Read Online The Rainy Day Man: Contemporary Romance (Suspense and Political Mystery Book 1) by Amnon Jackont - Free Book Online Page A

letter..."
    I took the letter out of the drawer.  Scheckler leaned on the table, drawing lines in the dust with a thin finger.  I glanced at him from below.  He shrugged his shoulders. 
    "How much are you going to ask him for?"
    "Isn't what you got enough?"
    "Now it's your chance."
                  I put the envelope in the middle of the desk and he looked at it with covetous eyes. 
                  "There's an advantage to doing business with the priest.  The people in the village trust him, he isn't searched at the roadblocks - too much..."  He leaned over and watched me closely.  "From the moment I got here I've had my eye on him; him and the doctor.  Apart from those two there isn't anyone here who's really worth anything..."
                  Deep in the recesses of my mind a bell rang.  A pair, two, a duo...  'One of the two most important people' the Head had called our agent here. 
                  "What about the others?" I asked Scheckler.
                  He screwed his face up in an expression of contempt.  "Peasants, petty merchants, a bunch of no-goods."
                  The doctor and the priest, I thought in amazement.  One of them had been arrested, which meant that the other one was our veteran and experienced man who had been here for many years.  The sudden enlightenment caused me to feel a certain relief.  Also the idea that the priest was the man suddenly seemed more than logical, even natural.  Who in the heart of the chaos would cooperate with us if not a man who represented a religion oriented to Western European culture?  After that I remembered his figure in the processions:  thickset with an imposing mustache, leading his congregation, looking ahead on his path with a piercing gaze.  How could one expect someone so prominent, with a presence so apparent and distinctive, to contact his operator hastily, before making sure that there was not even the faintest chance of being discovered?
                  So he was waiting for an opportunity, for the right moment.
                  My eyes turned again to the letter.  My instructions had been clear: don't take the initiative, simply wait until contact was made.  But here was an opportunity, available and safe, ready in my hand. 
                  "Scheckler!" someone shouted from the courtyard.  A moment after he left I pushed the envelope into my pocket, locked the drawer and went out too.
     
    ***
     
                  In the square in front of the church, among black-robed women crouching amidst baskets of vegetables, the refugee children were quarrelling over the right to paddle in the puddle formed around the public tap.  Well-dressed choirboys peeped at them enviously from the churchyard.  The priest detached them from the fence one by one.  I greeted him.  He did not reply, simply gestured with his hand to a boy with an oversized, shaven head, who ran to the gate, pulled the bolt and opened it for me.
                  "I'm from there," I pointed toward the Athenaeum.
                  "I've already seen you." The boys were clustered behind him, grinning and digging their elbows into one another's ribs.  He pushed them towards the back door of the church and followed them inside.  For a moment I stood in the empty churchyard, contemplating all the hiding places, cellars and secret corners that building could offer.  After that I pushed the heavy wooden door and walked in.
    The cracked face of a Madonna shone in the dimness which smelled of incense and old clothes.  The priest fell to one knee and genuflected.  The children imitated him as they moved unto two rows of benches.  The priest stood up and faced them, his arms crossed on his breast.  I took a step into his field of vision.  He bent to a switch.  Light was thrown onto a stone altar, shining into the eyes of a plump plastic