Part 27 (1/2)

Absently, she crossed herself. This was more of G.o.d's testing. But this time it wasn't about men or l.u.s.t but about her own courage, her ability to persist under the most unbearable of situations while at the same time remaining strong and true to the patient in her charge.

”Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,” she said under her breath. ”I will fear no-”

”Sister Elena-”Salvatore's voice suddenly echoed out of nowhere.

Elena started. Harry froze where he was, oars out of the water, the skiff drifting forward.

”Salvatore,” Elena whispered.

”Sister Elena-” Salvatore's voice came again. ”It's all right,” he called in Italian. ”I have the boat. Whoever was here is gone.”

The white of Elena's eyes flashed in the dark as she turned toward Harry, translating what Salvatore had said.

”Sister Elena, where are you?”

Instantly Harry pulled in the oars, then grabbed at the pa.s.sing wall of rock, slowing the skiff by hand. Stopping it. Then they heard the distant whine and rumble of motors. The boat and whoever was in it was coming up the channel toward them.

84.

THOMAS KIND HELD THE EDGE OF THE RAZOR against Salvatore's throat as the motorboat moved slowly forward, the sound of the outboards echoing off the cavern walls. Behind them, Marta lay on the deck between the c.o.c.kpit and the motors, blood still oozing from a tiny hole between her eyes.

Salvatore turned slightly to look at Thomas Kind. The right side of the blond man's face was raked with blood and torn skin where Marta had clawed him when he'd caught them, just as they'd reached the elevator cage. The fight had been short and quick. But she had done damage, and for that alone Salvatore Belsito was extraordinarily proud.

Yet Salvatore was not like his wife. Did not have her bravery or rage. It had been difficult enough for him to do what he had in lying to the police when they had twice invaded Villa Lorenzi. Difficult enough just to come to the grotto to care for the fugitive priest while the nun went in search of his brother. Salvatore Belsito was Villa Lorenzi's chief gardener, a gentle man who loved his wife and only cared about making things grow. Eros Barbu had given them both a home and jobs for as long as they cared to have them. For that he owed him a great deal. But not his life.

”Once more,” Thomas Kind urged.

Salvatore hesitated, then again called out Elena's name.

THE STAB OF SALVATORE'S CALL resounded off the granite walls like a sound effect in a suspense movie. It was much louder, and much closer than before. Abruptly it was overridden by the throaty rumble of the outboards as the motorboat picked up speed.

”Go right!” Elena said behind Harry, the slim beam of her light following the marks on the stone walls as they reached an abrupt angle where the tunnel veered sharply right, nearly turning back on itself.

Harry pulled hard on the right oar, cutting the corner tightly. As he did, the left oar caught on the cavern wall and was nearly jerked out of his hand. Cursing under his breath, he recovered, felt the left oar touch water, and they were around.

Putting his back to it, he dug in with everything he had. The skin was raw on his hands, and the sweat ran down his forehead, stinging his eyes. He wished he could stop even for a moment to tear off the clerical collar. Throw it away so he could breathe.

”Sister Elena!!!!!!!”

Salvatore's cry came again in a rolling echo that followed them down the channel like a pursuing wave.

Suddenly a blinding light illuminated the entire waterway where they had just been like day. Harry could see the shadow of wall they had just come around and guessed they had ten seconds at most before the motorboat came around it too and entered the channel where they were.

Looking around wildly, he saw a ca.n.a.l in front of them that ran straight for almost twenty yards before cutting smartly to the left. There was little or no chance they would make it before the motorboat was around the corner and on top of them. Nor, despite some rugged outcropping of rock that fed into the channel, was there a place to hide.

”Mr. Addison! Look there!” Elena whispered. She was suddenly leaning forward, pointing off.

Ahead, to their left and a dozen yards away, Harry saw what she was pointing at. A dark shadow that might be the entrance to a cave or inlet. Three or four feet high at best, and not much wider. Just big enough-maybe-for the skiff to get through.

Behind them, the growl of the outboards suddenly rose. Harry looked back. The light was getting brighter. Whoever was at the controls was picking up the speed. Throwing his full body weight behind the oars, Harry drove toward the cave.

”We're going in!” Harry said over his shoulder at Elena. ”Climb past me. Make sure his head doesn't hit.”

Harry stopped rowing for the briefest second, feeling the brush of Elena's habit as she scrambled over him. Then he dug in again. As he did, the right oar twisted in his hands and came out of the water. The skiff swung sharply left. There was a metallic sc.r.a.pe as it hit the wall, then glanced off and back into the channel. Recovering, he pulled back toward the cave opening.

At the same time, he saw Elena look up to see the sleek prow of the motorboat slide past the outcrop of rock and turn into the channel where they were. Instantly, the powerful beam of the searchlight came around, sweeping mercilessly toward them as the boat turned fully into the waterway.

Harry glanced over his shoulder. They were right at the cave.

”Get down!” he said.

Crouching over, Harry jerked the oars inboard and the prow of the skiff slid into the opening, ceiling and sides clearing by only inches. Then he saw Elena duck, her hand on Danny's head. The stern slid through and they were inside.

Instantly, Harry was on his back. Grabbing the rock ceiling above them, pulling the skiff forward, hand over hand. Deeper into the cave. A heartbeat later the harsh beam of the searchlight swept past.

Abruptly the outboards throttled down. A half second later he saw the motorboat glide by. A blond man with a stark profile stood in silhouette to the far wall, one hand on the wheel, the other up tight under the throat of Salvatore Belsito. Then they were gone, the light trailing off with them, the boat's wake was.h.i.+ng into the cave.

Immediately Harry put his hands out to the walls on either side to keep the skiff from banging off them. His heart pounding, he raised himself up and listened. One second. Then two. Then he heard the outboards stop. A moment later the wash subsided and everything was silent.

85.

THOMAS KIND LET THE BOAT SWING IN A slow arc, bringing it around, letting it come to a stop facing the way they had come, his eyes searching the cavern in front of him-the glistening walls with their jagged outcroppings, the deep green-black water reflecting the illumination from the searchlight in a thousand different directions.

”Sit down...” Slowly he eased the razor from Salvatore's throat and nodded toward the bench along the gunwale behind him. The look in his captor's eyes was all the warning the Italian needed, and he did what he was told. Then he crossed his arms and tilted his head toward the irregular ceiling of the cave, letting his gaze fix there, fix anywhere but at the body of his wife at his feet, the body he had put there after Kind had made him carry it from where he had killed her, at the entrance to the elevator.

Thomas Kind glanced back at Salvatore, then reached into his jacket. From it he took a slender, black nylon pouch. Opening it, he took out a small electronic headset. Putting it on, adjusting the earpieces, he clipped a tiny microphone to his jacket collar and plugged the lead wire into a packet at his waist. There was the faintest click, and a tiny red glow rose from the monitor light beneath his fingers. His thumb ran over the volume control, and the sound came up immediately. Everything was amplified. The echo of the tunnel, the crisp lap of water against its walls. Listening intently, he swung the microphone slowly and deliberately across the ca.n.a.l. Wall left to wall right.

He heard nothing.

He panned back. Wall right to wall left.

Still nothing.

Leaning forward, he turned off the searchlight, and the cavern went dark. Then he waited. Twenty seconds. Thirty. A minute.

Again, he swung the microphone. Left to right. And then back. And then back again.

”...wait...