Delusion in Death (In Death #35)(65)

“Tending to me now?”

“You look tired.”

Eve stood for a moment, hands in pockets. “I was thinking you look even more dead than usual.”

That got the slightest ghost of a smile as the cat rubbed against his legs. “The day’s been long.”

So they should get to it, Eve decided, and sat on a plush ottoman as rich as rubies. “Guiseppi Menzini. What do you know?”

“Born in Rome, 1988, the son of a defrocked priest and one of his faithful. My information indicates Salvador Menzini’s literal interpretation of the Bible meant women were to bear children in pain and blood. Guiseppi’s mother died a few weeks after his birth from complications in childbirth, attended only by Salvador.”

“Rough start.”

“Indeed. Thank you,” Summerset said when Roarke handed him a glass of wine. “Salvador raised the boy alone, educated him. They traveled across Europe, Salvador preaching. He may have fathered more children as part of his doctrine held that man was obligated to populate the Earth, and women were created to subjugate themselves to a man’s will, his needs, his desires. There was no rape in Salvador’s teachings as he claimed it was a man’s God-given right to take any women he pleased, over the age of fourteen.”

“Handy for him.”

“The law, however, disagrees. He was arrested in London for sexual assault. Guiseppi would have been twelve, if records are correct.”

“Close enough,” Eve told him.

“The boy evaded child protection. One of Salvador’s wealthy followers posted his bail and he went into hiding. There isn’t much information on either of them for the next several years, but the Red Horse cult was born during that period, or at least the seeds of it were planted. In 2012 Salvador was shot and killed by the father of a fifteen-year-old girl during an attempted abduction.”

“And the son?” Eve prompted.

“He came to the attention of the CIA, MI6 and various other covert organizations two years later. He had an aptitude for chemistry.”

Eve looked into her wine, thought: Click. “I bet he did.”

“It’s believed he must have studied under an assumed name, but I can’t find any confirmation. Between 2012 and 2016, and the dawn of the Urban Wars in Europe, he developed biological weapons for various terrorists groups. He had no particular allegiance, even to Red Horse, though it’s believed he stood as leader of a faction of that group. He had fortifications in at least three locations in England, Italy, and France.”

“Not here?” Eve interrupted. “Not in the U.S.?”

“Nothing on record, no. He enjoyed Europe, and preferred cities over the country, as had his father. While the Urban Wars raged and spread, he supplied the highest bidder with munitions, explosives, and his specialty—bioweapons.

“He had no children on record,” Summerset continued, “but witness reports—including those of recovered children his sect and others abducted, state he had many—though it’s not verified if they were biological offspring, or abductees he’d taken as his own. There were others like him, and others with more followers, more power. He wasn’t considered a top priority, though there were attempts to capture or assassinate. Again, according to reports—reports that were and are carefully buried, one of the assassination attempts resulted in the deaths of five children. Two months after that, the café outside of London was attacked. He became a top priority.”

“Sometimes late’s as bad as never.”

Summerset studied Eve as he sipped his wine. “To say the world was in disarray is the least of it. Looting, burning, bombing, indiscriminate killings, rapes. At first it seemed the police and the military would quell it, all would right again. People locked themselves in their homes or fled to the countryside to wait it out. But they didn’t quell it, and it didn’t right again, not for a very long time. It became a tidal wave of rage and violence that wouldn’t be stopped.”

Summerset paused a moment, sipped his wine. “I’m told he was a small man—a gnat as it were—compared to others who sought to destroy.”

“Gnats need to be swatted.”

“I agree, but there were so many more, so much more organized. There are always those who wait and plan for just such a thing. There were armies that attacked strategically—military bases, communications, food and water supplies—much more so than Menzini or other Red Horse sects. They thought they would win, but in the end, they too were engulfed in that wave. What you’ve seen these last two days? Imagine it everywhere, the bodies and blood, the waste, the fear and panic. The law broke under it. There weren’t many like you who stood between the guilty and the innocent—and neither were easy to recognize for a time. For too long a time. You’re too young, both of you, to have known it. Be grateful.”

“I know some who stood, like you. They rarely, if ever, talk about it.”

“There aren’t words.” He looked thinner, if possible, as he spoke, Eve thought. Paler. Bad memories, she knew, could carve you out.

“What they teach, what they wrote? It’s pale and soft compared to the reality of it. What you’ve seen the last two days? There are some of us who were there at the beginning of it, those of us who remember. I remember,” he murmured, “and I’m afraid.”