A Deceit to Die For (68 page)

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Authors: Luke Montgomery

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BOOK: A Deceit to Die For
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“I don’t get it,” said Gwyn. “Why would they steal it in the name of a priest?”

“Because they want it to look like a priest did it,” replied Zeki, shaking his head in disgust.

“Oh my gosh,” said Gwyn suddenly. “They mean to pin the blame on the Vatican . . .”

“That’s what it looks like to me,” he said. “If they were to steal the only complete surviving copy of the G.O.B. and frame a Vatican priest for it, then it would look like the Vatican was trying to hide something. The western media would have no qualms about broadcasting it, and it would confirm the suspicions of Muslims around the world that Christians have forever suppressed the true message of Jesus. I assure you it would be a much bigger story than our little document.”

“Wow,” said Gary, turning to Matt. “Now, when these guys want to upstage somebody, they do it on a grand scale.”

“But why,” asked Matt, looking up at the ceiling “are
you
telling us this?”

Gwyn shot him a quick look. She knew from the tone in his voice that he had just drawn his sword. She wanted to tell him to back off, but Matt turned to Zeki, suspicion and distrust written all over his face, and asked again. “Why are you telling us this?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” said Zeki coolly.

“Look, let’s stop playing games here,” Matt replied. “You are a Muslim. I also know from Gilbert that you are ex-MIT, and for all I know, maybe you still are. Why are you helping us uncover this? This is huge. You could have kept this information to yourself.”

Zeki grinned, “But, I didn’t, and still you don’t trust me.”

Matt was ready with his disclaimer. “I don’t know what your motivations are. This is not personal. For me, rule number one is ‘nothing is what it appears to be.’ You said so yourself. Aren’t the people who tried to kill Gwyn Muslims like you?”

“Like me?” repeated Zeki, returning Matt’s stare with a look that might have been a lightning bolt it was so intense. “If they were like me, they’d be here discussing the history of this forgery, not holding innocent children as ransom. Or, to put it conversely, if I were like them, I would have already slit your throat for your insolence and unbelief and taken the document and Gwyn as the spoils of war.”

Matt stood up indignantly. Zeki looked at him, his face a strange mixture of contempt and compassion.

“Sit down, son. You are a smart man. Stop letting doubt, suspicion and extraneous facts cloud your judgment.”

“Matt,” said Gwyn. “Zeki saved my life. I can’t believe that is not proof enough.”

She walked over and stood beside Zeki.

“He’s been right about everything so far,” Gary pronounced in a somber voice.

There was a long silence. Matt was clearly uncomfortable with everyone lining up against him. Finally, he looked at Gilbert, who was still strangely silent.

“It’s your family. I’m just here for the ride. I’m going out for some fresh air.”

With that, he walked out of the room. Zeki waited until he heard the outside door shut.

“Now,” said Zeki, “What are we going to do?”

“It’s simple,” said Gary. “We inform the library and have them arrest the man when he comes in and presents his fake ID.”

Zeki shook his head and smiled. “I don’t think so.”

“Why not?” protested Gwyn.

Gilbert slammed his hand down on the table. Gwyn jump back a step in fright.

“For goodness sake, Gil. What is wrong with you? You scared me to death.”

Gilbert stood up in the middle of the room, talking to everyone and no one in particular.

“You know, right now, I don’t really give a rat’s ass about some 17th-century group of religious perverts trying to sell their own damned twisted version of history or whether or not Father Franchini starts a jihad aimed at the Vatican. I want my family back. Does anyone see how any of this shit is going to help us?”

Gary stood up and walked over to his brother. “Gil, calm down, man. Get a hold of yourself.”

“Get a hold of myself? Get a hold of myself? What I want to do is get a hold of these criminals. That’s what I want.” His voice was getting louder and louder. “I want to make these sorry bastards pay and I want my family back.”

Gwyn jumped up and got right in his face.

“Stop it Gilbert! Right now! Stop it! When has your anger ever solved a problem, huh? In this condition, you are like a city whose walls have been broken down.”

The proverb their mother had drilled in their heads combined with the visual image of a young lady who was the spitting image of her jolted him back to reality. He sat down and put his head in his hands. No one wanted to speak, but the silence was worse. Gary looked at Zeki. The man had walked over to the window and was staring at the curtains as if they were glass and he could see the people on the street outside. Gary walked over, kneeled beside his brother and put his hand on his knee.

“Gil, are you okay, man?” His question went unanswered and he waited another minute. “Hey bro, talk to us. What are you thinking?”

More silence. Gary was about to give up when Gilbert said quietly,

“I’m not thinking. I’m praying.”

“So am I,” said Gary.

He looked at Gwyn, who immediately said, “Me too, Gil.”

