Free Cathedral by Nelson DeMille

It was blank. She looked questioningly at Singer and Hull. They shook their heads. She broke the seal on the envelope.
    Maureen's mind went back to London five years earlier. She and Sheila had been hiding in a safe house in an Irish neighborhood in the East End.
    Their mission had been secret, and only the Provisional IRA War Council knew of their whereabouts.
    A florist had come to the door one morning and delivered a bouquet of English lavender and foxglove, and the Irishwoman who owned the house had gone up to their room and thrown the flowers on their bed. "Secret mission," she had said, and had spit on the floor. "What a bloody bunch of fools you all are."
    She and Sheila had read the accompanying card: Welcome to London. Her Majesty's government hope you enjoy your visit and trust you will avail yourself of the pleasures of our island and the hospitality of the English people. Right out of a government travel brochure. Except that it wasn't signed by the Tourist Board but by Military Intelligence.
    She had never been so humiliated and frightened in her life. She and Sheila had run out of the house with only the clothes on their backs, and spent days in the parks and the London Underground. They hadn't dared to go to any other contacts for fear they were being followed for that purpose. Eventually, after the worst fortnight she had ever passed in her life, they had made it to Dublin.
    She pulled the card half out of its envelope to read the words. Welcome to New York. We hope your stay will be pleasant and that you w ill take advantage of the pleasures of the island and the hospitality of the people.
    She didn't have to pull the rest of the card out to see the signature, but she did anyway, and read the name of Finn MacCumail.

    71

    NELSON DE MILLE

    Maureen closed the door of her room and bolted it. The flowers were already on the dresser. She pulled them from the vase and took them into the bathroom. She tore and ripped them and flushed them down the toilet.
    In the mirror she could see the reflection of the bedroom and the partly opened door to the adjoining sitting room. She spun around. The closet door was also ajar, and she hadn't left either of those doors open. She took several deep breaths to make sure her voice was steady. "Brian?"
    She heard a movement in the sitting room. Her knees were beginning to feel shaky, and she pressed them together. "Damn you, Flynn!"
    The connecting door to the sitting room swung open. "Ma'am?" The maid looked across the room at her.
    Maureen took another long breath. "Is anyone else here?"
    "No, maam."
    "Has anyone been here?"
    "Only the boy with the flowers, maam."
    "Please leave."
    "Yes, ma'am." The maid pushed her cart into the hall. Maureen followed her and bolted the door, then sat in the armchair and stared at the Paisley wallpaper.
    She was surprised by her calmness. She almost wished he would roll out from under the bed and smile at her with that strange smile that was not a smile at all. She conjured up an image of him standing in front of her.
    He would say, "It's been a damned long time, Maureen." He always said that after they had been separated. Or "Where are my flowers, lass? Did you put them in a special place?"
    "Yes, very special," she said aloud. "I flushed them down the goddarnned john."
    She sat there for several minutes carrying on her imaginary conversation with him. She realized how much she missed him and how she wanted to hear his voice again. She was both excited and frightened by the knowledge that he was close and that he would find her.
    The phone next to her rang. She let it ring for a long time before she picked it up.

    72

    CATHEDRAL

    "Maureen? Is everything all right?" It was Margaret Singer. "Shall I come up and get you? We're expected at the Irish Pavilion-"
    "I'll be right down." She hung up and rose slowly from the chair. The Irish Pavilion for a reception, then.the steps of St. Patrick's, the parade, and the reviewing stands at the end of