Day Of Confession

61

Rome. 6:30 a.m.

Harry walked toward the Colosseum, head down, unmindful of the rush of morning traffic passing on the Via dei Fori Imperiali beside him. At this point, motion was everything. The only way to keep from losing what small splinter of sanity he had left. Cars. Buses. Motor scooters. Roared and putted past. An entire society going about their own personal business, their thoughts and emotions focused wholly and innocently on the day before them, the same way he had every morning of his professional life until he had come to Rome. It had been as routine and comfortable as old shoes.

Up at six, exercise for an hour in the gym off his bedroom, shower, breakfast meeting with clients or potential clients, and into the office, cell phone never more than inches away, even in the shower. The same as now. Cell phone right there, in his pocket. Only it wasn't the same. None of it. The cellular phone was there, but he dared not use it. They could trace it back in an instant to whatever close-by cell site he was using, and the whole area would be filled with police before he knew it.

Suddenly he walked from bright sun to deep shade. Looking up, he saw that he stood in the shadow of the Colosseum. As quickly, his eye caught a movement in the dimness, and he stopped. A woman in a tattered dress stood watching from the base of the ancient arches. Then another like her stepped in beside her. And then a third, this one holding a baby. Gypsies.

Turning, he saw there were more. Eight or ten at least, and they were beginning to encircle him. Closing in slowly. Singly, and in twos and threes. All were women, and most had children in tow. Quickly Harry glanced back toward the street. There was no one. No groundskeepers. No tourists. No one.

Suddenly he felt a tug on his pants, and he glanced down. An old woman was lifting his pant leg, looking at his shoes. Jerking back, he stepped away from her. It did no good. Another woman was right there. Younger, grinning. Her front teeth gone. One hand held up for money, the other reaching out to caress the material of his trousers. That he seemed to be a priest made no difference. Then something brushed his back and a hand went for his wallet.

In one motion he whirled, his own hand flashing out, coming up hard with a piece of material, dragging a wildly shrieking young woman up with it. The others shrank back, frightened, uncertain what to do. All the while the woman in his grasp thrashed and wailed, screaming as if she were being murdered. Abruptly Harry pulled her close. His face inches from hers.

'Hercules,' he said, quietly, 'I want to find Hercules.'

The dwarf sat with one hand on his hip, the other holding his chin, and stared intently at Harry. It was just past noon, and they were on a bench in a small, dusty square across the Tiber in the Gianicolo section of Rome. Midday traffic rumbled past on a boulevard at the square's farthest boundary. But that was the extent of it; other than two elderly men on a bench farther down, they were alone. Except that Harry knew the Gypsies were there, somewhere, out of sight, watching.

'Because of you, the police found my tunnel. Because of you, I now live outdoors instead of in. Thank you very much.' Hercules was angry, and put out, literally.

'I'm sorry…'

'Yet here you are again. Back, I think, looking for help instead of the other way around.'

'Yes.'

Hercules deliberately looked off. 'What do you want?'

'You, to follow someone. Two people, actually. You and the Gypsies.'

Hercules looked back. 'Who?'

'A cardinal and a priest. People who know where my brother is… who will lead me to him.'

'A cardinal?'

'Yes.'

Hercules suddenly pulled a crutch under him and stood up. 'No.'

'I'll pay you.'

'With what?'

'Money.'

'How are you going to get it?'

'I have it…' Harry hesitated, then took Eaton's money from his pocket. 'How much do you want? How much for you and the Gypsies?'

Hercules looked at the money, then at Harry. 'That's more than I gave you. Where did you get it?'

'I got it – that's all… How much do you want?'

'More than that.'

'How much more?'

'You can get it?' Hercules was surprised.

'I think so…'

'If you can get so much money, why don't you ask the people giving it to you to follow the cardinal?'

'It's not that simple.'

'Why? – Can't trust them?'

'Hercules, I'm asking for your help. I'm willing to pay for it. And I know you need it…'

Hercules said nothing.

'Before, you said you could not collect the reward on me because you would have to go to the police for it… Money can help get you off the street.'

'Frankly, Mr Harry, I would just as soon not be seen with you. The police want you. The police want me. We're bad company. Twice as bad when we're together… I need you as a lawyer, not a banker. When you can do that, come back. Otherwise, arrivederci.'

Indignantly, Hercules grabbed for his other crutch. But Harry beat him to it and snatched it away.

Hercules' eyes flashed angrily. 'That's not a very good idea.'

Still, Harry held the crutch away. 'Before, you said you wanted to see what I could do. How far my wits and courage would take me. This is how far, Hercules. In a big circle, right back to you… I tried, it just didn't work…' Harry's voice softened, and he looked at Hercules for a long moment, then ever so slowly gave him back his crutch.

'I can't do it alone, Hercules… I need your help.'

Harry's last words were barely out when the cellular phone rang in his jacket pocket, its shrill intrusion startling them both.

'-Yes…' Harry answered warily, his eyes darting around the park, as if this were a trick, the police on to him.

'Adrianna!' Quickly Harry turned away, covering his free ear against the sound of the traffic on the boulevard.

Hercules swung up on his crutches, watching intently.

'Where!' Harry nodded once, then twice. '-Okay. Yes! I understand. What color? – Okay, I'll find it.'

Snapping off the phone, Harry slid it into his pocket, at the same time looking to Hercules.

'How do I get to the main railroad station?'

'Your brother-'

'He's been seen.'

'Where?' Hercules could feel the excitement.

'In the north. A town on Lake Como.'

'That's five hours by train through Milan. Too long. You would risk being-'

'I'm not going by train. Someone has a car waiting for me at the railroad station.'

'A car…'

'Yes.'

Hercules glared at him. 'So, suddenly you have other friends and don't need me.'

'I need you to tell me how to get to the station.'

'Find it yourself

Harry stared at the dwarf, incredulous. 'First you want nothing to do with me, now you're mad because I don't need you.'

Hercules said nothing.

'I will find it myself.' Abruptly Harry turned and walked off.

'Wrong way, Mr Harry!'

Harry stopped and looked back.

'You see, you do need me.'

The wind picked up Harry's hair, and dust danced past his feet. 'All right. I need you!'

'All the way to Lake Como!'

Harry glared. 'All right!'

In an instant Hercules was up and swinging toward him. Then he was past him, calling over his shoulder.

'This way, Mr Harry. This way!'