The Turin Shroud Secret by Sam Christer

Author:Sam Christer [Christer, Sam]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Thriller, Mystery
ISBN: 9780751547146
Publisher: Sphere
Published: 2012-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

86

TURIN

Erica Craxi is still shaking. And with good reason.

Goria leaves the fifty-four-year-old with his colleague Dario, while he talks to Nic. ‘Her husband is not here.’

The American looks worried. ‘The phone call, did I—’

‘No. It wasn’t that. He’d gone before you called. His wife says he heard something and went outside with his gun to investigate. He told her to go out the back door and hide in the woods until he came back.’

Nic nods towards Goria’s colleague. ‘What did Craxi hear, your man moving around?’

He shakes his head. ‘No, not him. Dario heard something too but didn’t want to break cover. He saw Craxi come outside and he went to follow him. Someone cracked him over the head and stuck a sedative in his neck. Now he thinks I will sack him for being useless.’

‘And will you?’

‘Probably, but not tonight. Tonight there is still much work to do.’

‘So where’s Craxi now?’

‘The wife doesn’t know.’

‘And your men – your team – they didn’t see anything?’

‘Doesn’t seem that way.’ Goria falls silent. He’s been outwitted. Made to look foolish. Now the LAPD officer with powerful FBI friends will start questioning his value. ‘Let’s go inside and speak to the signora. Maybe she can help us.’

Nic wonders who answered his call, who was listening to him when he thought Craxi was on the line. Goria uses his walkie-talkie to call the rest of his team out of their surveillance positions. The lodge is small and basic. Bare board walls and scatter rugs are warmed by a wood-burning stove that cradles the last charcoal embers of what an hour ago was a blazing fire. Two sofas covered with thick red blankets face off across a low, junk wood table covered in tabloid magazines and old paperbacks.

Erica Craxi settles in a dent on a sofa and Nic can tell this is her usual place. A lipstick-marked mug of almost-finished coffee on the floor by her feet confirms it. Goria sits next to her. She wraps a blanket protectively around her knees and tries to control the shaking as he talks softly in Italian. Right now she looks much older than her fifty-four years. Grey hair is clumped and matted with soil and shredded leaves. Her eyes are darkened by tears and smudged mascara. Dario appears from the kitchen with a glass of water and a wet hand towel to clean the scratches on her face.

Goria keeps his voice low as he briefs Nic. ‘The signora says Roberto was convinced there were people closing in on them. He thought he saw something moving outside, took his gun and went to look. He told Erica to hide in the woods until he returned because he knew she’d be a sitting duck if anyone entered the lodge. Anyway, after he’d gone she hesitated.’ Goria half-laughs then whispers even more quietly, ‘She wanted to go to the toilet first. While she was in there, she heard a phone ringing. The one we’d dropped through a window. It frightened

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