The Quest: A Novel

difference does it make?”
    “That was my point.” He lay down beside her and asked, “Do you believe that the actual Holy Grail is sitting in a black monastery in Ethiopia?”
    “I told you I believe what Father Armano said to us. I believe thatGod led us to him, and him to us.” She also told him, “I believe that if we find the Grail, and if we believe in it, it will reveal itself to us. If we do not believe in it, it will not be real to us.” She made him understand, “It’s not the Grail by itself—it is our faith that heals us.”
    This sounded to Purcell almost as complex as the doctrine of the Trinity, but he understood what she was saying. “All right… but do you believe that we should risk our lives to find it?”
    She stayed silent a moment, then replied, “If this is God’s will… then it doesn’t matter what happens to us—it only matters that we try.”
    Purcell glanced at her. He wondered if Mercado had told her what he’d said to him.
    She asked, “Do you believe in this, Frank?”
    “Henry says I do.”
    “And you say…?”
    “Depends on the day.”
    “Then you shouldn’t be going to Ethiopia.”
    “I am going.”
    “Go for the right reasons.”
    “Right.”
    She moved closer to him and said, “There is another miracle. Us.”
    “That’s one I believe in.” He asked her, “Would you like breakfast in bed?”
    “It’s early for breakfast.”
    “It’s two hours to get room service. You’re not in Switzerland anymore.”
    She laughed and said, “I want you to fill the tub and make love to me in the water. That’s what I wanted you to do at the spa.”
    “I didn’t know that.”
    “You did.”
    “Never crossed my mind.”
    “Do you think I take my clothes off in front of any man I just met?”
    In fact, he’d thought that she and Henry were just being worldly and sophisticated, and maybe trying to shock his American sensibilities.
    “Frank?”
    “I thought that was a rhetorical question.” He got out of bed. “I’ll run the water. You call for coffee.”
    He filled the tub and she came into the bathroom and they got into the steamy water together, facing each other. They moved closer, embraced, and kissed. She pressed her breasts against his chest, then rose up and came down on his erect penis. She gyrated her pelvis as she clung to him in the warm water, and they climaxed together.
    They sat at opposite ends of the tub, and Vivian lay back with her eyes closed, breathing in the misty air.
    He thought she’d fallen asleep, but she said softly, “It doesn’t matter what happens, as long as it happens to us together.”
    “I believe that… but I want to make sure we’re not choosing death over life.”
    “We are choosing eternal life.” She added, “As Saint Peter did.”
    “Right… but I’m not a martyr, and neither are you. We’re journalists.”
    She laughed. “Journalists go to hell.”
    “Probably… and we’re not saints either, Vivian.”
    “Speak for yourself.”
    They sat back in the water with their eyes closed, and Purcell drifted off into a pleasant sleep. He thought he heard Vivian saying, “Take this cup and drink of it, for this is my blood.”
    “Frank?”
    He opened his eyes.
    Vivian stood over him in a robe, holding a cup. “Have some coffee.”
    He took the cup and drank it.

Chapter 26
    T he Hassler Hotel sat high above the Spanish Steps, offering a panoramic view of Rome and the Vatican. It was Saturday, and the elegant rooftop restaurant was filled with well-heeled tourists, businesspeople, and celeb types, but Mercado had gotten them a choice table by the window.
    Purcell had no doubt that Signore Mercado used his connection to
L’Osservatore Romano
all over town. No one actually
read
the paper, of course, but it was widely quoted over the wire, and its name had cachet, especially in Rome.
    Henry Mercado and Colonel Sir Edmund Gann had arrived together from the Excelsior, and Gann, thin to begin with, looked like a man who’d been on starvation rations for a few months, which he had, and he hadn’t put on any weight in London. His tweed suit hung loosely and his skin had a prison pallor. As Purcell knew from firsthand experience, it took awhile before the body got used to food again.
    Gann’s eyes, however, were bright and alert, and his demeanor hadn’t changed much. His mind had stayed healthy in prison, and his body just needed a few Italian meals. Then back to Ethiopia for another round with fate.