The Order Read Free

closed the curtains in the study?”
    â€œThe curtains?”
    â€œThey were open when I left at nine. The shutters, too.”
    â€œI closed them, Excellency. I didn’t want anyone in the square to see lights burning in the apartments so late.”
    â€œYes, of course. That was wise of you, Domenico.”
    The camerlengo went out, leaving the door open. Alone with his master, Donati fought back tears. There would be time for grieving
     later. He leaned close to Lucchesi’s ear and gently squeezed the cold hand. “Speak to me, old friend,” he whispered. “Tell
     me what really happened here tonight.”

2
Jerusalem─Venice
    It was Chiara who secretly informed the prime minister that her husband was in desperate need of a holiday. Since reluctantly
     settling into the executive suite of King Saul Boulevard, he had scarcely granted himself even an afternoon off, only a few
     days of working convalescence after the bombing in Paris that had fractured two vertebrae in his lower back. Still, it was
     not something to be undertaken lightly. Gabriel required secure communications and, more important, heavy security. So, too,
     did Chiara and the twins. Irene and Raphael would soon celebrate their fourth birthday. The threat against the Allon family
     was so immense they had never once set foot outside the State of Israel.
    But where would they go? Exotic travel to a distant destination was not an option. They would have to remain reasonablyclose to Israel so Gabriel, in the all-too-likely event of a national emergency, could be back at King Saul Boulevard in a matter of hours. There was no South African safari in their future, no trip to Australia or the Galapagos. It was probably for the best; Gabriel had a troubled relationship with wild animals. Besides, the last thing Chiara wanted was to exhaust him with yet another long flight. Now that he was the director-general of the Office, he was constantly shuttling to Washington to consult with his American partners at Langley. What he needed most was rest.
    Then again, recreation did not come naturally to him. He was a man of enormous talent but few hobbies. He did not ski or snorkel,
     and he had never once wielded a golf club or a tennis racket except as a weapon. Beaches bored him unless they were cold and
     windblown. He enjoyed sailing, especially in the challenging waters off the west of England, or strapping a rucksack to his
     back and pounding across a barren moorland. Even Chiara, a retired Office field operative, was incapable of matching his breakneck
     pace for more than a mile or two. The children would surely wilt.
    The trick would be to find something for Gabriel to do while they were on holiday, a small project that might occupy him for a few hours each morning until the children were awake and dressed and ready to begin their day. And what if this project could be carried out in a city where he was already comfortable? The city where he had studied the craft of art restoration and served his apprenticeship? The city where he and Chiara had met and fallen in love? She was a native of this city, and her father served as chief rabbi to its dwindling community of Jews. Furthermore, her mother had been pestering her about bringingthe children for a visit. It would be perfect, she thought. The proverbial two birds with one stone.
    But when? August was out of the question. It was far too hot and humid, and the city would be submerged beneath a sea of package
     tourists, the selfie-snapping hordes who followed snarling guides around the city for an hour or two before gulping down an
     overpriced cappuccino at Caffè Florian and returning to their cruise ships. But if they waited until, say, November, the weather
     would be cool and clear and they would have the sestiere largely to themselves. It would give them a chance to ponder their future without the distraction of the Office or daily
     life in Israel. Gabriel had informed the