is dead, is it safe to assume his comrades know he’s dead, too?”

“Of course.”

“Do they also know his computer contained those photographs? And that it fell into your hands?”

“It’s possible.”

“Might that encourage them to accelerate their plans?”

“Or it might cause them to postpone the operation until you and the Italians let your guard down again.”

They passed through Damascus Gate. Gabriel lowered his sunglasses as they entered the crowded, cacophonous market square beyond the walls.

“There’s something you should know about those photos,” Donati said. “They were all taken during the Holy Father’s general audience, when he greets pilgrims from around the world in St. Peter’s Square.”

Gabriel stopped walking and gazed at the golden Dome of the Rock, floating above the stone walls. “The general audience takes place on Wednesdays, does it not?”

“That’s correct.”

Gabriel looked at Donati and said, “Today is Tuesday.”