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about?”
    â€œI’ll let him explain.” General Ferrari nodded toward the television, where the camera had found Archbishop Luigi Donati,private secretary to His Holiness Pope Paul VII. “He was wondering whether you might have a spare moment or two to speak to him.”
    â€œWhy didn’t he just call me?”
    â€œIt’s not something he wanted to discuss on the phone.”
    â€œDid he tell you what it was?”
    The general shook his head. “Only that it was a matter of the utmost importance. He was hoping you were free for lunch tomorrow.”
    â€œWhere?”
    â€œRome.”
    Gabriel made no reply.
    â€œIt’s an hour away by plane. You’ll be back in Venice in time for dinner.”
    â€œWill I?”
    â€œJudging by the archbishop’s tone of voice, I rather doubt it. He’s expecting you at one o’clock at Piperno. He says you’re
     familiar with it.”
    â€œIt rings a distant bell.”
    â€œHe’d like you to come alone. And don’t worry about your wife and children. I’ll take very good care of them during your absence.”
    â€œAbsence?” It was not the word Gabriel would have chosen to describe a daylong excursion to the Eternal City.
    The general was staring at the television again. “Look at those princes of the Church, all robed in red.”
    â€œThe color symbolizes the blood of Christ.”
    Ferrari’s good eye blinked with surprise. “How on earth did you know that?”
    â€œI’ve spent the better part of my life restoring Christian art. It’s safe to assume I know more about the history and teachings of the Church than most Catholics.”
    â€œIncluding me.” The general’s gaze returned to the screen. “Who do you suppose it will be?”
    â€œThey say Navarro is already ordering new furniture for the appartamento .”
    â€œYes,” said the general, nodding thoughtfully. “That’s what they say.”

4
Murano, Venice
    â€œPlease tell me you’re joking.”
    â€œTrust me, it wasn’t my idea.”
    â€œDo you know how much time and effort it took to arrange this trip? I had to meet with the prime minister, for heaven’s sake.”
    â€œAnd for that,” said Gabriel solemnly, “I am deeply and eternally sorry.”
    They were seated at the back of a small restaurant in Murano. Gabriel had waited until they had finished their entrées before
     telling Chiara of his plans to travel to Rome in the morning. Admittedly, his motives were selfish. The restaurant, which
     specialized in fish, was among his favorites in Venice.
    â€œIt’s just one day, Chiara.”
    â€œEven you don’t believe that.”
    â€œNo, but it was worth a try.”
    Chiara raised a wineglass toward her lips. The last of her pinot grigio burned with the pale fire of reflected candlelight.
     “Why weren’t you invited to the funeral?”
    â€œApparently, Cardinal Albanese couldn’t find a spare seat for me in the whole of St. Peter’s Square.”
    â€œHe was the one who found the body, wasn’t he?”
    â€œIn the private chapel,” said Gabriel.
    â€œDo you really think it happened that way?”
    â€œAre you suggesting the Vatican Press Office might have issued an inaccurate bollettino ?”
    â€œYou and Luigi collaborated on quite a few misleading statements over the years.”
    â€œBut our motives were always pure.”
    Chiara placed her wineglass on the bone-white tablecloth and rotated it slowly. “Why do you suppose he wants to see you?”
    â€œIt can’t be good.”
    â€œWhat did General Ferrari say?”
    â€œAs little as possible.”
    â€œHow unlike him.”
    â€œHe might have mentioned that it had something to do with the selection of the next supreme pontiff of the Roman Catholic
     Church.”
    The wineglass went still. “The