“Stabilizing?” he groans. “My patient is on the brink of death.”

“No doubt. But there are fewer cases today than yesterday. Two days in a row with a drop. In epidemiological terms, we’re winning in Genoa. Not so in Naples. Besides, Stefano was last seen there.”

“And Byron will go with you?” Nico asks.

“I think so.”

A momentary silence falls between them. Then Nico breaks into one of those open-mouth smiles that used to make the English nurse swoon on their Angola mission. “It was good to see you, Alana. To work together again.”

“And you, Nico.” She reciprocates the grin. “We can’t let it go so long next time.”

“Yes, but we do need to give it a little time. At least I do.” Nico takes her by the shoulders and kisses her on both cheeks. “Time for me focus on the family again.”

A pang of melancholy hits her as they step apart. “I hope you can sort things out with Isabella. I really do.”

Outside, Byron doesn’t ask Alana about her conversation, but once they’re clear of the entrance, he takes her hand in his and gives it a quick squeeze.

They climb into his rental car, and he drives them to the building on Via Cairoli that houses the AISI headquarters. Sergio greets them personally outside the fourth-floor elevators and guides them past the security checkpoint and down the corridor into his office.

“Your timing is good,” he says.

“How so?” Alana asks. “Have you found Stefano?”

“No. But we did locate Brother Silvio.”

Alana’s pulse picks up. “Where is he?”

Sergio motions down the hallway. “Here.”

“Where was he?” Byron asks.

“At San Fruttuoso di Camogli,” Sergio says. “A famous monastery up the coast from Portofino. There are no roads in—the only access is by foot or by sea. One of the other brothers saw the alert online, which we added Brother Silvio to, and he tipped us off. We picked him up a few hours ago.”

“What is Silvio saying?” Alana asks.

“Not much, so far. He speaks highly of you, though. Why don’t we question him together?”

Sergio leads them inside an interview room with a table and a few chairs. A plainclothes guard stands at the door and closes it behind them. Silvio sits across a table in his usual black robe. As they enter, the monk smiles in recognition, but his face is haggard and he seems years older. “Ah, Dr. Vaughn, have you had time to finish the diary yet?”

“Not yet, Brother Silvio.”

“But you will?” he asks hopefully, as if it were the reason for their meeting now.

“I will.” She sits down between Byron and Sergio across from the monk. “Right now we have to find Brother Stefano. Urgently.”

There’s a knock at the door. The guard answers it and, after a brief verbal exchange, accepts a few sheets of paper. He closes the door and then passes the pages over to Sergio.

“That poor boy.” Silvio shakes his head. “Stefano, he suffers so with his illness.”