Portrait of a Spy

personal art consultant. I went on your annual winter cruise in the Caribbean. Then I went away.”
    “Are you a spy?” Nadia asked, but Sarah made no reply other than to extend her hand. Nadia’s journey was nearly complete. She had just one more stop to make. One last person to meet.

Chapter 29
Seraincourt, France

    S EPARATED FROM THE GRAND SALON by a pair of stately double doors was a smaller, less formal drawing room with book-lined walls and overstuffed furnishings arranged before a large stone fireplace. It was both comforting and conspiratorial, a place where kisses had been stolen, sins had been confessed, and secret alliances had been forged. Shown into the room by Sarah, Nadia had led herself on a distracted tour of the perimeter before settling at one end of a long couch. Zoe sat at the other end, as if for balance, and Sarah sat opposite, with her hands folded neatly in her lap and her gaze slightly averted. The other members of the team were scattered about in various states of repose, as if resuming the party that had been interrupted by Nadia’s arrival. The one exception was Gabriel, who was standing before the unlit fire, one hand pressed to his chin, his head tilted slightly to one side. At that instant, he was trying to decide how best to answer a simple question that had been put to him by Nadia a few seconds after he had slipped into the room. Frustrated by his silence, she posed the question again now, this time with more force.
    “Who are you?”
    Gabriel removed the hand from his chin and used it to help with the introductions. “These are the Fowlers, Thomas and Jenny. Thomas makes money. Jenny spends it. That rather melancholy girl in the corner is Emma. She and Thomas are old friends. Actually, they were lovers once, and in her darker moments, Jenny suspects they’re lovers still.” He paused for a moment to place a hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “And you remember this woman, of course. This is Sarah, our star. Sarah has more degrees than the rest of us put together. Despite a costly education, paid for in full by a guilty father, she was working at a down-at-heel art gallery in London a few years ago when your father came looking for a van Gogh, the one artist missing from his collection. He was so impressed by Sarah that he fired his longtime art consultant and offered her the job at several times her existing salary. The perks included an invitation to cruise the Caribbean aboard the Alexandra . As I recall, you were quite standoffish at first. But by the time you reached the enchanted isle of St. Barts, you and Sarah had become good friends. Confidantes, I would say.”
    Sarah acted as though she had heard none of it. Nadia examined her for a moment before turning back toward Gabriel.
    “It was no accident that these four people all ended up on St. Barts at the same time. You see, Nadia, they are all professional intelligence officers. Thomas, Jenny, and Emma are employed by the foreign intelligence service of the State of Israel, as am I. Sarah works for the CIA. Her art expertise is quite genuine, which explains why she was selected for the operation against AAB Holdings. Your father was a secret philanthropist, just like you, Nadia. Unfortunately, his charity was directed to the opposite end of the Islamic spectrum. He gave to the inciters, the recruiters, and directly to the terrorists themselves. When your father discovered the truth about Sarah, he handed her over to be tortured and killed. But then you already knew that, didn’t you, Nadia? That’s why you were so surprised to see that your friend Sarah was still very much among the living and looking none the worse for wear.”
    “You haven’t told me your name yet.”
    “For the moment, my name is not important. I prefer to think of myself as a gatherer of sparks.” He paused, then added, “Just like you, Nadia.”
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “Some of our ancient rabbis believed that when God was creating the universe, He placed His divine light into special celestial containers. But it turns out Creation didn’t go quite according to God’s plan, and an accident occurred. The vessels were broken, and the universe became filled with sparks of divine light and shards of broken vessels. The rabbis believed the task of Creation wouldn’t be complete until those sparks were gathered together. We call it Tikkun Olam, or Repair of the World. The people in this room are trying to repair the world, Nadia, and we