“Obviously,” said the Pope. “I suppose we now know who opened the Door of Death for the suicide bombers in October. It was Müller, wasn’t it?”

Gabriel nodded and looked at the television as the video of the attack began again.

“I wonder how many people have seen this image today,” the Pope said.

“Billions, Holiness.”

“Something tells me your days as a secret agent are over. Welcome back to the real world, Gabriel.”

“It’s not a world in which I’m comfortable.”

“What are your plans?”

“I have to return to Israel.”

“And then?”

“My future is somewhat uncertain.”

“As usual,” the Pope said. “Francesco Tiepolo tells me you and Chiara have reunited.”

“Yes, Holiness. She’s in Israel now.”

“What are your plans?”

“I have to marry her before she leaves me again.”

“Wise man. And then?”

“One step at a time, Holiness.”

“Will you allow me to give you one more piece of advice?”

“Of course.”

“As of this moment, you are the most famous man in Italy. A national hero. Something tells me the country would welcome you back with open arms. And this time not as Mario Delvecchio.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“If I were you, I’d make it a bridge back to Venice.”

The Pope gazed silently for a moment through the open door. “I don’t know what I’ll do if God takes him from me. I can’t run the Roman Catholic Church without Luigi Donati.”

“I remember the day he came to Jerusalem to see me,” Gabriel said. “When we were walking through the Old City, I foolishly described him as a faithless man at the side of a man of great faith. But it took a great deal of faith to step in front of those bullets.”

“Luigi Donati is a man of extraordinary faith. He just doesn’t realize it sometimes. Now I have to have faith. I have to believe that God will see fit to let me have him a little longer—and that He will now see fit to end this madness.”

The next question the Pope asked was the same one he had posed to Gabriel at the end of the attack in October.

“Is it over?”

This time Gabriel gazed at the television and said nothing.

No, Holiness, he thought. Not quite.

PART FOUR The Witness

PART FOUR

The Witness

39. Washington

Washington