'Madeline is dead,' he said, as if he were trying to understand it.

'Yes…' Harry whispered.

It was Sunday, January the fifteenth, nineteen seventy-three. They were in Bath, Maine.

Pio was right, Ristorante Cinese, Yu Yuan, on Via delle Quattro Fontane was a quiet place at the end of the street. At least it was quiet where he and Harry sat, at a highly lacquered back table away from the red-lanterned front door and spill of noontime customers, a pot of tea and large bottle of mineral water between them.

'You know what Semtex is, Mr Addison?'

'An explosive.'

'Cyclotrimethylene, pentaerythritol tetronitrate, and plastic. When it goes off it leaves a distinctive nitrate residue along with particles of plastique. It also tears metal into tiny pieces. It was the substance used to blow up the Assisi bus. That fact was established by technical experts early this morning and will be announced publicly this afternoon.'

The information Pio was giving him was privileged, and Harry knew it, part of what Pio had promised. But it told him little or nothing about their case against Danny. Pio was just doing what Roscani had done, giving him only enough information to keep things going.

'You know what blew up the bus. Do you know who did it?'

'No.'

'Was my brother the target?'

'We don't know. All we know for certain is that we now have two different investigations. The murder of a cardinal and the bombing of a tour bus.'

An aging Oriental waiter came up, glancing at Harry and grinning and exchanging pleasantries in Italian with Pio. Pio ordered for both by rote, and the waiter clapped his hands, bowed crisply, and left. Pio looked back to Harry.

'There are, or rather, were, five ranking Vatican prelates who serve as the pope's closest advisers. Cardinal Parma was one. Cardinal Marsciano is another…' Pio filled his glass with mineral water, watching Harry for a reaction that never came. 'Did you know your brother was Cardinal Marsciano's private secretary?'