“That explains it. And what did you talk about?”
“The future.”
“What does he have in mind?”
“A partnership.”
“Francesco and me?”
Chiara made no reply.
“You?”
She nodded. “He wants me to come to work for him. And when he retires in a few years...”
“What?”
“Tiepolo Restoration will be mine.”
Gabriel recalled the words Tiepolo had spoken while standingover the tomb of Tintoretto.Today you’re on holiday, but one day you’ll die in Venice...He doubted this scheme had been hatched over coffee yesterday.
“A nice Jewish girl from the ghetto will be caring for the churches andscuoleof Venice? Is that what you’re saying?”
“Rather remarkable, isn’t it?”
“And what will I do?”
“I suppose you can spend your days wandering the streets of Venice.”
“Or?”
She smiled beautifully. “You can work for me.”
This time it was Gabriel who looked down. His phone was aglow with an incoming message from King Saul Boulevard. He turned the device over. “It might be controversial, Chiara.”
“Working for me?”
“Leaving Israel the minute my term is over.”
“Do you intend to run for a seat in the Knesset?”
He rolled his eyes.
“Write a book about your exploits?”
“I’ll leave that chore to someone else.”
“So?”
He made no reply.
“If you stay in Israel, you’ll be within easy reach of the Office. And if there’s a crisis, they’ll drag you back in to right the ship, just like they did to Ari.”
“Ari wanted back in. I’m different.”
“Are you really? Sometimes I’m not so sure about that. In fact, you’re getting more like him every day.”
“What about the children?” he asked.
