A Deceit to Die For (46 page)

“But, what kind of book do you kill someone for?” insisted Gary.

“I don’t know,” said Gwyn “And I don’t want to know. I don’t care about their book. I just want them to leave us alone.”

“But we need to know why it’s so important to
them.
Was there anything else in the document that could help us?”

“Well, if it’s an assassination order for George Sale, then I think we understand everything in the document except for the key phrase.”

“And what is that?” asked Gilbert

“It’s the phrase ‘son of prophet’, which is clearly the object of the letter. It says that every trace of ‘son of prophet’ must be erased. We have researched it as thoroughly as we can, but have no idea what it means.”

“Barnabas,” said Gary quietly.

“What did you say?” asked Gwyn. “I couldn’t make that out.”

“It means Barnabas,” he repeated just as softly. “The term ‘son of prophet’ is the literal translation of
barnabya
.
Bar
means ‘son of’ and
nabya
means prophet. The Greek form was ‘Barnabas’. He was also called the ‘son of encouragement’ because of a reference in the book of Corinthians to prophets being encouragers. His name literally means ‘son of the prophet’. You should have paid more attention in Sunday school.”

Gilbert shook his head. Somehow he doubted Gary had learned that in Sunday school even though he had always taken faith more seriously than his siblings. Zeki was silent. Gwyn looked at his face. His brow was furrowed. His eyes didn’t seem to be focused on anything in particular. He was obviously processing this new revelation. Gilbert spoke first.

“Well, whatever it means, I doubt it is going to help us find my family. Don’t you think . . .”

Zeki gently cut him off. “Excuse me, but if we can just wrap up the Barnabas issue first. The sticky note your dad left included the initials G.O.B. I think this could be referring to the Gospel of Barnabas.”

“What is that?” replied Gwyn. “I’ve never even heard of it.”

Zeki was silent for a moment. Everyone waited for him to continue.

“Among Muslims, the Gospel of Barnabas is widely believed to be the truest extant copy of the message of Jesus. This would certainly explain why they think this is so important.”

“Wait a minute, if ‘son of prophet’ is the Gospel of Barnabas, and if it is so revered in Islam, why would someone connected to the Ottoman Empire be trying to ‘erase every trace’. That makes no sense,” said Gary.

“I don’t know the answer to that question,” responded Zeki. “But Gilbert’s right, we can research that later. Right now, we have to find Gilbert’s family. Give us half an hour to look at the transcripts from the key-logger. Maybe I can learn something from them.”

“Right,” said Gilbert. “I am going to make a phone call, and then we are moving to a new café. Talk to you in half an hour.”

He terminated the call and redialed Superintendent McIntosh.

“McIntosh.”

“Hello, sir.”

“Gilbert, thank God you’re okay.”

“We’re fine. I just wanted to check on your men. Looks like one of them might have been shot.”

“A flesh wound. He’s stable. How did you know?”

“We watched the whole thing. Please convey our sympathies and thank them for their service.”

He quickly explained what had happened, leaving out for now the part about a key-logger and their physical location.

“Listen,” McIntosh said. “Why don’t you and Gary come in? We can provide protection.”

He seemed genuinely concerned.

“I wish I believed that.”

“You don’t?”

“With all due respect sir, these people intercepted cell phone calls between my sister and I. They had a team of assassins try to take her out in a small rural Texas town just a few days later.”

“Try? Do you mean she is alive? Have you been in contact with her?”

He obviously had the Inspector’s attention.

“Yeah, she is alive and Zeki is the one who saved her.” He paused for effect.

“Zeki?” McIntosh was incredulous.

“That’s right. Zeki. He didn’t kill my father and doesn’t know who did. I would like you to revoke any Interpol notice against Zeki. Can you do that?”

“I can try, but he will still be wanted for questioning. He has violated immigration laws by using false documents.”

“Oh, I suppose he could have used his own passport and taken his place next to my father in the mortuary! Come on, he’s been one step ahead of us the whole time. You can do better than that.”

“I’ll try.”

“Inspector, I am afraid there is more bad news, but I don’t trust the security of your line enough to tell you. The man you captured in our hotel room might have information I need.”

“Mr. O’Brien, excuse my bluntness, but the paranoia you are exhibiting is very normal with people who have experienced serious emotional trauma. We need to sit down and talk, so you can tell me everything you have learned.”

“I’m a little busy right now. Don’t worry. I’ll be in touch. Let my assistant in DC know if there is anything important. Do you have a pen?”

“Sure.”

He gave him the number and was about to hang up when McIntosh said, “You were going to get me a copy of the document. Can you at least send me that?”

“Sir, have you ever heard of the mental condition known as AGP?”

“No, I can’t say that I have.”

“Well, I have just come down with a severe case of it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You will though. Do you have any cheese for a trap?”

“Mr. O’Brien, why the riddles?”

“I am sure you will soon find out. In the meantime, Mr. McIntosh, try not to get yourself killed. I’ll do the same.”

