The First Apostle by James Becker

Author:James Becker [Becker, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
Tags: Police Procedural, Police, Conspiracies, Mystery & Detective, Biblical Biography, New Testament, General, Religion, Inscriptions; Ancient, Suspense, English, Thrillers, Fiction, Bronson; Chris (Fictitious character)
ISBN: 9780451226709
Publisher: Signet
Published: 2009-03-15T08:00:00+00:00

Two hours later, Angela was in Bronson’s room surrounded by books on the Roman Empire. They now knew a great deal more about Nero, but information on Marcellus was tantalizingly sparse. He seemed an extremely shadowy figure, and they found almost nothing about him that they hadn’t already known. And they still had not the slightest idea what the Latin inscription might refer to.

“We’re really not getting anywhere with this,” Angela said, closing one of the reference books with an irritated snap. “I’m going to start looking at the second inscription.” She stood up and reached for her coat. “I’ll be in the third cafe’ on our list, if you need me.”

“Right,” Bronson replied. “I’m going to keep flogging away at these for a while. Be careful out there.”

“I will, but don’t forget nobody’s looking for me, at least as far as I know.”

Angela had been working at the machine for only about twenty minutes when the door of the cafe’ opened. A police constable entered and walked across to the girl manning the counter.

“Good afternoon, miss,” the officer said. “We’re looking for a man who we believe was in this area earlier today using cybercafe’s, and we wonder if you remember seeing him in here.”

He produced a photograph from a folder he was carrying and placed it on the counter. As he did so, Angela caught a glimpse of the face in the picture and realized in a single heart-stopping moment that it showed Chris.

“I’m sorry,” the girl said, “I only started my shift here a couple of hours ago, and I’m pretty sure he hasn’t been in this afternoon. You could try asking the customers.” She waved her hand to encompass the twenty or so computers in the café and the dozen people using them. “Some of them are regulars. What’s he done, anyway?”

“I’m not at liberty to say, I’m afraid,” the officer said. He walked across to the first occupied terminal and repeated his question. By the time he’d got to the third computer, all the people in the cafe’ were clustered around him, staring at the picture. Angela realized that if she didn’t go and look, that would appear suspicious in itself. So, on legs that weren’t quite steady, she walked across the room and peered at the photograph of the man she knew better than anyone else in the world.

“And you, miss?” the constable asked, looking directly at her.

Angela shook her head: “No, I’ve never seen him before. Quite good-looking, though, isn’t he?”

A couple of girls in the group giggled, but the policeman seemed unamused. “I wouldn’t know,” he said, and turned to leave.

“This bloke,” the girl behind the counter asked, “if he does come in, what should I do? Run away and hide in the loo, or make him a drink? I mean, is he dangerous, or what?”

The constable considered the question for a few moments. “We don’t think he’d pose any risk to you personally, miss, but you should telephone the Park-side station as soon as possible.

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