The eye of the lion
Chapter 33

Shailesh Vajpayee wearily got out of the taxi that had brought him to his hotel, and paid the chauffeur. He walked towards the reception, dragging his feet. He felt exhausted, emotionally drained. Giorgio, the receptionist, handed him his room key with a smile.

“Doctor Waiss is waiting for you in the bar, Doctor,” said the man, gesturing towards the entrance of the hotel’s restaurant.

The Indian looked at him with evident surprise. That was unheard of, given the lengths Waiss had gone to in order to conceal his identity, and the pains he went to when he contacted him.

He walked towards the bar, his head bursting with questions.

Perhaps Waiss’ presence would explain why they’d denied him entry to the laboratory that morning. Perhaps Waiss also knew what was behind the death of the Pope and his most likely successor. And without a doubt Waiss would know that the most important investigation of his career was about to be lost for ever.

He walked into the bar, looking at the people there and trying to recognize the man whom he knew only by his voice. At the back, next to the bar, someone raised an arm.

“Doctor?” said a voice, calling him.

A tall, blond, Germanic-looking man stood up, smiling at him. Shailesh approached, thinking that he’d imagined his enigmatic benefactor quite differently. He took the hand that he offered him.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you at last,” said the man.

“I had pictured you differently,” commented Shailesh.

“We need to talk privately,” urged the blond man.

“Let’s go to my room,” said the Indian.

They walked towards the elevator and got in. An elderly couple got in with them. As they went up, the young genius started to feel uneasy. Something wasn’t right.

He glanced discreetly at Waiss. He was looking at the illuminated numbers as they rose. That was when Shailesh

noticed it. Perhaps it was an insignificant detail, but it set off alarm-bells in his mind: Pinned to the man’s tie, almost covered by his coat, was a small golden cross.

Shailesh looked away. An ominous feeling started to come over him. The door opened and the elderly couple got out of the elevator. Shailesh watched them walk away as the doors closed again, and he couldn’t help feeling a touch of home-sickness for his distant home and his parents in Uthar Pradesh.

They got out of the elevator and made their way towards Shailesh’s room. As the young man opened the door, the feeling of apprehension gave way to downright fear. An unknown sensation told him that he should run away from there, that he should get on a plane and go home. But his rational, scientific mind - much stronger than any hunch - had directed his life for so long, and he wasn’t about to surrender the reins because of a momentary attack of a vague sensation. So he opened the door and they went in.

The blond man sat on the chair that Shailesh offered him, and he sat on the bed. They looked at each other in silence for a few moments. The blond man smiled.

Another blond man, also dressed in a black suit, walked unhurriedly out of the bathroom, looking coldly at the Indian. He slowly brought his gloved right hand to his coat and got out

a pistol fitted with a large silencer. As he was doing so, Shailesh managed to make out the gleam of a small golden cross on his tie.

The blood froze in his veins. Now he understood. Waiss was dead. As was Voquessi. As was Kelly. As soon he would be, too. As would be all those who knew the secret.

Without getting up from the bed, in silence, he put his coat on the bed and looked at the false Waiss who was observing him, his face devoid of expression.

“If you have any honor at all, you will allow me a last request,” said Shailesh, controlling his voice. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNovᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

The icy blue eyes looked at him in silence.

“The money in my brief-case. Send it to my parents... please,” he murmured.

The man nodded slightly. Then he looked at his accomplice.

Behind the door of room 604, only the dull thud of a falling body, deadened by the thick carpet, broke the silence of the moment.

Five days later, in India, the Vajpayee family received in the mail a check for five hundred thousand dollars.

They never did find out where it came from.

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