Gilbert terminated the call and turned to Gary.

“Do we have the video recorded?”

“Yep.”

“Then let’s go, Gary. This place may not be safe anymore.”

McIntosh opened his browser and did a search for
‘AGP’
and
‘illness’
. He didn’t have to look far. It was the second result from the top.
AGP is a recently diagnosed mental condition. Anti-Government Phobia.
He picked up the phone.

“Bob, get everyone working on the O’Brien case down to the situation room in fifteen minutes. Have we heard anything back from the local police in Texas?”

“Yes, sir. They’ve found two bodies in a nearby well. One was shot in the head with a hollow-point. Perfect shot, surgical entry, messy exit, immediate death. They didn’t find the bullet. The second man was shot four times—once in the right elbow, once in the left hand, and once in the left knee. One bullet recovered. It was a .223 caliber weapon. The second man did not, however, die from these wounds. He was killed with a bullet to the back of the head, .45 caliber at close range. Their weapons were in the well too, HK 91, semi-automatic versions of the Koch G3 assault rifles. Their magazines were full. Neither of them even got off a shot.”

“Sounds like Zeki does good work.”

“Excuse me, sir?”

“Zeki saved the girl from these two men. Or, at least that’s what his brothers just told me.”

“So, does that mean he isn’t our man?”

McIntosh made no attempt to hide his irritation.

“No, it means he has the girl and killed two other men. That’s what it means.”

“Well, if he’s clean, then I’m sure Gwyn will be contacting the police or her brothers very soon.”

“I doubt it. I don’t think the O’Brien brothers are coming in. Send a bulletin to airport security. We may not be able to detain them, but, if they leave the country, we can find out where they’re going, which might help the FBI find Zeki. I have a feeling they will be joining him shortly.”

McIntosh almost mentioned Gilbert’s comment about ‘cheese,’ but decided against it. If there was a rat, he wanted to move with caution.

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Zeki spent the next ten minutes reading over the logs Gilbert had uploaded to the ftp site. It was uglier than he thought. Most of the exchanges were in Turkish although some sections were in English. These were the sections that bothered him most. They were clearly being written to someone in London, someone on the inside at the Metropolitan Police Service.

For a while, he read over the data stoically, saying nothing to Gwyn, who continued downloading every file she could find on the Gospel of Barnabas and the Moriscos.
How much do I tell her? Will they even believe me if I tell them what they are up against?
He had no choice, so he took a deep breath and plunged in.

“Gwyn, these people have kidnapped your sister-in-law, her children and another woman. They are going to be used to ransom the document and are currently en route to Istanbul. But that is not all. They are planning to steal something from Augustinerlesesaal. We need to find out what that is.”

He spelled out the words for Gwyn as she typed them into the search engine.

CHAPTER
38

Gary followed Gilbert out of the café and back to the underground. The Internet café they were going to was in Covent Gardens, just a short ride back towards Russell Square on the tube. The walk to the station through the Soho streets was bizarre for Gary. He had been so removed from the opulence and excess of western youth for so long that he had almost forgotten what it was like. The local young people were ready to enjoy the last few days of summer heat. The streets were pulsating with the beat of dance music. Weekend clubbers were preparing for a long night of physical exertion on the dance floor. Gary could only wonder if any of them had Pict ancestors. If so, their forefathers would surely have been proud of the tattoos, the wild hairdos, and clothing that left little room for imagination, and probably downright jealous of their extensive body piercing.

When they got off the tube a few minutes later, Gilbert led him to another internet café on a side street. It was not nearly as chic as the one in Soho had been, but the clientele was the same. They found a computer in the corner and put on their headphones. Gary logged in and opened the chat window. It began ringing instantly. Gwyn had been waiting for them.

“Can you hear me?” asked Gwyn.

“Clear as a bell,” he responded.

“Z. has read everything from the key-logger you managed to install.” Her voice was trembling. The emotional roller coaster ride was taking its toll. “I’ll let him tell you about it.”

“I’m afraid I have bad news,” began Zeki. “They have your family and one other woman. It looks to me like they were put on a boat heading to Vlore, Albania.”

He paused for a moment to let that sink in.

“Albania?” said Gilbert. “That would make sense. Fairly unstable political environment with plenty of organized crime. How far is it across the Adriatic there?”

“We were just looking at that. It’s about one hundred kilometers, so a speed boat could do it in less than two hours if the weather is nice. The final destination, however, seems to be Istanbul, which means that if they go overland, they will have to pass through at least two border checkpoints. That would be our best chance for intercepting them and recovering your family, which is why they will probably choose to travel by boat instead. Still, you should alert the US consulate in Italy and tell them what you know. The US government will have to make a special request for Interpol to issue a yellow notice for missing children. This should be expedited to all of the countries on their potential route to Istanbul—Albania, Macedonia, Bulgaria and Greece. We should inform the Greek coastguard as well.”