“Unless she was feeling overconfident,” Kat said. “Emboldened by being on her home turf.”
Seichan frowned. “Or it’s a trap.”
Everyone turned her way.
“Maybe she wants to lure us out there.” Seichan nodded to Kat. “To her own home turf, as you stated.”
“Where we’d be at a significant disadvantage.” Monk finally looked swayed to Seichan’s side. “But do we fall for this bait?”
Kat sighed. “There’s much we don’t—”
A chime interrupted her, coming from a neighboring console as an encrypted call hit their systems.
Kat turned to Painter. “It’s a video conference request from Father Bailey.”
Painter nodded. “We might all as well listen in.”
Kat completed the connection and tapped to accept the call.
A moment later, the familiar countenance of Finn Bailey filled the monitor. The priest sat behind a desk. Dark shelves climbed behind him, full of dusty volumes, suggesting he was calling from the depths of the Vatican Archives. He looked grim, a departure from his usual amused manner. He swiped aside a fall of black hair, a match to his priestly frock, to show a serious cast to his bright green eyes.
“Looks like you’ve got the band back together,” he said with a thick Irish brogue, eyeing the group gathered at Kat’s shoulder. His attempt at joviality was belied by a sorrowful expression.
He took a deep breath and continued. “First of all, thank you, Captain Bryant, for sharing what Monsignor Borrelli dispatched to you. While the Holy See has been informed of the murders, no one knew the monsignor had sent off this message, that collection of photographs.”
“We were hoping you might offer some clarity,” Kat said.
“I’ll do my best. Monsignor Borrelli was one of my professors. In fact, Alex was my academic adviser for my classical studies dissertation.” Bailey cast his eyes down. “He was also a dear friend. His loss will be mourned by many.”
Painter shifted forward. “Can you tell us what Monsignor Borrelli was doing in Moscow?”
“He was there at my request,” Bailey explained with a pained expression. “The Russian Orthodox Church is seeking the return of hundreds of books from our archives, volumes with questionable provenance. Alex had been dispatched to diplomatically sort the matter.”
Seichan looked to the other screen, which still showed the paused image of the priest’s throat being slashed. “He died wearing coveralls and a work helmet,” she said. “That doesn’t look like someone returning from a diplomatic dinner.”
Bailey nodded. “True. Alex had been invited to accompany a team of archaeologists to explore the tunnels beneath Moscow. A week ago, some students discovered a cache of ancient books held in old steel chests and hidden away in a vault.”
“Were they valuable?” Gray asked. “Worth killing over?”
“That’s what Alex had hoped to determine.” Bailey’s eyes winced. “But that’s not what had most excited my friend about this chance discovery.”
“What do you mean?” Kat pressed him.
“I had a conversation with Alex yesterday. He had hoped that those chests might be part of a long-lost archive, one of inestimable value, a collection known as the Golden Library.”
Noting their confused expressions, Bailey filled in the history of a Byzantine collection of ancient volumes that had been lost during the reign of Ivan the Terrible. “Treasure hunters and academics have been searching for that library ever since,” he finished.
“And what of the vault?” Gray asked. “Was Monsignor Borrelli able to confirm his hopes?”
“We don’t know. Russian authorities tracked down one of the students who had discovered the site and went down to look. They found the place collapsed by a huge rockfall. They’re just beginning to organize a recovery effort. But it’s believed the rest of the exploratory team died down there.”
“Then maybe it was a simple heist,” Monk said. “Someone heard about what had been discovered and sought to secure it for themselves.”
Seichan frowned, still staring at the dead man on the other screen. “The monsignor went through considerable pain and effort to dispatch those photos. It was a desperate last act. He must have believed they were important.”
“I reviewed the photos,” Bailey said. “Whether true or not, I suspect Alex believed they offered a clue to the Golden Library’s location. He needed the information to get to someone who could help find the treasure before those thieves reached it first.”
“But Monsignor Borrelli sent those photos tous,” Kat said. “Not the Vatican. Why?”
