"If I might inquire . . ." asked Jennings. "Maybe if I knew what his business was with you ..."

"It was business about a hospital. He wanted ... a donation."

"What hospital?"

"Oh, in Rome. I'm not sure."

"Did he leave you his address?"

"No. As a matter of fact I'm a little upset about that. I promised I'd send a check and I don't know where to send it."

Jennings nodded. "Guess we're in the same boat, then."

"I guess we are," responded Thorn.

"He just came and went, is that it?"

"Yes."

"And you never saw him again?"

Thorn's jaw tightened, and Jennings caught it, seeing clearly that the Ambassador was hiding something.

"Never again."

"Thought maybe ... he might have attended one of your speeches."

Their eyes caught and held, Thorn sensing he was being played with.

"What's your name?" asked Thorn.

"Jennings. Haber Jennings."

"Mr. Jennings ..."

"Haber."

"Haber."

Thorn studied the man's face, then averted his eyes, again looking out the window.

"Sir?"

"... I have a great interest in finding this man. The priest who was here. I'm afraid I was abrupt with him and I'd like to make amends."

"Abrupt in what way?"

"I dismissed him rather rudely. I didn't really hear what he had to say."

"I'm sure he's used to it. When you hit people up for donations ..."

"I'd like to find him. It's important to me."

From the look on Thorn's face, it plainly was. Jennings knew he'd stumbled into something, but he didn't know what. All he could do was play it straight

"If I locate him, I'll let you know," he said.

"Would you please?"

"Of course."

Thorn nodded with finality, and Jennings rose, and walking over to Thorn, shook his hand.

"You look very worried, Mr. Ambassador. I hope the world's not about to explode."

"Oh, no," responded Thorn with a smile.

"I'm an admirer of yours. That's why I follow you around."

"Thank you."

Jennings headed for the door, but Thorn stopped him.

"Mr. Jennings?"

"Sir?"

"Let me understand . . . you've never actually seen this priest yourself?"

"No."

"You made that remark about his being at one of my speeches. I thought perhaps . . ."

"No."

"Well. No matter."

There was an uncomfortable pause, then Jennings again moved to the door.

"Any chance I could take some pictures of you? I mean at home? With your family?"

"It's not a good time right now."

"Maybe I'll call in a few weeks."

"Do that."

"You'll hear from me."

He left and Thorn gazed after him. The man clearly knew something that he wasn't divulging. But what could he possibly know about the priest? Was it mere coincidence that a man he'd had random contact with was seeking the priest who followed and haunted him? Thorn tried hard but could make no sense of it. Like so many other recent events in his life, it seemed like mere coincidence but was somehow something more.

Chapter Eight