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of his voice. The kind of voice you instantly, instinctively believed. The kind of voice
that if it told you the moon was made of green cheese, then you wondered what a slice
would taste like.
25
Lisa Marie Rice
He was tall. Very tall. She remembered that instant of disbelief when she d first
heard his voice way above her head. For a moment, she d wondered if he were on steps,
or even somehow on another floor.
He was strong. The second she d touched him on the arm, she d felt the muscles
beneath the jacket sleeve, like warm, moving steel. She d been held in his arms, for just
a moment, but it had been enough to feel shielded and protected by something
immensely powerful.
She knew he was standing just off the stage, listening to her, waiting for her.
Allegra had absolutely no doubt about that. He was exactly where he said he d be. She
knew that like she knew the words to Amazing Grace.
She felt connected to him. It was insane, but there it was. How on Earth could she
feel connected to someone she d just met? Who she d exchanged just a few words with?
She struck an experimental chord. The playlist had been decided last week and she
should be singing Flying, but another song came out. An old Celtic air her father and
his brothers used to sing when she was a child. They mostly sang it when they d had a
few beers too many, which they often did.
Break of Dawn. It was always connected in her mind with happiness, unfettered
joy. The baritones and tenors of the Ennis men had made it a rousing ballad, a male
chorus of uncomplicated jubilation, but she played it slow, in a minor key. For someone
who was tentative, unsure about happiness and joy.
Someone who thought all joy had fled from this world. Uncertain at the thought
that it still existed. But still hoping.
Douglas would never have heard the song. He wouldn t know that she was
changing it for him, that it came from the heart.
Maybe he would.
She was halfway through the song, lingering over the notes when she heard
exclamations from the surrounding crowd. A cry, an angry mutter. A woman s voice
rising in complaint. Steps moving sharply across the marble floor.
And then an explosion rocked her world.
26
Midnight Angel
Chapter Four
Kowalski was standing by the stage, watching her. There was a little island of space
all around him. He d shot such filthy looks at those near the stage who weren t listening
that they d just moved away.
Damned straight. Anyone not capable of listening to this wonderful music didn t
deserve it anyway.
This song was beautiful, too, though not one she d composed. Break of Dawn.
He d heard it once in a pub near the Dublin docks. He remembered that pub fondly. It
had been a real dive, the ancient wooden floorboards stained from uncounted gallons of
spilled beer suds and thousands of cigarette stubs and probably a couple pints of blood
from all the fights down the years.
The Shanty. Kowalski wondered if it had survived the smoking ban in Ireland.
Some drunken laborers had sung a rousing chorus of Break of Dawn,
surprisingly in tune considering how pie-eyed they d been. Kowalski had been utterly
charmed. The Irish workingmen hadn t been able to stand straight, but they d sure been
able to sing true.
Allegra s version was much more beautiful, a slow bluesy rendering, the same song
but with a different meaning.
He understood very well what she was doing with the song. It became a lament for
lost happiness, yet tinged with a blush of hope, like the first flush of dawn.
She was halfway through when the lights went out. The main hall was completely
black.
This was bad news.
The exhibit catalog had helpfully explained that the value of the Jewels of the
Czars was worth, at a conservative estimate, 520-million dollars. Not counting, the
catalog had cheerily added, their value as antiques and historical artifacts. From that
point of view, the jewels are literally priceless.
Coming into the turn of the century Parks Mansion, which served as headquarters
for the Parks Foundation, he and Midnight had counted five security guards ringing the
exhibit. Which meant at least ten on the grounds. And not the flabby, rent-a-cop kind
with bunions, either. They were young and fit and vigilant, armed with MP5s.
Part of the security system was based on laser beams and infrared cells running off
the electricity mains. No security system worth spit would be without a backup
electrical system. If that hadn t come on automatically when the mains went, it meant
the entire system had been taken down. Together with the security guards.
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