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  “After investigating, it’s pretty clear the call that sold you and His Holiness out was made from within the Vatican.”

  “That is hardly a surprise, Lord High Constable.”

  “Mmm...all things considered.”

  “Quite so.”

  Again, they studied each other. Then Talbot took a deep breath. “Anyway...the President has restored diplomatic relations with the Vatican. As diplomatic immunity now applies, you’re free to go.”

  “Very good, Lord High Constable Talbot. Thank you for your hospitality.” Alice stood.

  “Your belongings will be returned to you shortly. We’ve called Detective Rafferty to come and pick you up. He should be downstairs in a few minutes.”

  “Very well.” Alice nodded.

  Talbot led her out the door. “Once we get your belongings, I’m required to escort you downstairs.”

  *

  They rode the elevator to the main floor in silence.

  They stepped out together. Talbot’s hands were in his pockets, Alice’s bag hung in its familiar place on her elbow. Alice could feel the weight of the Tanfoglio inside it.

  They strolled across the lobby to the bank of glass doors. Outside, they stepped onto the sunken plaza and into the bright sunlight. Alice looked up at the planters that edged the top of the plaza at sidewalk level, as they walked toward the street. She could see Rafferty’s cruiser parked at the top of the plaza. He sat in the driver’s seat, watching them approach.

  She turned to Talbot. “Such a beautiful day, don’t you agree, Lord High Const—"

  The bullet struck her in the right shoulder, knocking her to the ground. The crack of the shot echoed through the plaza. Pedestrians in the plaza and on the sidewalk screamed and scattered.

  In a flash, Talbot dropped to her side, gun drawn. “Sniper!”

  Rafferty shot out of his car and into the plaza. He crouched beside Alice, his hand on her good shoulder. “Easy, Alice. We’re here.”

  “My cellphone’s upstairs. Call an ambulance,” Talbot said.

  Rafferty scanned the buildings across the street. “Where the hell did that come from?”

  “She needs an ambulance,” Talbot insisted.

  His eyes still on the buildings, Rafferty pursed his lips. “No, she doesn’t.”

  “What?” Talbot’s frantic gaze dropped to Alice’s shoulder as Rafferty scurried to the planter at the base of the steps up to the street.

  “Constable,” Alice said.

  Rafferty and Talbot both said, “What?”

  “The parking structure. Across the street. There was a muzzle flash.” She scrabbled to open her bag with her left hand.

  “Gotcha,” Rafferty said. He crept up the steps and over to the side of his car.

  Talbot stayed by Alice, his gaze on her shoulder as she fished the Tanfoglio from her bag.

  “I shall be fine, Lord High Constable. Cover Rafferty. I shall be right behind you.”

  Talbot blinked down at her and then rushed to the steps and up to Rafferty’s car.

  The two dove into the street. Tires squealed and horns blared.

  Alice rolled onto her stomach, stayed low and moved to the planter, the Tanfoglio in her left hand. Her shoulder was almost fully healed. The bullet was pushing against the lining of her jacket.

  She switched her gun to her right hand and crept up to Rafferty’s car, leaned against the back door and listened. Amidst all of the downtown Philadelphia traffic noise, there must be something. She detected the echoing roar of an engine, moving fast.

  She leapt to her feet and sprinted out from behind the car. The two constables were on the sidewalk across the street. They were braced. They’d heard it, too. Alice sprinted across the street through a break in traffic and to their sides.

  Talbot glanced at her shoulder, eyes wide. “You’re okay?”

  “Coming out of the parkade,” Rafferty shouted.

  All three turned to face the parkade exit as the revving engine grew louder.

  A brown sedan shot out of the exit and slid into the street, narrowly missing Rafferty’s cruiser. It shot ahead, weaving through traffic.

  They brought their weapons to bear on the vehicle. Alice squeezed off a shot. The rear window imploded. She was focusing on the driver when Talbot pressed his hand on the Tanfoglio, forcing it down.

  “There’s too many people around. You might hit one.”

  Alice grimaced. “Constable Rafferty, your car.”

  They hurried across the street and piled into Rafferty’s still-running cruiser. Alice took the back seat. Rafferty yanked it into drive, hit the lights and siren, and the cruiser bolted from the curb.

