Licence To Howl by Helen Harper
Chapter Twenty-Four
Dawn,when it finally came, felt like an affront. Despite the cold winter weather, the sun was determined to shine upon all of Rome. Instead of lifting moods, however, the contrast merely made everything appear worse – and in daylight the devastation caused by the explosion at the Pantheon was even more horrific.
Devereau sat on the edge of a pavement, gazing at the scene. One of the paramedics had sourced a space blanket for him, which helped to preserve his modesty – such as it was – given his clothes had been destroyed yet again in his sudden transformation, and keep him warm. What the blanket couldn’t do, of course, was make him feel any better on the inside.
‘Here.’ Scarlett handed him a hip flask. ‘I pilfered this from one of the journalists hanging around by the cordon. It’s good stuff.’
Devereau chose not to pass comment on her thievery and instead took a long draught. Scarlett was right - the whiskey was mellow and tasted of spicy peat and considerable expense. It still burned his throat as it went down, however. He gave the flask a morose glance and took another swig.
‘How many?’ he asked. ‘Do you know the total?’
Scarlett sighed and sat down next to him. ‘Including the three we found? Twenty-six alive. Thirty-eight dead. It could have been worse.’
Devereau looked at the smoking ruins. ‘Not for those thirty eight people and their families,’ he said quietly.
Scarlett lowered her head. ‘No, not for them,’ she agreed. She sighed. ‘It looks like the choirboy might make it.’
The heaviness around Devereau’s soul didn’t lift. ‘That’s something.’
‘Yeah. It is something.’ She bit her lip. ‘And clan Lupo are being hailed as heroes. It’ll help with the anti-supe sentiment that exists here as well as everywhere else even if it’s not usually as blatant in Rome as in London.’
Devereau nodded distractedly.
Scarlett continued, unwilling to allow him to mire himself in his own misery. ‘You said before that you know who’s behind all this.’
He ran a hand through his blond hair. It was caked with ash and dirt and goodness knew what else. It was better not to think about it. ‘Not for certain,’ he answered. ‘But I have strong suspicions.’ He passed the flask back to her and realised she’d lifted her head and was looking straight at him. Scarlett was in as much of a mess as he was and he longed to reach over and wipe away the smudges on her face. Despite the grime, her eyes still sparked. That was the definite gleam of intelligence and energy that he associated with her – but now it included something else. Retribution, he realised. Her eyes glinted with her own personal vow of retribution against whoever had caused this to happen.
Devereau drew in a breath. ‘Vissier told me a few things about Alina Bonnet when we had our little chat together. Such as how she had suggested Solentino get hold of the Ring Of All Seasons.’
Scarlett stilled. ‘Okay,’ she said slowly.
‘At the auction, she’d seemed desperately keen to get hold of the ring. But we all know that if it does allow the wearer to see into the future, it only works on the Winter Solstice and that’s still more than a week away. Maybe she wanted a reason for Solentino to delay his operation to blow shit up so she had time to get rid of him and take his place.’
Scarlett looked dubious. ‘It seems a stretch. We might not have found her body but there was a lot of her blood at the scene.’
‘True,’ Devereau conceded, ‘but the only reason we know it was Alina’s blood at all is because you drank from her. That’s incredibly convenient, don’t you think?’
‘Solentino forced her into that situation.’
‘Did he though? It seemed that way at the time but Vissier said Alina had him wrapped around her little finger. I had the impression from the Dutchman that there were a lot of other things she persuaded Solentino to do.’ He paused. ‘And get this - before Alina was with Solentino, she was shacked up with Vissier. It was Alina who wanted Vissier to follow us. When he left the Colosseum, he headed to my hotel room to check it out. It might be a coincidence that it meant he was absent from the massacre at Solentino’s apartment and therefore didn’t die. Or it might be that she still had feelings for him and wanted to spare him by waiting until he was safely out of the way. Not to mention that leaving him alive means there was somebody left to point the finger at Avanopoulos. A man who’s already been described as dangerously malleable.’
Scarlett considered what he’d said. ‘That’s a lot of ifs. Avanopoulos can’t be ignored. He has to be a serious contender.’
‘I’m not discounting him,’ Devereau said. ‘But he came into the game late and he seems too … convenient. There may well be other players involved who we haven’t met yet. But my gut is telling me that Alina Bonnet is looking like the most likely candidate for terrorist of the year. There was something about her. Something in her eyes.’ He sighed. ‘There’s no real proof. It’s only speculation and we don’t know where she is or how to find her though so we can’t do much about it anyway. Berlin is next and Avanopoulos is involved in at least some regard. Despite my theories about Alina, we have a better chance of finding him and –’ He broke off in mid-sentence.
‘What is it?’
The hairs on the back of Devereau’s neck were standing up. ‘That fucking embassy guy. The young one. Mark something. He’s over there.’
Scarlett followed his gaze, stiffening when she saw him flanked by two security guards. He marched up to one of the more senior police officers who was directing the continuing operation to secure the disaster site and make it safe. From the way he began to gesticulate, it looked as if he was asking a question.