From the other side of the room came Zeki’s deep baritone, “Me too, son. God is great. He is bigger than any challenge we face.”

A strange peace seemed to wash over the room, and Gwyn felt the knot in her throat slowly dissolve. She couldn’t help wishing Matt had been here for this moment, and for the first time in almost a year she breathed a quick prayer for him as well.

 

 

CHAPTER
52

 

I
STANBUL
 
 
Zeki asked to be excused and slipped out of the room. Gwyn refilled their tea glasses. Gary immediately turned to his brother and said in a voice just barely above a whisper.

“I thought you were going to talk to Matt and tell him to keep a lid on it!”

“Cut him some slack,” said Gilbert, picking up a glass of tea. “If you had spent the last year rescuing victims of human trafficking, many kidnapped and sold in the Middle East, you might have an attitude too.”

Gary sighed. “Well, his attitude is straining our relationship with the only friend we have in this city.”

Gwyn cocked her head and looked askance at her brother.

“What are you talking about, Gilbert?”

“I’m talking about Matt,” he said.

“Not the Matt who was just in this room?” She lowered her voice.

“One and the same,” he said. “A lot has changed since you guys broke up.”

“He works with prostitutes?” she asked.

“Gwyn, please! You sound like a jealous schoolgirl. He helps rescue victims of sexual exploitation. You should be proud of him.”

“Oh, I don’t have a problem with that. I was just surprised; that’s all,” said Gwyn, reaching up again for locks that were no longer there and then nervously folding her hands in her lap.

“I can’t believe he left State,” she continued. “He always talked about climbing the ladder, winning an appointment as an ambassador and then maybe running for Congress. Why would he leave a career in foreign affairs? That was his dream.”

“Dreams have a funny way of working their way to new endings and sometimes turning into nightmares,” replied Gilbert.

“So, what department or agency does he work with now?” she asked.

“He isn’t with a department,” replied Gilbert.

“Well, who does he work for?” she insisted.

“Look, Gwyn, I think that is something you should ask him yourself.”

“Why can’t you tell me?” She shot back.

From the corridor came the sound of a door closing. Gilbert just smiled at his sister and turned towards the door as Matt walked into the room.

“Is anybody getting hungry?” asked Gilbert. “I bet Gary knows a reputable place somewhere close that serves up some good kebab.”

“I’m starved,” said Matt.

“Sure, I can pick something up and bring it back here. Let’s wait for Zeki and see if he wants something too.”

“I don’t know how long Muslim prayers last,” said Matt. “But you’ll have to wait for him to finish. The door to the bedroom at the end of the hall by the bathroom was left in a crack. I peeked in and found him prostrate on the floor. I’m pretty sure that’s what he is doing.”

Gilbert looked at his sister sitting on the couch and shook his head. He knew that look, that icy stare. Her reaction came faster than he thought.

“So, Matt, what have you been doing with yourself since you left State?” Her voice had a steely and sterile tone.

Matt didn’t know her as well as her brother did, but he could still sense the hardness in her voice. He had a split-second debate with himself about how much to share and immediately decided that a vague answer was safest.

“I work with an NGO that focuses on social reform, mostly in Eastern Europe. It has been a tough transition, but I think I’m starting to find a groove. In fact, if I were perfectly honest, it has been therapy of sorts. Helping hurting people rebuild their lives has helped
me
do something I don’t think I’ve done in a long time, at least not while I was at the State Department with all of the political maneuvering and career ambition.”

He stopped. Gwyn waited until his silence outlasted her patience.

“And what was that?” she asked.

“I got my eyes off of myself long enough to see the world around me,” he said quietly.

The answer confused her. Her face screwed up funny for a second and then she continued.

“And just what is your position at this NGO?”

“Well, I’m not really on staff. Our relationship is focused more on collaboration not employment.”

“I see. So, who are you working for?”

He understood now where she was going and that she wasn’t going to be satisfied until she got an answer. There was no sense playing cat and mouse with her.

“I’m self-employed, Gwyn. I work outside of the system to apprehend criminals and bring them back into the justice system.”

“Outside the system? What is that supposed to mean?” she asked.

He sighed and looked her straight in the eye. The intensity she saw in his eyes made her uncomfortable, but she held his gaze.

“What it means? Are you sure you want to know?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I think it would be better if you let some things lie. But you can’t do that, can you? It’s always total and complete transparency, isn’t it? So, if you must know, I’m a bounty hunter,” Matt said flatly.

“A bounty hunter,” she repeated the words in disbelief and then fell silent, trying to keep her face expressionless.
Why did it matter anyway? He can do whatever he wants.
Inside, however, she knew she still cared. There was no way she could process all of this right now.

Zeki entered the room. The atmosphere was pensive, and he wondered what had transpired while he was out. He made his way towards his chair trying to read their faces.

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