Senescence (Jezebel's Ladder Book 5) (21 page)

Laura blotted her eyes
and meandered to the tourist information booth in the basement of Termini
station. With proper ID, she was able to pick up both ticket packets. Attached
to the stack was a ticket to the Vatican Museum with a 6:00 p.m. tour package.

“Scusi,”
Laura said, holding out the ticket. “We didn’t ask for this.”

The
woman behind the counter broke off her animated conversation with a police
officer to glance at the ticket. “Sorry. No refunds.” She pointed to a sign in
four languages that also warned of pickpockets.

Laura
changed tactics. “It’s extra. Maybe it belongs to someone else.”

The
woman shook her head and pointed to the comments section.

Sr. Thisbe,

A visit here may help with your research on the Borgias.
Beware, the Vatican is one of the few public places where cameras, like your
new Mori model, do not function at all. Elsewhere, cameras might record, even
when their owners
turn them off
. Don’t be Giordiano Bruno.

Eowyn

Laura
tried to decipher the message.
Someone who tracked him to Mama B’s didn’t
want to risk direct electronic communication
.
Was Grant a spy, or was
this message from a paranoid informant?
Just in case, she shredded the note
and disposed of the pieces in two trashcans. Then she rushed back to street
level.

Eowyn was the woman from Lord of the Rings who went toe-to-toe with a
human king that the dark lord had corrupted … the Nazgul
.
Clearly a crusader’s alias, probably a
fantasy gamer or a hacker.
Since Laura had no weapons bigger than her nail
file, she stopped at the sidewalk and pried up two brick chunks to give her
purse extra heft.

While
she strode briskly toward the government building to meet Grant, she linked to
him through her handbag.

Grant
answered, sounding chipper. “Forgiven me already?”

“I
was in the mood for a trip to the Vatican Museum later.” The Mario cab with the
crooked bumper trailed behind Laura like a stray dog. The advertisement board
read, Return Fares Half Price, but she waved the taxi away.

“I
used to be a tour guide there,” Grant boasted. “It’s how I paid for journalism
grad school. I majored in Renaissance history as an undergrad.”

There was no reason to buy
him
a tour. The time must be for a meeting.

She
could do research on the web, but that might take hours. Besides, the message
seemed very personal. “I could picture you reciting romantic poetry to Sif. How
do you feel about the Borgias?”

Grant
chuckled. “They remind me of your family.”

“And
Giordiano Bruno?”

He
laughed outright. “He was burned at the stake for saying the Earth revolved
around the Sun. Legend says that as they lit the torch, he shouted, ‘Still it
turns.’ A few years later, Galileo recanted his claims when faced with the same
charges—a lesson in politics. I’d lecture about the topic in one of the papal
courtyards where they have a giant, spinning globe sculpture.”

The note made sense now. My family has been spying on him through his new
camera drone, and they’re going to kill him if he doesn’t give up his
investigation.
Laura shifted the
brick-filled handbag to cover her heart in case snipers were lurking. As she
ran, she scanned the area for surveillance teams. “Grant, I want to go to the
interview with you.”

“That?
Turns out the office has already closed. There’s an iron gate over the
entrance. Even banks and tourist attractions take siestas here … and they
wonder why the economy is a mess. I’ve been editing your interview here on the
bench while I waited for them to return. My contact could be here any moment.”

Or it might be a setup.
The usual clouds of drones were eerily absent now.
No witnesses.
She
reached the address of the courtyard, searching frantically for assassins.
Below the eight foot level, the government building was obscured from view by
the brick wall. The delivery entrance was framed on both sides by solid, square
columns. The tiny driveway was barred by a waist-high metal crossbeam that
could be retracted.

She
kept talking for the sake of any listeners. She needed to smash Grant’s camera
before she could tell him the truth. Crouching beside the brick entryway, Laura
complained, “Don’t they label anything around here? Could you come out on the
street and wave so I can find you?”

Gripping
the purse with both hands, Laura prepared to swing. The camera bot emerged a
split second before Grant stepped over the barricade. She smashed the bot into
the pillar with a gratifying crunch that reminded her of a cockroach.

“What
the—? Are you crazy, woman?” Grant shouted. “What are you trying to do, kill
me?”

The
few people on the street stopped to stare. A hissing sound startled Laura. She
glanced down. Orangina from the shaken and battered bottles in her purse was
leaking out of the bottle onto her sneakers. The stream dribbled down the
driveway ramp past a white chalk X on the ground.

Puzzled,
she told Grant, “My family was listening to everything you said though your
camera.”

She
barely heard his muttered curses over the rev of an engine on the street. Tires
squealed. She deduced too late what the X meant. Grabbing his hand, she tried
to pull him clear, but his body was jerked from her grip.

The
impact conducted the sound of the crash through her bones as she bounced off
the side of the smiling taxi.

****

Laura gazed at the blue
sky as the purse on the ground beside her buzzed to capture her attention. Her
entire right side ached, but Laura staggered to her feet.
It probably
knocked Grant into the far wall of the courtyard. If I can stop the bleeding—

Shorter
than the barricade, the taxi had driven underneath the metal bar until the
passenger section hit. Police called it underriding when a car crumpled under a
semi trailer like this. The bumper and barricade had acted like a giant pair of
pruning sheers, slicing her friend in two. His legs had scattered on the
ground, while his top had merged with the mangled vehicle. A quick scan of
Grant with her Empathy talent revealed no signs of life.

This
was the same cab that had delivered them to Termini.
Was it originally
supposed to run the barricade on delivery instead of pickup?
She couldn’t
catch her breath. A siren sounded in the distance. Drones poured into the area
to survey the accident.

