Prince of Fire

for a time on the Via Trieste, then flagged down a taxi and asked the driver to take him to the Piazza di Spagna. Entering the safe flat he saw a copy of that morning’s La Repubblica newspaper lying on the floor of the entrance hall. On page six was a large advertisement for an Italian sports car. Gabriel looked at the ad carefully and saw that it had been cut from another edition of the newspaper and glued over the corresponding page. He trimmed away the edges of the page and discovered, hidden between the two pages, a sheet of paper containing the coded text of the message. After reading it he burned it in the kitchen sink and went out again.
    On the Via Condotti he bought a new suitcase and spent the next hour purchasing clothing appropriate to his next destination. He returned to the safe flat long enough to pack his new bag, then went to lunch at Nino on the Via Borgognona. At two o’clock he took a taxi to Fiumicino Airport, and at five-thirty he boarded a flight to Sardinia.
    A S G ABRIEL ’ S PLANE was taxiing toward the runway, Amira Assaf rolled up to the front gate of the Stratford Clinic and showed her ID badge to the security guard. He inspected it carefully, then waved her onto the grounds. She twisted the throttle of her motorbike and sped down the quarter-mile gravel drive toward the mansion. Dr. Avery was just leaving for the night, racing toward the gate in his big silver Jaguar. Amira tapped her horn and waved, but he ignored her and swept past in a shower of dust and gravel.
    Staff parking was in the rear courtyard. She propped the bike on its kickstand, then removed her backpack from the seat storage compartment and left her helmet in its place. Two girls were just coming off duty. Amira bid them good night, then used her badge to unlock the secure staff entrance. The time clock was mounted to the wall of the foyer. She found her card, third slot from the bottom, and punched in: 5:56 P . M .
    The locker room was a few paces down the hall. Amira went inside and changed into her uniform: white trousers, white shoes, and a peach-colored tunic that Dr. Avery believed was soothing to the patients. Five minutes later she reported for duty at the window of the head nurse’s station. Ginger Hall, peroxide blond and crimson-lipped, looked up and smiled.
    “New haircut, Amira? Very fetching. My goodness, what I wouldn’t do for that thick raven hair of yours.”
    “You can have it, along with the brown skin, the black eyes, and all the other shit that comes with it.”
    “Ah, rubbish, petal. We’re all nurses here. Just doing our job and trying to make a decent living.”
    “Maybe, but out there it’s different. What have you got for me?”
    “Lee Martinson. She’s in the solarium. Get her back up to her room. Settle her in for the night.”
    “That big bloke still hanging round her?”
    “The bodyguard? Still here. Dr. Avery reckons he’ll be here awhile.”
    “Why would a woman like Miss Martinson need a bodyguard?”
    “Confidential, my sweet. Highly confidential.”
    Amira set off down the corridor. A moment later she came to the entrance of the solarium. As she went inside the humidity greeted her like a wet blanket. Miss Martinson was in her wheelchair, staring at the blackened windows. The bodyguard, hearing Amira’s approach, got to his feet. He was a large, heavily built man in his twenties, with short hair and blue eyes. He spoke with a British accent, but Amira doubted he was truly British. She looked down at Miss Martinson.
    “It’s getting late, sweetheart. Time to go upstairs and get ready for bed.”
    She pushed the wheelchair out of the solarium, then along the corridor to the elevators. The bodyguard pressed the call button. A moment later they boarded a lift and rode silently upward to her room on the fourth floor. Before entering, Amira paused and looked at the guard.
    “I’m going to bathe her. Why don’t you wait out here until I’m finished?”
    “Wherever she goes, I go.”
    “We do this every night. The poor woman deserves a bit of privacy.”
    “Wherever she goes, I go,” he repeated.
    Amira shook her head and wheeled Miss Martinson into her room, the bodyguard trailing silently after her.

17

B OSA , S ARDINIA
    F OR TWO DAYS G ABRIEL WAITED FOR THEM TO make contact. The hotel, small and ochre-colored, stood in the ancient port near the spot where the river Temo flowed into the sea. His room was on the top floor and had a small balcony with an iron