End of Days (Pike Logan #16)(56)
“Tell them what I just told you. We don’t know. He was supposed to be in Croatia with his mother. Type it up and send it out, expressing shock and sadness. That’ll be the end of it.”
Marco glanced out the window of the Magisterial Palace and said, “Unfortunately, no, it won’t. They don’t want a message. I have a contingent flying here right now from the United States State Department.” He looked at Garrett, and with mild sarcasm said, “Apparently, trying to kill the commander of one of their prestigious naval forces is a big deal. A message won’t cut it. I’m meeting them here in four hours.”
Garrett said, “Surely they don’t think he was involved.”
“No. They’re just exploring all avenues, and he was found dead with the passport,” Marco said. “So you don’t know what he was doing? At all?”
“Sir, he was doing what you’ve hired us for. We believe in the mission. We are the mission. Donatello wasn’t doing anything wrong. I don’t know why he was there, or what to tell you.”
Marco sat for a moment, then said, “You know, I was on board with hiring you before Syria. And I feel horrible about what happened to you. I feel responsible, which is why the Knights paid for all of your medical treatments. I’m sorry for what happened, but your existence in the Knights cannot become public. Please tell me this is not part of that.”
Garrett heard the words and wanted to explode, ripping the man’s throat out. “Feel horrible about what happened to you”? You mean feel horrible that I was protecting your mission and had my balls cut off by the very savages you were trying to help? Is that it?
He contained his fury, the only sign of stress an increase in his respiration rate. He said, “Sir, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. And I still serve. I’m the lead for the protective detail of the Grand Master for his trip to Syria. I’m still a Knight.”
Marco said, “Yes. Yes, you are. I’ll see what the U.S. knows, and then come back to you. The Grand Master trusts you for his security, and this Israeli invitation is a new one for us. Keep that in mind.”
Garrett stood and said, “Thank you, sir. I’m sorry about Donatello, but it has nothing to do with the Knights. I promise.”
Marco stood up, shook his hand, and said, “I’ll be in touch.”
Garrett went back downstairs, finding the Turtles, waiting anxiously on the results of his conversation. He said, “It’s okay. They know about Donatello, but it’s okay. I’m still the primary protective detail. I can still initiate.”
Raphael said, “That won’t matter if we don’t get to the drones. Donnie was the man for that.”
Garrett’s laptop chirped on the desk. He picked it up, scrolled a bit, then closed the cover saying, “You guys need to figure that out. I have to go. I’ve got to check on something.”
Chapter 37
Inspector Lia Vairo pulled her car into a spot adjacent to a sprawling greenspace, seeing carabinieri personnel putting up crime scene tape and managing a small crowd. She exited her vehicle and walked to the side door of the apartment complex, flashing her badge at a man there.
Agitated, he said, “You guys can’t start stringing up crime tape all over the place. It’s in a single room. You can’t make this entire building look like a murder scene.”
And she realized he was with the apartment complex. She said, “Sorry, that’s not my job. Not my jurisdiction. All I do is solve the crime.”
She went up the stairs, down the hallway, and saw Jonathan the photographer. She said, “Another one?”
He said, “I’m not sure. I’ll let Rio tell you about it.”
She entered and found the same assistant from the other crime scene bent over a body. Only now, he was on her team. She said, “What do you have, Rio? Same thing?’
He looked up at her from the body and said, “Took you a while to get here.”
She said, “Not all of us live near the EUR. Trastevere is a little longer drive.”
“Trastevere? No kidding. You got a secret international student as a boyfriend?”
She smiled, saying, “No boyfriend, just a bad divorce that left me with the flat. My ex-husband rented it out before the separation. He got everything else, I got the flat.”
He chuckled and said, “Lia Vairo from Trastevere. Never would have figured that.”
She said, “I went to see the owner of this place first, before coming over. It’s a VRBO rental, and the man who rented it is an American.”
“You have him? You know who it is?”
“No. The identification is false. It’s from an online resource that sells ‘novelty identification’ but really sells IDs that duplicate American ones, mainly for college students trying to buy drinks in bars. The owner had no way of telling what was real, and VRBO doesn’t do any background checks to see.”
Rio said, “So no help?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Because of the company’s liability for providing false identification instead of ‘novelties,’ they immediately respond to any law enforcement request, and I’m now waiting on the IP address of the guy who bought this ID. I’ll bet it came from here, in Italy, but the killer is American. I promise.”