Read Online The Black Madonna by Davis Bunn - Free Book Online

the only word of Hebrew that Emma knew, “Beseder.” Which meant okay.
    Emma knew instantly the day was anything but. She fought for the air to ask, “Is it Harry?”
    The priest gave a fractional nod. “Madame, I regret to inform you that Harry Bennett is dead.”
    â€œThat can’t be.”
    â€œIt should not be, I agree. But it is.”
    â€œHarry was working on a dig. He told me he was perfectly safe.”
    â€œSo the Israeli authorities assumed, Ms. Webb.”
    â€œAre you sure?”
    â€œI am afraid so.”
    â€œHow? I mean, how did . . .”
    â€œAn incendiary device.”
    Emma did not realize she was weeping until the priest pulled a clean handkerchief from his pocket and passed it over. “Harry was killed by a bomb? On a dig?”
    â€œNo, madame. In Hebron.”
    The priest related what he knew, which was not much. Emma tried to listen, but her senses had become separated from the outside world. Not even time held her any longer, for one moment they were riding along the Mall and the next they were parked beneath the springtime trees flanking her Georgetown apartment.
    As soon as the car halted, the agent in the passenger seat opened his door and stepped out and waited for a man from the other vehicle to walk over and settle in. The newcomer swiveled in his seat so that he faced her as straight as he could and said, “Agent Webb, I wonder if you perhaps recall our last meeting.”
    Trying to see the man clearly was like looking through a translucent screen. She fought for enough air to say, “No.”
    â€œRubin Kleinmann. I had the honor of serving as Israeli ambassador to the United States. I have handed over the responsibility to my successor and am preparing to return to my country next week.”
    â€œTh-the church,” she recalled, “Sean’s funeral.”
    â€œThe funeral of my dear friend. Just so. May I say, Agent Webb, how deeply sorry I am for your loss.”
    â€œYou’re certain?” Her swallow was a battleground trek. “Harry is . . .”
    â€œThere is no doubt. I am sorry. Agent Webb, you must please forgive me for speaking with you at such a distressing time. But the matter is most pressing. When did you last have communication with Mr. Bennett?”
    She applied the now drenched handkerchief to her eyes. “Three days ago. Harry said something about driving to Hebron to check out a buy.”
    â€œMr. Bennett was assisting us in tracking down counterfeiters of ancient artifacts operating inside the West Bank. Did he tell you of this?”
    â€œH-he said there was no danger.”
    â€œAgent Webb, please, this is crucial. Did Harry say anything about who he was planning to meet?”
    â€œJust that he thought he had found the source.”
    â€œDid he mention Russians?”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œDid Mr. Bennett make any suggestion that Russians were involved in this trade? In the past they were heavily involved in the Palestinian insurrections; of course you know that.”
    â€œBut all that stopped years ago.”
    â€œYes. So we assumed as well.”
    â€œI-I don’t understand. You’re saying Harry got caught in West Bank crossfire?”
    The priest spoke with the professional manner of one who had often dealt with the recently bereaved. “We have heard through sources that Harry Bennett was the target.”
    â€œHarry had nothing to do with Russians.”
    The former ambassador said, “When we first heard this rumor, we discounted it as well. Hebron has been the flashpoint for several intifadas. We assumed Mr. Bennett was simply the unintended victim of internecine conflict. But our sources have nowconfirmed what the Vatican heard. We have checked very thoroughly. The attackers used a bomb in an attempt to mask their operations. And the Russians were most definitely involved.”
    But her mind could not get past the possibility that this was