“Aside from Brother Silvio and his vigil at the construction site?” He rubs his eyes. “No. No one else comes to mind.”

Alana clears her throat. “Don Arturo, have you left Genoa in the past week or so?”

If the abbot is insulted by the insinuation, he doesn’t show it. “No, Dr. Vaughn. I have not left in years. Too long, in fact.”

“And there’s no other direction you can point me? Anyone who might be remotely connected?”

“It hurts me to even consider that this plague might have originated from inside San Giovanni. But if it did, then it must have happened by accident.” Arturo rises to his feet. “I wish I could be of more help, Dr. Vaughn.”

Deflated, she rises to join him. As an afterthought, she reaches for her phone and clicks on the photo that Sergio had forwarded to her. She turns it around to show him. “Do you know this man?”

Recognition flashes across his face.

Her mouth goes dry. “You do know him!”

“Yes. He is—he was—a brother at the monastery.”

Adrenaline washes over her. “Who is he?”

“Brother Stefano,” Arturo says, grimacing as he conjures a surname. “Stefano Russo.”

“How long has Brother Stefano been at San Giovanni?” she demands.

“Six or seven years, perhaps. Stefano came to us as a young novice.”

“Describe him,” she says, struggling to contain her urgency.

“Stefano? He is most shy. Quiet as a mouse. Very hardworking, very studious. A good boy.”

“Nothing else about him?” she presses.

“He’s a simple and dedicated monk. A timid young man.” Arturo shakes his head. “Where does this photo come from?”

“A colleague sent it to me.”

He folds his hands on his chest. “I simply cannot imagine Stefano being involved in any of this.”

Alana resists the urge to grab Arturo and shake him by the shoulders. “Where can I find Brother Stefano?” she asks as calmly as she can.

Chapter

Fifty-Three

The freighter cast off two days earlier at exactly six p.m. Before this voyage, Stefano had never been aboard a vessel larger than a ferry, and he has never been on the open sea before. He wondered if seasickness would be an issue, but so far he has experienced only slight queasiness.

It was more difficult to land a berth on the cargo ship than he had assumed. The first four shipping companies turned him down out of hand. Others viewed him with bewilderment. Apparently almost all the unskilled laborers working on freighters came from developing countries. The man at the head office of Napoli Marittima told him the only reason he had offered Stefano the job aboard the Cielo di Asia was because one of the workers had broken his leg in a forklift accident that very morning.

In the end, Stefano couldn’t have planned it better. The Cielo di Asia is on its way to Singapore and, after, will sail to Hong Kong to unload the rest of its cargo. Each port will make a perfect destination for his special cargo.