Chapter 8
Back home, Mac was sitting at my desk, fiddling with the computer. “There’s no Internet,” she complained, “but I’ve been having some lovely games of solitaire. So what did you, oh, my God, look at all the musical instruments! Where’s my piano?” She was smiling, of course, but wistful, too.
Feeling like I should have remembered sooner, I said, “St. Mark’s Cathedral has a couple of them, and a huge organ, too.”
“A huge organ, huh?” Of course, that was Burk, but it had crossed my dirty mind, too. “Please, dear, not in front of the child.”
“I’m not a child. I am nineteen years old, nearly twenty. An adult. Who has a huge organ?”
“No, seriously, you know what, I need a drink. I bet St. Mark’s had a well-hidden supply of wine, too. And it might be a gathering place for anyone who