Her
purse buzzed again, indicating an incoming call. She glanced at the ground to
read the name of the caller—Bouryoku. She tapped the purse with her toe as if
it might explode. “That’s what happens when people violate building codes and
fail to file map updates. Against my professional advice, your grandfather has
graciously extended you another chance. A second taxi will arrive shortly take
you to the airport.”

“And
if I refuse?” Laura asked.
Would the Vatican give me sanctuary?

“Your
mother is in another taxi already heading to the airport.”

“Mom
has nothing to do with this. Nana would never allow her murder.”

The
hateful man replied, “Perhaps, but her last lucid moment before her final
compute trance will be the press asking her why you murdered Mr. Thisbe. He
died shortly after a heated argument with you. You tried to bludgeon him to
death. When that failed, you called a taxi you’d sabotaged to finish the job.
The money Mori-san originally offered is off the table now. New deal: finish
your mission in Brazil without delay, and we’ll make the murder charge go
away.”

He
hung up.

Laura
had less than a minute. She linked to Oleander with encryption enabled. Mother
had paid for the best purse available. Laura stood, covering her mouth with her
hand so cameras wouldn’t be able to read her lips.

Oleander
answered angrily, “Why the hell did you delay my flight?”

“Vatican museum garden courtyard with the rotating sculpture. Six o’clock. Meet a female
informant for Grant.” Laura didn’t feel the need to tell Oleander to wear her
invisibility suit or to sneak off the plane.

“What?
Why?”

“Grandfather
killed Grant and framed me. If I don’t see you again, take care of Stu.” The
new taxi pulled up centimeters from the last one.

If Grandfather is using Koku to predict my movements, I have to stop
playing the boring, dependable Laura.
Koku hadn’t been able to understand her as a woman in love. To survive,
she would have to change her external behavior to match her inner Salome.

She
tossed the purse, bricks and all, from the window as they crossed a river. This
should leave no physical link between her and the accident scene. As far as the
Bartiluccis were concerned, she might never have left the airport. Her mother
wouldn’t be considered competent to testify. Only the video evidence from after
the accident remained.

****

When Laura met her
mother at the airport, Kaguya asked, “How did you get hurt?”

“Bouryoku,”
Laura replied. “You should see the other guy.”

Her
mother handed her a clean outfit in a shopping bag. “All the other bags are
checked. I brought this for you for after we landed in Rio, but you might need
it now.”

Laura
ducked into the bathroom. Horrified by her reflection in the mirror, she
scrubbed blood spatter off her face and arms. None of the blood had come from
her own injuries. Airport security would have detained her for questioning. She
changed into the outfit her mother had provided—a flapper’s costume, where the
fringes on the skirt swished with her every move.

They
boarded the delayed Fortune Enterprises jet together. Instead of barring
access, this time guards flanked Laura to prevent her from leaving. She felt
relieved when she didn’t see Oleander in the front passenger section.

Laura
stuffed her old, bloodstained clothes into the blue chemicals of the toilet to
erase trace evidence. After she collapsed into a white leather chair across
from her mother, she ordered an ice pack and a cocktail to sooth her aching
face. Once they were airborne, Laura took a trembling breath and gulped her
Belini.

When
Oleander walked up the aisle behind her, Laura shrieked and snapped her
champagne flute in half. “Why the hell are you still here? I told you—”

Oleander
held up a finger. “I don’t work for you. You don’t
tell
me anything.”

“I
risked my life sending you that message.”

“There
was no way I could ride the damn subway invisible. Use you brain. Besides, with
rush hour, I couldn’t get there in time.”

“God.”
Laura checked the time on the cabin’s overhead map. “We’ve lost her. She tried
to warn us, and now she thinks we blew her off.”

“Relax.
I sent some of Mira’s guys to check it out.”

Laura
sprang out of her chair to grab the front of the woman’s flight suit. “Eowyn
will run from corporate types. Corp Sec is probably the group who—”

Oleander
grabbed both of Laura’s wrists. A switch inside had flipped. With laser focus,
she asked, “E-oh-one?”

“Yeah.
Hacker. Crusader.”

“She?
Tell me everything you know about this person.”

Breaking
Oleander’s hold and pushing into the aisle, Laura replied, “I’ll help you catch
Eowyn if you make me an official member of the
Sanctuary
consulate.”

“Why?”

Laura’s
eyes darted toward her mother. “I need diplomatic immunity.”

“Why?”
Oleander repeated, drawing out the word.

When
Laura tried to lead Oleander away, Kaguya said, “Because she tried to help Stu
so often against my father’s will, Tetsuo Mori is probably blackmailing her
now.”

“It’s
worse,” Laura whispered. “Oleander told me Stu respected the truth. So I
explained my side on film for Stu—spilled everything. Then I gave Grant some of
Grandfather’s secrets to research.”

Kaguya
pulled out her new purse. “We can still salvage this.”

Laura
grabbed the purse and deactivated its Internet capability. No one would be able
to check the news feeds until Brazil. “No. Bouryoku made a few credible
attempts on my life already. When that didn’t work, he framed me for a more
serious crime.”

Oleander
seemed genuinely sympathetic. “Girl, you are so screwed. I guess we can find a
staff position in the mail room or something. I don’t know if Brazil has an
extradition treaty with Italy.”

“For
this crime, they probably would,” Laura guessed.

“Okay.
Then you can live in the embassy if you have to,” Oleander agreed. “Stu has an
entire floor of one of the campus buildings blessed by the bureaucratic gods or
something. As head of
Sanctuary
security, I’ll write you a hall pass.
Now tell me how we find Eowyn.”