Day Of Confession

137

A pickup truck rattled past carrying firewood. Then the street was dark again, and Harry and Hercules stepped from the angle in the Vatican wall they had hidden behind.

'You know what that wood is for, Mr Harry?' Hercules whispered. 'Pizza ovens all over the city. Pizza.' He winked. 'Pizza.' Abruptly he gave Harry his crutches and turned to the wall. 'Boost me up.'

With a glance back down the street, Harry picked Hercules up by the waist and lifted him toward a ledge that ran the length of the wall halfway up. Hercules strained to reach it, then did. In an instant he was up and balancing on it.

'Crutches first. Then the rope.'

Crutches handed overhead, Harry tossed the coil of rope. Grabbing it, Hercules shook out a few feet, put a loop around his shoulder and dropped the free end to Harry.

Taking hold, Harry felt it tighten. Above him, Hercules smiled, then waved him up. Ten seconds later Harry had walked up the wall and stood on the ledge beside him.

'No legs, Mr Harry, but the rest of me like granite, eh?'

'I think you like this.' Harry half grinned.

'We are in search of the truth. And no goal is more honorable, is it, Mr Harry?' Hercules' eyes bore into Harry's, the pain of a lifetime in them. Then, as quickly, he looked to the top of the wall.

'Another boost, Mr Harry. This time is trickier. Lean your back to the wall and keep your balance or we both go down.'

Putting his back against the wall, Harry dug his heels into the narrow stone ledge.

'Go,' Harry whispered. Immediately he felt Hercules' hands on his shoulders, felt him pull up. Then the rope coil brushed across his chest, and Hercules' deadened feet banged over his face, then his weight vanished. Quickly Harry looked up. Hercules was kneeling on top of the wall.

'Crutches,' he said.

'How's it look?' Harry handed them up.

One arm tucked through his crutches, Hercules peered over the side and into the Vatican gardens. The tower loomed behind some trees, not thirty yards away. Turning, he gave Harry the thumbs up.

'Good luck.'

'See you inside.' Hercules winked.

Then Harry saw him twist a turn of rope over a jutting corner of the wall, jab his arm through the crutches and disappear over the top.

For the briefest second Harry hesitated, then with a look back down the street, he jumped. Hitting the ground, he rolled over once and was up. Brushing off his jacket, tugging the black beret over his forehead, he walked quickly back down Viale Vaticano, the way he had come. Scala's Calico automatic was in his belt, Adrianna's cell phone in his pocket. Ahead of him, the buildings were stark black against the eerie pale of the brightening sky.