CHAPTER 53
The Seal-breaker contained his rage with difficulty.
“How can you not know where he is?” he demanded.
“I was monitoring the hotel,” said War. “He was initially with Pestilence, and then he was picked up by Famine.”
“And he evaded them both,” said the Seal-breaker.
“Yes, sir. A tracking device was planted in his luggage,” said War, “but he appears to have abandoned everything at the Executive.”
“Not very professional, is it,” said the Seal-breaker, “your monitoring of this high school teacher.”
“No, sir. Sorry, sir.”
The Seal-breaker rubbed his forehead and scrunched his eyes shut. Three of them on site, and Knight still walks away.
“And you think he may have left Naples?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And there is reason to assume he knows?”
“Famine could not confirm what he got from the old priest, but his presence in the Fontanelle suggests that he was looking for something. We think it at least possible that the papers the priest destroyed were decoys designed to throw Knight off the scent.”
“It’s all a bit moot now, isn’t it?” said the Seal-breaker. War had never heard him sound so irritated. “And Pestilence’s cover is blown. What sort of shape is Famine in?”
“Cuts and bruises, nothing worse.”
“I meant, mentally speaking.”
War hesitated. How was anybody supposed to put the mental state of that lunatic into words?
“He’s angry, sir,” he said. “Vengeful.”
“Good,” said the Seal-breaker. “The moment you find Knight, let Famine off the leash. Pestilence too. I’m sure she’s itching to prove her worth.”
“Yes, sir,” said War.
“And you?”
“Of course, sir.”
“Is your team ready?”
War hesitated. “Isn’t it a bit premature to bring them in, sir?”
“Not from where I’m sitting,” said the Seal-breaker. “Just make sure they are ready.”
“Yes, sir.”
“So how do you plan to locate Knight?”
“We can continue to monitor his recent haunts,” said War, “but if he has left the area we may have to take our lead from the Italian police. We are monitoring radio traffic and staking out the local railway station and airport.”
“These all sound a little desperate,” said the Seal-breaker. “And if the Italian police get to him first, that would be very bad indeed for us, would it not?”
“Yes, sir,” said War. “There is one other option, though, sir.”
“Which is?”
“Knight took Pestilence’s cell phone.”
“Is there anything he could learn from it?”
“No, it was clean.”
“Is the GPS working?”
“Yes, sir. But he doesn’t have it switched on right now. The moment he does, we’ll have him.”
“Make sure you do,” said the Seal-breaker. “I don’t need to explain to you—you of all people—the importance of ending this right away. Silencing Knight earlier would have attracted too much attention. But the decision to let him poke around at his own pace has proved . . . unsound. I don’t care which of you does it, or how, but he must be terminated immediately. Clear?”
“Clear, sir.”
So all they needed now was for Knight to make a call: any call to anyone, and they would have him. The Seal-breaker smiled to himself. It had a certain . . . what? Irony? No. Symmetry. That was it. He recalled as clearly as if it had been yesterday putting the very same model cell phone into Father Edward Knight’s hand.
“You’ll need that, where you’re going,” he had said to the priest, grinning.
And he had, in a manner of speaking. Without the phone, they would never have gotten his coordinates so precisely, would never have gotten him at all. And now his brother . . .
Cell phones, he thought, smiling wistfully. What would we do without them?