Before Altswood Can Cry (The Altswood Saga #4)

Chapter 3 - Investigation

Chapter 3 - Investigation

Jules and I exchanged a worried glance. We had been nervous before, but the anxiety in the room ramped up to unimaginable heights upon Gabriel's question.

"What did it say?" I asked him shakily. "What did the message say?"

"Play it again," Gabriel instructed. "I'll translate line by line."

In the end, what we ended up with was: Hello, my love. I can't talk long, but listen carefully. The bomb which went off last night: it wasn't a fluke. There are four more planted across the city that are set to blow in the next 24 hours, and the last one might take out the entirety of Venice, perhaps Italy too. I can't explain right now how I know, but I need you to trust me. I'm on my way to defuse the second bomb but I'm afraid that they are onto me. I need you to go upstairs and hide all my notes, hide my laptop. I'll call to explain more once I'm done. Take care. I'll see you soon.

"What the hell," Luca exclaimed as soon as the message ended fully and Gabriel stopped speaking. "Please tell me this is role-play. Please tell me you enrolled in a criminal justice class."

I winced. "This is real."

Luca swore viciously, her voice loud at first, then fading in and out while she paced the room on the other end of the line.

"Go to the police," Gabriel said when it seemed Luca was out of advice to give. His tone was calm, but I had known Gabriel since kindergarten—I heard the tell-tale tremor in his voice.

"This guy was the police." I massaged the ridge of my nose. "He ran into me on the streets, died in my arms, and then explicitly warned me against giving his phone to anyone. Who else except for other officers would I even give it to?"

"Okay, so you have corrupted cops," Luca said, her cautious voice coming near the phone again. I could envision her picking her words carefully: of anyone, she knew best that sometimes only a select few members of law enforcement could be trusted until there was enough information. "How do we feel about Interpol?"

I picked at a loose thread on my shirt. "Forget it. There's no way they would trust our word over established professionals. It's not as if—"

"Time to go, kids! Venice doesn't wait!"

Jules and I jumped, both almost falling off the edge of the bed when the heavy banging came on the door. Professor Lim didn't stop thundering her fist down on the door frame until Jules called out a hurried "okay!"

I bit down on the inside of my cheeks. "We've got to go," I said into the phone when Professor Lim's voice moved farther down the hallway.

"Call us again later," Luca demanded firmly. "You hear me?"

"We will," Jules assured. He reached forward and ended the call.

Silence.

"Either we could stop the city from blowing in 24 hours," I said, "or we could risk this information falling into corrupted hands."

Jules sighed. "Well," he replied. "Claudio Taverna certainly chose the right person to pass his unfinished business onto."

***

2PM — 22 hours remaining

St. Mark's Basilica was a monument to great art—a roaring church famous for its carefully chosen colours and world-renowned architecture. Professor Furaha was having the time of his life explaining every detail to the class, cupping his hands around his mouth to throw his voice over the dozen other tour guides around us bellowing in some different language.