‘He’s looking for you,’ Scarlett commented.
‘And you,’ Devereau replied.
They both watched for another moment. ‘It’s the million pound question,’ Scarlett said softly. ‘Now that Solentino’s operation is underway, do we fall into line and let the real professionals take over?’
‘The circumstances might have changed but my answer hasn’t. I’m not stepping back. I can’t.’
‘In that case,’ she said, as the police officer glanced round, searching for them to point out to Mark, ‘we’d better move.’
‘We have to speak to Moretti before we go.’
She waved her phone at him. ‘I’ll call him and get him to meet us somewhere safely away from here.’
They both got to their feet. In the distance, Devereau saw Mark look over in their direction. He shouted towards them and began striding over, with the guards also moving at double speed by his side. Devereau flashed Scarlett a quick, humourless grin. And then they both turned and quickly walked off in the opposite direction. Sarah Greensmith would be incandescent, Devereau thought. He shrugged. Oh well.
* * *
Nicolo Morettino longer looked like the suave, arrogant alpha of clan Lupo with designer clothes and an unruffled façade. It wasn’t only his now ragged and dirty attire. There was a weariness behind his eyes and considerable pain etched into the lines on his face.
‘I am sorry for what has happened,’ Devereau said.
Moretti’s jaw tightened. ‘Do not be sorry,’ he hissed in an undertone that was far more intimidating than shouting would have been. ‘Be furious.’ He drew himself up. ‘I am.’
‘We will find the people responsible for this, Nicolo,’ Scarlett said. ‘All of them.’
‘I know you will. But can you find them before they repeat this in Berlin? In Paris? In London?’
‘We will do our best.’
Moretti’s gaze was hard. ‘Do better than that.’ He folded his arms across his chest. ‘I had a phone call from Athens twenty minutes ago. Avanopoulos left on a private flight for Berlin ten minutes after the Pantheon exploded.’ He passed Devereau a piece of paper. ‘The flight details are there but there’s no information about where he went after he landed. I’ve already contacted the three clan alphas in Berlin and they’re passing word around the entire supe community. Everyone is on the alert for him.’
All three of them exchanged grim looks.
‘If they spot him,’ Devereau said, ‘they can’t approach him. We don’t want to spook him, especially when he might not be the mastermind.’
Moretti’s eyes narrowed. ‘You think there’s someone else pulling the strings?’
‘Yeah.’ He grimaced. ‘I do.’
‘Very well. I will pass your request along. I cannot promise, however, that the Germans will abide by it. Not after what has happened here.’
Devereau nodded. He could understand that. He’d have to hope that cooler heads prevailed. ‘Is there any way you can help us get to Berlin without using our own passports?’
‘Not Berlin,’ he answered, ‘but I have a private plane that can get you to an airfield fifty miles out of the city.’
That would have to do. ‘Thank you.’
Moretti waved him off. ‘This has not been a good night for Rome,’ he said stiffly. ‘Or for Europe. Vissier was right, you know. My contacts tell me that three hours before the bombs went off, an anonymous message was left. It was a demand for one thousand bitcoin to be paid into an online wallet or Rome would suffer the consequences. I am told that such methods of money transfer are virtually untraceable and that the dollar equivalent is close to sixty million. In any case, the demand was ignored.’ He sniffed. ‘As one would have expected. We all know what happened after that.’
Devereau’s stomach tightened. ‘The die has already been cast and the operation is under way.’
‘Indeed it is.’ Moretti clenched his fists. ‘We have passed custody of Vissier to the Italian police. Given what he has been involved in, we had to do so. It won’t be long before the authorities across Europe know everything that we do. Vissier was already screaming Avanopoulos’s name when we handed him over.’
That was good. The more people on the lookout for the Greek fucker, the less chance there was that more bombs would go off. Organisations like MI5 had the means to track the explosives used and look at how security at the Pantheon had been breached. Such information could lead directly to the money hungry terrorists. It would also be far harder for Stefan Avanopoulos to escape detection if everyone was searching for him. And at least Greensmith wouldn’t be able to accuse him of withholding vital details. They were still on the same team at the end of the day.
‘Do not let them win, Englishman,’ Moretti said. ‘Not under any circumstances. These bastards will not waste time and they will make their next move swiftly. They are counting on a domino effect for their plans to work and they will not allow any country or any security services the chance to find them and stop them. Speed is their ally and your enemy.’
‘In which case,’ Scarlett said, ‘We ought to go now.’ She stepped forward and kissed Moretti on the cheek. Devereau fought a flare of irrational jealousy. ‘Take care.’
The Italian nodded. ‘Arsenio will take you to the air strip immediately. He has your suitcases all ready to go.’ Moretti paused. ‘Happy hunting.’
Devereau grimaced. It wouldn’t be happy at all, but it would certainly be a hunt. And an increasingly desperate one. He couldn’t fail again; he wouldn’t have more innocent blood on his hands. Not for the world.