  From the passenger seat, Talbot pointed ahead. “They turned left at the lights.”

  Rafferty nodded and dodged the cruiser around an SUV. “I see ‘em.”

  The cruiser skidded left at the intersection and roared after the brown sedan. Traffic in front of Rafferty scrambled out of the way.

  “Right on fourth street!” Talbot shouted.

  “I’m there,” Rafferty growled.

  Alice rolled down both rear windows.

  In the left-hand lane, Rafferty cranked the wheel right. The cruiser slid through the turn. Horns blared. The cruiser rushed up the narrow, one-way street, closing on the sedan.

  “Constable, can you hold it steady?” Alice eased her torso out the rear window.

  “Alice, you can’t shoot at them. There are still too many people around,” Talbot shouted.

  “Don’t worry. I got this,” Rafferty told Alice.

  She slipped back inside and to the center of the back seat. “What are you going to do, Constable?”

  “Watch.”

  The cruiser surged ahead. As they neared the rear bumper of the brown sedan, Rafferty moved the cruiser to the left, as if to pass them. As they pulled abreast of the rear tire, Rafferty nudged the sedan with the cruiser’s bumper. The back end of the sedan shunted sideways. Instead of disengaging, Rafferty accelerated. The push turned the sedan sideways. Alice saw the panicked expression of the sedan’s driver.

  “Now, we just need those passenger side tires to catch a grip,” Rafferty yelled.

  Alice watched the driver’s side of the sedan start to lift. Abruptly, the sedan jerked upwards. Alice glimpsed the bottom of car.

  Rafferty slammed on the brakes and the cruiser screeched to a halt as the brown sedan rolled violently over and over. It came to rest on its roof, fifty feet ahead of them.

  “Sure hope those guys had their seatbelts on,” Talbot said.

  *

  The doorbell sounded just after Alice and the Raffertys finished dinner. Geri and the girls were loading the dishwasher and she looked over her shoulder at her husband. “Was Rachel coming over, tonight?”

  Rafferty shrugged. “Not that I remember.”

  “Maybe she just decided to drop by.” Geri ambled out of the kitchen toward the front door. Alice heard it open.

  “Good evening. You must be Mrs. Rafferty. I’m looking for Alice Fisher. Is she here?”

  Alice glanced at Rafferty as she stood and rushed into the living room. “Lord High Constable,” she said as Talbot came into view. “Please, come in.”

  Geri stepped to the side as Talbot entered, a slim folder in his hand.

  Alice nodded at the folder. “Is this an official visit?”

  Talbot glanced down at the folder and chuckled. “I’m sorry, no, it’s not official. Just something I wanted to talk to you about.”

  Rafferty stuck his head into the living room. “We just put coffee on if you wanna join us. Course, I don’t know if our coffee is good enough for you FBI-types.” He smirked at Talbot.

  Talbot smirked back. “I guess I’ll just have to slum it, tonight, Detective.”

  Geri made her way back to the kitchen. “Girls? Do you want to go play outside for a while?”

  Christine and Susie nodded vigorously.

  “Just stay in the back yard, okay?” Geri calle
d after the two of them as they scrambled for the sliding door.

  Geri returned to loading the last of the dishes into the dishwasher. Rafferty got four cups out of the cupboard. Alice and Talbot settled into chairs at the kitchen table.

  “Anything come from those two perps in the car?” Rafferty asked.

  Talbot shook his head. “Nope. As soon as they could, they played the diplomatic immunity card. They’re already on a plane back to Italy.”

  “That sucks,” Rafferty said as he set four cups of coffee on the table beside the cream and sugar.

  “At least we know where they came from,” Talbot said.

  “As if there were any doubt,” Alice pulled a cup toward her and slid another toward Talbot. “You wanted to talk to me about something, Lord High Constable?”

  Talbot looked uncomfortable and glanced at Geri and Rafferty.

  “I assure you, I have no secrets from either Geraldine or Constable Rafferty, Lord High Constable. You may speak freely.”

