'Mr Addison, it will be another day at least, perhaps more, before the identification procedures are complete and your brother's body can be released to you… Will you be staying at the Hassler the entire time you are in Rome?'
'Yes…'
Pio took a card from his wallet and handed it to him. 'I would appreciate it if you kept me informed of your movements. If you leave the city. If you go anywhere where it would be difficult for us to reach you.'
Harry took the card and slipped it into his jacket pocket, then his eyes came back to Pio.
'You won't have any trouble finding me.'
7
Euro Night Train, Geneva to Rome.
Tuesday, July 7, 1:20 a.m.
Cardinal Nicola Marsciano sat in the dark, listening to the methodic click of the wheels as the train picked up speed, pushing southeast out of Milan toward Florence and then Rome. Outside, a faint moon touched the Italian countryside, bathing it in just enough light for him to know it was there. For a moment he thought of the Roman legions that had passed under the same moon centuries before. They were ghosts now, as one day he would be, his life, like theirs, scarcely a blip on the graph of time.
Train 311 had left Geneva at eight-twenty-five the night before, had crossed the Swiss-Italian border just after midnight, and would not arrive in Rome until eight the next morning. A long way around, considering it was only a two-hour flight between the same cities, but Marsciano had wanted time to think and to be alone without intrusion.
As a servant of God he normally wore the vestments of his office, but today he traveled in a business suit to avoid attracting attention. To that same end his private compartment in the first-class sleeping car had been reserved under the name N. Marsciano. Honest, yet simple anonymity. The compartment itself was small, but it provided what he needed: a place to sleep, if he ever could; and, more important, a moving station to receive a call on his cellular phone without fear it would somehow be intercepted.