Free Unholy Ghost by James Green Page B

Joubert it is likely that the matter of the owner of the convent will be passed into other hands. When that happens I will need you in Paris and after your last visit that presents certain difficulties. Stay available and ready to move at short notice.’
    Jimmy stood up and waited but McBride ignored him, she was busy putting away the copy of the dossier so he left the office, went down in the lift and walked out into the sunshine. It was about a fifteen-minute walk to where he could pick up a bus which would take him to the nearest Metro station but he didn’t mind. The morning sun was pleasantly warm and it gave him time to think.
    She’d told him a lot, but had she told him all of it? She usually didn’t so she probably hadn’t, only what she wanted him to know to get the job done. So, what was the job? And he suddenly realised she hadn’t actually told him. Apart from all the kerfuffle about American business playing both sides during the war she hadn’t really told him anything. And even if all of it was true it was all ancient history now. And the Pope Pius XII stuff? No, it wasn’t right, it didn’t feel right.
    As Jimmy walked and thought he began getting a bad feeling about it all. McBride might be devious but she didn’t normally lie outright, just bent the truth to suit her own aims. But what were her aims? Planting her candidate on whoever was responsible for finding the Colmar heir? Or was it something else as well?
    He’d flown out of Munich to Rome late and after he’d arrived in Rome he’d only had time to grab a quick breakfast before setting off to meet McBride. He decided he was too tired to give it the kind of attention it needed so he walked on to the bus stop, caught a bus to the Metro, and went home. Once back in his flat he took a shower and made himself a cup of coffee. He wanted to think but he also wanted to sleep. He was caught between the two. He sat and tried to think but his brain kept closing down.
    When the phone woke him he didn’t know how long he’d been asleep in the chair, a few minutes or a couple of hours. He answered the phone and recognised the voice. It was a Monsignor that McBride used.
    â€˜Hello.’
    â€˜Mr Costello, I have some bad news. Professor McBride has been shot.’
    Jimmy sat up wide awake and the cup of cold coffee on the arm of his chair fell to the floor.
    â€˜Dead?’
    â€˜Not when she was in the ambulance but I’m afraid it was very serious.’
    â€˜How?’
    â€˜Two men on a motorcycle as she came out of the office block. They were waiting for her.’
    â€˜Can I see her?’
    â€˜No. She is in surgery and then, if she survives, she will be in intensive care.’
    â€˜Do you know what her chances are?’
    â€˜The hospital say she is unlikely to live. One bullet nearly severed her left arm and they had to amputate above the elbow, a second grazed her heart. But she is a woman of great courage and faith, Mr Costello, great courage and faith. We must hope and pray for the best.’
    Jimmy swore quietly. His wife Bernie had been a woman of great courage and faith all her life, but he’d still had to sit at her bedside and watch her die.
    â€˜Let me know if there’s any news.’
    â€˜Of course, Mr Costello.’
    â€˜And thanks.’
    Jimmy put the phone down.
    Christ, if she died where did that leave him?
    All of a sudden it had become life-threatening, only it was McBride’s life, not his, at least not yet. But it soon could be. Whoever was out there knew about him, had been waiting and watching in Paris. This had to be them again and if they’d made a try for McBride he could be next. He stood up and listened to the voice in his head drumming the same message over and over.
    Run, Jimmy, run fast, run far, and hide well.
    The voice was right, one down and one more to come if he wasn’t fast and clever.
    He grabbed what he needed,