  Talbot took a deep breath. “Okay, Sister. I don’t know that anyone else would notice this, but I thought I’d point it out and let you decide what to do with it.”

  “Very well.” Alice sipped her coffee.

  “When we had you in custody, one of the things my team did was inventory your belongings and photocopy all your documents—passport, driver’s license and all that. We also obtained a copy of the Philadelphia PD file.”

  Alice nodded.

  Geri started the dishwasher running and pulled up a seat at the table. “That’d pretty much be standard procedure, wouldn’t it?” she asked.

  Talbot nodded. “Exactly. I have to admit, I didn’t look at them until this afternoon, after you had been released.” He slid a paper out of the file in front of him and laid it on the table in front of Alice. “So, your passport.” He pointed to the corner of the photocopied image. “Your signature.”

  Alice leaned forward and peered at the photocopy. “Quite correct.”

  Talbot placed a second photocopy on top of the first, leaving Alice’s signature exposed. “Your driver’s license—also with your signature.”

  “And the waiver you signed the night Philadelphia PD arrested you.” Talbot tapped her signature. “That’s the most important one. It’s the most recent.”

  Alice looked at the matching signatures. “Yes, those are my signatures. I’m not sure I understand, Lord High Constable.”

  “I’ll get to that in a second. Your signature is very distinctive. Notice the back sweep on the ‘A’ in ‘Alice’ and the ‘F’ in ‘Fisher’? There’s also a significant up sweep at the end of the ‘R’ in ‘Fisher’.”

  Alice sat back. “The result of so many lessons in penmanship, I suppose.”

  Talbot watched her carefully as he pulled another photocopy from the folder. “We also found this photograph in a hidden compartment in your bag.”

  He laid the photocopy down, still leaving her signatures exposed. It was the same photograph as the one on Rachel’s office wall. Four large soldiers with one very small nun. “Can you get that photograph for me?”

  Alice furrowed her brow. “Certainly. Just a moment.”

  Alice got the photo from her handbag and laid it on the table.

  Talbot reached and turned the photo over, exposing the signatures on the back. One of them was Alice’s.

  Alice stared at him. “So, my signature is on the back of a photograph and it matches the signatures on my passport and driver’s license. I still don’t understand.”

  Talbot continued to watch her. “Can you read me the other signatures, please?

  Alice’s eyes went wide. “The other signatures?”

  Talbot nodded.

  Alice peered at the back of the photo. “R. Silverthorne, K. Boreen, Eddie Marsh, and George—” Alice stiffened and looked from Rafferty to Geri and back to the Lord High Constable. “Talbot,” she finished.

  The whirring and clunking of the dishwasher momentarily dominated the conversation. None of them moved.

  Alice realized she’d been holding her breath and let it out. She glanced at her signature on the back of her photo, beside the signature of George Talbot.

  “So what?” Rafferty said. “You gonna arrest her because some guy signed the back of a picture with the same last name as you? There’s lots of people with the last name ‘Talbot’.”

  Talbot held up his hands. “Easy. I’m not here to arrest anyone.”

  “Why are you here, then?” Geri asked.

  Talbot shrugged. “Wouldn’t take much, if someone got curious, to date that photo and the signature. It could raise serious questions, especially with your current signature matching the one on the photo. After what I witnessed earlier today, with your shoulder, I have no doubt. You are the nun in that photo.”

  Rafferty gaped. “Oh, come on, Talbot! That picture’s from World War One!” He held his hand out to Alice. “You’re talking crazy.”

  Talbot stared at Alice as she looked up at him. Slowly, a look of resignation on his face, he reached into the folder and gently laid a matching photo beside Alice’s copy. The only difference was a coffee ring on the bottom right-hand corner of Talbot’s.

  Alice’s gaze flicked from the matching photo to Talbot.

  “Turn it over,” he murmured.

  “No need,” Alice said. “We all signed them.”

  Geri and Rafferty gasped. Talbot nodded gravely.

  “Was George your grandfather?” Alice asked.

  He shook his head. “He is my great-grandfather, actually.”

  Alice glared at him. “Is?”

  Rafferty sat forward. “He’s still alive? He must be—”

  “Just had his one hundred and twenty-second birthday,” Talbot said.

