Private Rome

Chapter 78

Justine had spent far too long in the cell. She tried to keep track of time, but night had fallen and eventually she drifted off to sleep lying on an uncomfortable molded fiberglass bunk. She had woken early to the sounds of other people being moved in and out of custody. Could she hear Mo-bot or Sci being marched around police headquarters? She had no way of knowing if they were even in the same building. They’d been separated since their arrest at the mall and taken away in different vehicles.

Justine had no idea on what charge or charges she was being held. Everything had happened so quickly, and the translator had done a perfunctory job.

She had been taken to the holding cells and locked behind a steel door with nothing but a grubby fiberglass toilet and basin to keep her company. There had been a packaged sandwich for dinner, and after dawn a shrink-wrapped pastry that tasted mealy and months old. Despite her own ordeal, Justine was most worried about Jack and had spent hours worrying about whether he’d got away.

After the morning hubbub had died down and the block had settled into a calmer rhythm, Justine heard footsteps outside her cell. There was an electronic buzz and the door clicked open. A uniformed officer pulled it wide and a woman dressed in a navy blue trouser suit stepped inside.

“Ms. Smith, my name is Inspector Mia Esposito. I’m leading the investigation into the deaths of Father Arturo Brambilla and Inspector Bernardo Baggio.”

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t get up,” Justine said from her bunk. “It’s been a rough night.”

“I’m also leading the hunt for Jack Morgan.”

Justine stiffened at the inspector’s words, fearing the worst.

“You don’t happen to know where he is?”

Justine’s heart soared. So they didn’t have him.

“I don’t,” she replied. “I didn’t even know he was going to be at the mall. He must have followed us there.”

Esposito eyed her coolly.

“That’s what your attorney says,” she admitted at last. “Which is why we can’t hold you any longer.”

Justine’s mood brightened, but she didn’t show it.

“Pretty lousy move, trying to pump someone for information when they wrongly think they’re still under arrest,” she said, getting to her feet.

Esposito shrugged. “We all have to play the game to win.”

“This isn’t a game,” Justine countered, squaring up to the investigator.

They eyed each other for a moment before Esposito stood aside and allowed her to pass.

Twenty minutes later, she’d been reunited with her possessions and signed out of custody. She left the booking room and entered the busy lobby at police headquarters where she found Mo-bot, Sci and a woman in a smart gray skirt and white blouse waiting for her.

Mo-bot and Sci clustered round like a couple of surrogate parents.

“Are you okay, honey?” Mo-bot asked.

“Can you believe how they treated us?” Sci remarked.

“Ms. Smith, my name is Gianna Bianchi. I represent Private’s interests in Rome. Mr. Morgan asked me to do what I could to secure your release.”

Gianna Bianchi looked intelligent and resolved, the type of dogged lawyer who’d never give up.

“Thank you,” Justine said, shaking her hand.

“I had some help,” Gianna revealed. “Your embassy protested about your treatment, which created the right kind of pressure.”

Justine guessed she and Mo-bot had made a good impression on Emily Carter. “Any word on Jack?”

Mo-bot and Sci shook their heads.

“I’ve made arrangements for your new accommodation,” Gianna said. “There was a police operation at your former residence last night.”

Mo-bot leant in closer. “Intruder alarms were tripped, but I only saw the alerts on my phone when I was released about thirty minutes ago,” she whispered. “Someone was in the apartment. Someone who wasn’t Jack.”

“I checked with my police contacts at Ms Roth’s suggestion,” Gianna said, “and there was an explosion and two arrests made there yesterday.”

Justine’s heart sank.

“It’s not Mr. Morgan,” Gianna went on. “Apparently it was a couple of gang members found outside the building.”

“Dark Fates?” Justine asked.

Mo-bot nodded. “But no news on Jack, so we have to assume he’s okay.”

“Secure messenger?” Justine asked.

“I haven’t checked yet. Good chance we’ve picked up some additional company while we were inside. Friends listening to our calls, keyloggers checking passwords, spyware monitoring our browsing and location,” Mo-bot revealed.

It hadn’t even occurred to Justine their phones might be bugged by the police.

“We’re going to need to make a stop on our way to the new place,” Mo-bot said, before turning to Gianna. “We’re ready whenever you are. I’ve had enough of this dive.”