The laptop beeped as it tried connecting to the Vatican. Lily, Bertram, and Mort were in Mort’s apartment clustered around his laptop to get a view of the screen. Mort had made coffee and tea, but they were all still jittery.
A blurry picture appeared on the screen focusing into a bleary-eyed Christopher, Moreales’ secretary. As soon as he saw who it was, his trademark haughty look shaped his face. He was not happy.
“Mortimer, do you know what time it is here? Maybe you are used to Silas’ all-night party attitude, but we go to bed at a sensible hour at the Vatican. We can’t all be freewheeling field agents, staying up to all hours of the night.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Mort said. “You know I would never wake him if it wasn’t important.”
“Wake him? I see the secretary doesn’t ma
