Page 31 of The Medici Return

But the last sheet grabbed his attention. The original Texas birth certificate. Listing Suzy as the mother and the father as unknown. And the date of birth? He did the math. Seven months after Suzy left Pensacola. An uncomfortable question forced its way into his thoughts.

Could it be?

Long ago, while still in the navy, before his time with the Magellan Billet, he’d had an affair with Suzy Baldwin. Nothing about that was he proud of, and he never repeated that mistake again. But recently he’d come to learn that he might have a daughter from that relationship who would be approaching twenty years old. The problem? Suzy Baldwin was dead and the truth died with her.

But maybe not.

He had enough information to go find the young woman. The question that kept crowding his mind was, should he? Wrestling with that difficult inquiry had caused his insides to wither and shrink, leaving pangs of regret and plenty of confusion. Everything about the situation seemed blurred by uncertainty. He sometimes questioned himself for pursuing the problems of others, like here, especially when he had plenty of troubles of his own that required attention.

But that ghost had lain dormant for a long time.

Better to leave it alone?

The train slowed.

They were coming into Koblenz.

THOMAS FOUND HIS PHONE AND SENT A TEXT.

Come to the lavatory one car behind. Now, before we stop.

He watched through the glass panel in the rear door and into the next car. His female acolyte stood and walked toward him, sliding open the doors, leaving the car, and entering here, disappearing into the lavatory. He surveyed the people around him.Less than ten. All comfortable in their seats. He reached into his shoulder bag and found his gun. Keeping the weapon inside the bag, he attached a sound suppressor to the end of the short barrel. This was risky. No question. But it had to be done.

He stood, his senses sharpened, with one hand inside his bag, the other cradling it, and walked to the end of the car. The lavatory door was closed. He lightly tapped the panel.

Which opened.

He stepped inside.

“What was the problem?” he asked.

“We planted the money and the police came for the American. We took down the Swiss Guard contact, as you wanted, but the American showed up unexpectedly in Cologne.”

“Your partner?”

She shook her head. “They fought and he was stabbed to death.”

Then Malone had followed her. Right here. Yes, this was a problem. “Why did you not shoot him?”

“Too many people around. I would have been caught. Definitely seen.”

Incompetence.

He hated it.

He brought the gun out and fired one round into her skull.

The rumble of the train helped mask the soft pop of the well-placed sound-suppressed shot. The bullet exploded into the forehead, leaving a jagged red pulpy opening from which gray matter trailed. The head jerked back, a hand moved upward, blood splattered the wall like a work of modern art. The body lurched backward, but he caught it in time so there was no noise.

He helped her settle atop the toilet.

Lifeless eyes stared back.

He left, engaging theOCCUPIEDnotice and closing the door.

The train was beginning to slow more.

He needed to hurry.

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