  Geri’s eyes went wide. “A hundred and twenty-two? Wow! What’s his quality of life?”

  “Well, he won’t be winning any fifty-yard dashes, but he’s...spry, for his age.”

  Excitement coursing through Alice’s veins. “Does he live nearby? Could I visit him?”

  Talbot smiled. “Funny you should mention that.”

  The doorbell rang.

  “Mind if I get that?” Talbot stood and moved into the living room. Geri and Rafferty followed him.

  Alice’s heart swelled. She sat frozen in her chair and listened to the door open.

  “Grampa George!” Talbot enthused. “Come in. There’s someone here who wants to talk to you.”

  Alice heard shuffling.

  “Easy, Grampa. You don’t want to fall,” Talbot said.

  A quavering, high-pitched voice said, “I know, I know. I’m not an idjit, y’know.”

  “Mr. Talbot, I’m Geri Rafferty. This is my husband, Martin.” Geri’s voice was warm and welcoming.

  Grampa George grunted. “Don’t actually remember either one of ya, so, nice ta meetcha and all that. But you call me ‘George’, huh?”

  “I’m pretty sure it’s not us you’re here to see, George. Alice?” Geri raised her voice.

  “Don’t know no ‘Alice’,” George said in his quavery voice.

  Alice took a deep breath, stood and moved into the living room, her hands clasped in front of her. Her heart pounded and a lump constricted her throat.

  The stooped, shriveled, old man turned his head. Their gazes locked. George’s jaw slackened. From across the room, Alice could see his tears welling .

  “Holy Christ in a manger.” His voice was shaky.

  Alice squeezed her hands together. “George.” Her voice cracked. She cleared her throat. “We have spoken many times, you and I, about that.”

  “Sister...” he swallowed, the words seemed stuck in his throat. “Sister Jacobine?”

  Alice stepped forward and held out her hands. He was still taller than her despite his pronounced stoop. His gnarled hands gently slid into hers, their gazes still locked together. “I cannot believe you still curse like that,” Alice whispered and kissed him on the cheek.

  George’s tea
rs flowed freely. His shaky hands slid up her arms to her shoulders, then around her back as he cradled her to his chest.

  Alice closed her eyes as she and George clung to each other. She couldn’t have let go of him if she tried.

  A chair scraped over the kitchen floor.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Rafferty said from the kitchen. “What happened with that video file?”

  “Don’t know,” Talbot said, also from the kitchen. “They suddenly couldn’t find it. Must’ve been deleted.”

  Alice and George separated, although his hands drew down her arms to clasp her hands again.

  “Come, George. Let us sit and talk of old friends.” Alice guided him to the couch and took a seat right next to him, their hands held tightly together.

  “There’s still coffee left, if you’d like some, George,” Geri said, her voice almost as thick as theirs.

  George tugged a handkerchief from his pocket, wiped his eyes and blew his nose. “If I have coffee this late, I’ll be up ‘til reveille.” He looked at Alice, held her gaze and said, “Got any Irish Whiskey?”

  “Grampa George—your medication doesn’t mix with that.”

  “Hush, boy,” George said. “Some things is more important.”

  “Maybe just one,” Alice said and glanced at Geri. “I put a bottle of Old Bushmills in the liquor cabinet a few days ago.”

  “Coming right up,” Geri said.

  Rafferty peered at George’s old photo. “Which one is him?”

  Talbot leaned forward and pointed. “He’s the only one left. All four of them lived extraordinarily long lives. Must have been something in the water at that field hospital.”

  Rafferty glanced at Alice. “Yeah, must’ve been.”

  “His son,” Talbot said, “my grandfather, wasn’t born until fifteen years after George got back from the war. If she hadn’t did what she did back then, killing those enemy soldiers, I wouldn’t be here today.”

  All of them jumped when Alice’s cellphone rang. Alice leapt up from the couch and got the phone out of her bag. She looked at the screen before swiping to answer the call. “Your Holiness. How nice to hear from you.”

  “My dear Alice,” Roberto said with his thick, Italian accent. “It breaks my heart to make this call.”

  Alice stiffened. “What is it, Roberto?”