Richard Beard - Acts of the Assassins

‘Let’s start at the beginning,’ Claudia says. ‘How did you get my address?’

Gallio pulls himself together, blinks a couple of times to hide his weakness. ‘I’m a Speculator.’

‘Me too. I’m supposed to be hard to find, not part of the story.’

‘Took some numbers off your phone in Caistor. Then there’s a procedure. The internet. We both know how to do it.’

‘I trusted you.’

‘You put a tracer in mine.’

They sit on high kitchen stools on opposite sides of her kitchen island, which is narrow enough for them to hold hands, should they choose to do so. Gallio drinks the coffee, strong and good. ‘Nice house.’

‘You’re scaring me. Why did you come here?’

‘To find Alma. You work as Valeria’s fixer.’

‘I’m not a nursemaid.’

‘Busy time. All hands to the pump. You’ll have other jobs, probably secret, but I thought you might also be keeping my daughter.’

Claudia scratches at the marble counter with the polished nail of her index finger. The counter is clean, so she has nothing to pick at except deep set grains in the stone. She wipes the flat of her hand over the smooth finish as if to sweep away crumbs. No crumbs, but she sweeps them anyway with a flick of her hand, as far across the kitchen as imaginary crumbs will go.

‘You’re paranoid,’ she says. ‘You can only take speculation so far. When your conclusions stop following logic you become as deluded as anyone who believes in life after death. And sometimes you’re deluded even when every step by itself looks reasonable.’

‘Which is why we need the CCU. To make sure complications stay tidy and explicable.’

‘Exactly. Mysteries can be explained. Explanation makes the problem go away.’

‘Has the CCU ever asked you to kill anyone?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. I made the same pledges on graduation that you did.’

‘I killed Jesus.’

‘Did you? No one’s convinced about that. You’re a special case. You thought you killed someone but you didn’t.’

On Claudia’s side of the island there’s a drawer beneath the counter. She pulls the drawer out far enough to slip her hand inside. She wouldn’t, not here, surely? Gallio darts out his hand and clamps her wrist.

‘Let go of me.’

‘What’s in the drawer?’

To have a mind like Cassius Gallio’s is a curse. He lets his suspicions find a shape, and Claudia of all people can get close to him. After Caistor Valeria knows that, though she wouldn’t have planned anything too exotic because Gallio isn’t a disciple. So maybe a muted clip from a silenced CCU-issue Beretta. Valeria would be confident he’d follow Claudia somewhere quiet, should she ask. Like a bedroom, for example. Valeria has created the conditions.

‘I have nothing dangerous in the drawer, Cassius.’

‘I think you do.’

‘You have a vivid imagination. Too vivid. Your story isn’t the big story here.’

‘Bring your hand out very slowly.’

She does so, though he uses his strength to keep her slow. In her hand she has a buff-coloured padded envelope, A4 size, which she slides onto the counter. He lets go of her wrist and she rubs blood back through to her fingers.

‘Sorry.’

She bangs the drawer closed. ‘Money,’ Claudia says. ‘Paul’s bonus, in cash, once Peter is dead.’

Cassius Gallio peeks inside, sees several bricks of notes. He doesn’t need to count it, but guesses more of a stash than he spent on Judas.

‘You knew all along,’ Cassius says.

‘Some of it. I’ve speculated the rest for myself. Valeria had to have an inside contact for us to find the disciples so quickly.’

‘Her inside man was Paul. We both worked out Paul was working for Valeria.’

‘She learned from the past. You ran the same double-agent ploy with Judas, only Valeria embedded Paul more deeply.’

‘Why are you telling me this? I’m a deserter. I make colossal mistakes, and end up sleeping in your garden. My judgement is suspect.’

‘I don’t remember Caistor as a misjudgement. Speaking for myself.’

Claudia sweeps at the counter, and she leans in and sweeps at the counter once more. She checks her phone, sips some coffee. She bites the inside of the corner of her lip, works at the soft inner flesh like Judas had in the Antonia. Whatever she’s about to say, the effort involves eating some of herself up.

‘I’m telling you because of Caistor. The CCU has not been kind to you.’

‘Valeria called me back from Germany. I’m grateful for the second chance.’

‘She couldn’t find anyone else.’ Claudia offers nothing to cushion the truth, not even the softest lie. ‘You were asked to look for Jesus as if he were alive, but Valeria reasonably assumed he was dead. She wanted you for a specific purpose of her own. Basically she faked a manhunt using a washed-up Speculator, and Paul exploited the charade. He could let it be known the CCU was looking for Jesus, making the resurrection more credible, which suits Valeria’s strategy of running Paul as a Roman client apostle. By this stage the story of Jesus is more powerful than the living human being, and Paul’s version of the sect can prosper on the story alone, as long as the disciples aren’t alive to disagree with the details. And, of course, as long as Valeria and the Complex Casework Unit pull the strings.’

‘What about the second coming, and the promise Jesus made to show himself in the lifetime of one of his disciples, and to stage a once-and-for-all public appearance?’

‘Paul can explain that promise away, with Valeria’s help. The second coming is symbolic, he says. It represents individual enlightenment when the world changes for whoever becomes a believer. Not the end of the world, as the disciples understand it.’

‘Which is convenient, because personal armageddons don’t threaten civilisation.’

‘There you have it. The Jesus belief is tamed if Paul takes the place of the disciples, and at the same time Valeria gets her private revenge by luring you into a ridiculously empty quest. To anyone in the loop you look stupid. You’re a Speculator running around searching for a long-dead terrorist. Cassius, you’re a laughing stock.’

The backs of Gallio’s hands look old on the worktop, the ridged knuckles, the prominent veins. Valeria brought him back to seek out a man she knew was dead. She’d contrived a mission with no possibility of success, even though the pursuit itself had given a purpose to his days, the endless days. He at least had that, and maybe his time was better spent on this than looking for nothing. Cassius Gallio remembers his dream of glory, the vanity that had blinded him to the truth. Well played, Valeria.

‘I’ve spent too much of my life on this,’ Gallio says. ‘I should have accepted the fact that Jesus died. Look again in the obvious place. That’s what my stepdad always said. Jesus was crucified and Jesus died.’

‘The CCU analysts made a percentage chart, and the highest probability is that the man who died on the cross was Jesus. He did die, like so many others, and his body was stolen from the tomb with the collusion of individuals working for the occupying army. That computes as the most likely explanation, given the conditions, and to make it happen the disciples needed someone’s help.’

‘It wasn’t me.’

‘Your soldiers were paid off.’

‘After the event. Baruch paid them on behalf of the Israelis to say the disciples stole the body. They wanted to stop the resurrection story from gaining traction, and Valeria knows what Baruch did and why. It came out in the interrogations we did at the time.’

‘Baruch is dead. Also convenient. No one can check with him who he paid and who he didn’t. You could have taken a bribe to help set Jesus free, which then makes you a prime suspect as the murderer of disciples. You want them dead because they know you were involved, and now you’re trying to clean the slate. Valeria can pin this on you without breaking sweat, if that’s what takes her fancy.’