securing Billy, he slapped him, hard. Billy groaned and struggled into a sitting position next to her on the floor.
Smith spun his pistol in his fingers and then shoved it into his belt. âThatâs better.âHe withdrew earplugs from both ears with his free hand and paced before them.
âLike two peas in the pod. Darcy and Billy. Rome is going to be pleased. Absolutely ecstatic. Two at one time? Iâm outdoing myself, and that . . . that is hard to do. Now letâs start from the top, shall we?
âThe last two, thirty-five and thirty-six in the same shot. Two birds, one stone. Youâre going to tell what you know. Who else knows.â
âYou can tell Muness that my promise still stands,â Billy said. âIâm going to burn him.â
âMuness doesnât concern me,â Smith said. âYou think that your being here is a stroke of fortune, boy?â He chuckled. âWhatâs the matter? You donât know what Iâm thinking? Really?âHis lips flattened.âThen let me tell you what: Iâm thinking that your days of traipsing through the daisies are over. For both of you.You can help us by telling me what you know about Johnny Drake and Samuel Abraham, or you can lose your fingers and toes, tongues and eyes, eventually your lives. Thatâs what Iâm thinking.â
Darcyâs first thought was a simple one. Do it, Billy! Weâll do it! Make something up if you have to.
But one look at Billyâs twisted face and she doubted he was on the same page. And neither was she, not really. She might be panicked now, predisposed by her nightmares to turn against anyone who had anything to do with Paradise; but in truth, she couldnât betray another human to this beast.
âGo to hell,â Billy said.
âI see weâre not making progress here. Let me help.â Smith knelt beside him, grabbed his hands behind his back, and reached around with a cigar cutter heâd withdrawn from his pocket.
Clink . . .
Billy started to scream. Blood squirted from his finger, now missing just the very tip.
âShut up !â
Billy clamped his mouth shut and shook. Sweat vibrated from his forehead.
The man from the Vatican stepped over him, grabbed Darcyâs foot, and clamped it under his arm. She felt his fingers spreading her toes and she cried out in horror. The tape muffled her voice. She kicked out.
Phffft! Phffft!
Agent Smithâs head snapped back. His glasses exploded into shards of crimson glass. He dropped the cigar cutter and collapsed with one lip twitching and one finger squeezing a trigger that wasnât there anymore.
After a moment, he didnât move at all.
âBilly Rediger and Darcy Lange?â
The man whoâd killed Smith had appeared in similar fashion to Billyâs entrance. With one exception.
He held a gun and he held it like he knew how to use it. And he, like Smith, wore dark glasses.
âYes,â Billy panted.
âAre there any more of them?â
âNo.â
âThank goodness I made it in time.â
----
CHAPTER NINE
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BILLY SAT next to Darcy, nursing his bandaged finger. The man who saved them had cut them both free and suggested that Darcy tend to Billyâs hand.When they emerged from the bathroom, the man had already hauled Smithâs body into the garage.
He stood in front of them, sunglasses fixed in place, hands on hips like a platoon sergeant looking at two new recruits.
âOkay . . .â Darcy glanced from one to the other. âWill someone please tell me whatâs happening here?â
âMore than meets the eyes,â the man said. He removed one hand from his hip and tapped his chest. âMy name is Brian Kinnard. A good guy, okay? The man I killed?â He jabbed at the garage doorway behind him. âDefinitely a very bad guy.â
âAnd what would that make us?â Billy asked.
âYou two are the prize. Everyone wants
The Science of Leonardo: Inside the Mind of the Great Genius of the Renaissance