“Did you have any idea you were a diversion, Nasim? That Saint Patrick’s Cathedral was the prime target? That the vice president of the United States was inside the cathedral when the bomb was planted? And other high-ranking members of our government?”
“No, I didn’t know. I did believe, though, there would probably be other attacks. Why a grenade in a security line if there was no more to it than that?”
“You never heard any of the men who took you speak of the vice president? Or any other American names?”
Nasim shook his head. “I only heard the word Bella—and as you know, that is Italian for beautiful. I can’t imagine their calling Vice President Foley beautiful. I suppose now they meant the beautiful cathedral, other cathedrals as well? They are prized symbols, are they not, monuments revered for their beauty?”
“Worse, they are effective targets for terror. If you can’t feel safe in a church, where are you safe?”
“Yes. Who would risk attending a place of worship if someone might blow it up? I pictured the incredible cathedral in Rouen, lying in rubble. It would be an awful thing.”
Sherlock said, “Until we find them, we can’t know what they will try to do next. Do you think there is any chance they will release your family?”
“Not while I am alive, in your custody. While my family is alive, they control me. These people know no mercy, no forgiveness, no understanding. They are like dogs. They defecate and move on. I pray my family is not already dead.” He raised hopeless eyes to her face. “I pray also that I am not being a fool to believe it possible.”
She brushed against the cuff on his wrist. “You have done the right thing, Nasim. If it is possible to help them, we will.”
Nasim looked down at his shackled feet. “They took me outside for a half-hour last night, when it was dark, to breathe in the fresh air, to let me feel I’m alive. I look forward to that. May I ask you to bring me a pen and paper now, so that I may write a note to my family? I will trust you to give it to them, if it is possible.”
“Yes.” As she rose, he said, “My kidney still hurts, but I don’t have any more headaches. Perhaps you are out of practice.”
“I thought I kicked you hard enough to give you a right proper concussion, maybe a short hospital stay. I’m glad I didn’t.” She smiled at him, waited for Cal to follow her out, and closed the door.
Was that a laugh she heard?
When Sherlock and Cal returned to the living room it was to see Jo raising a cup to Sherlock. “Well done.”
Giusti was rubbing her hands together. “We’ve already notified MI5 about this nom de guerre—the Strategist. We have nothing in our records about him. I’ve put out a call to find anyone by the name of Hosni Rahal, get us a location.”
She looked at Sherlock. “I’m sorry for Nasim. We won’t let him die, we won’t let that happen, but I fear for his family as much as he does.”
Cal said, “Seems to me Nasim asked the best question—why him? This imam? And why? MI5 needs to do some digging into the imam’s finances, his dead father’s, his mother’s. There’s got to be something there.”
Pip Erwin sipped his iced tea. “I still wonder why Nasim trusted only you, refused to speak to the rest of us. Just you, Sherlock.”
Sherlock said, “I think he wanted to tell someone, and I was the one he felt a connection to. It’s strange, though, how convinced he is he will die soon.”
Giusti nodded. “He clearly does. I don’t think there’s a terrorist within a hundred miles of this place, but I’m tempted to tighten security even so. Perhaps we should keep him in the house tonight.”
“He was so looking forward to being outside,” Sherlock said. “It would be an opportunity for me to talk with him again.”
Cal was standing next to the front window, his arms crossed over his chest. “Come on, you guys can’t really be thinking about taking him outside every night, among all those trees? Have you looked through an infrared sniper scope, like the Ares 6? Attach that to an H-and-K and you’re in business from hundreds of yards away. You can’t take that kind of risk, especially if Sherlock is with him.”
Jo Hoag walked to Cal, put her hand on his shoulder. “Cal, I’ve walked the grounds, and there are only a few spots that would be vulnerable to a sniper. We never let Nasim walk that way.”
“There are people who want Nasim dead, he’s right about that,” Cal said. “He failed them, and he’s a major loose thread, a threat to them. I would be moving him room to room, never on a schedule, and no outside jaunts, ever. As for letting Sherlock out with him, I veto that.”