Chapter 67 Chapter 66

Chinet McCree looked restless.She was in the passenger seat of the BBC's car, which was spinning around a corner on Thomas Healy Road.Gunther Glick is looking at a map of Rome, apparently lost.Just as she had feared, the mysterious person who had called him called again, this time with more information. "Piazza del Popolo," insisted Glick, "that's what we're looking for, there's a church there, and there's evidence in it." "Evidence," Chinit stopped wiping the lens in his hands and turned to him, "proving that the cardinal was killed?"

"That's what he said." "Do you believe everything you hear?" Chinet hoped, as ever, that she was calling the shots. The cameraman, however, is in a subordinate position, at the mercy of journalists who are often whimsical.If Glick listens to a flimsy phone call, McCree can only be led by the nose. She looks at him.He sat in the driver's seat, his chin straight, looking focused.She assumed the man's parents, frustrated comedians, had named him Gunther Glick.No wonder this guy is always trying to prove something.Yet, despite his unfortunate title and obnoxious hunger for fame, Glick is mild, pale, frail, and looks a lot like movie star Hugh Grant.

"Can't we go back to St. Peter's Square?" McCree said as patiently as possible, "We can investigate this mysterious church later. The conclave has started for an hour, and if we're not there, the cardinals' election results will come out." What should I do?" Glick didn't seem to hear. "I think we should go right, here." He tilted the map and studied it again. "Yes, if you turn right...then immediately turn left." He pulled the car out of the corner and onto the narrow street ahead. "Be careful!" McCree exclaimed.She's a video technician with sharp eyes.Fortunately, Glick's movements were also swift.He slammed on the brakes to avoid breaking into the intersection.At this time, four Alfa Romeo cars suddenly appeared, and then disappeared in a flash.The cars skidded to one side after crossing the intersection, slowed down and made a sudden left turn the block ahead, the route Glick had intended to take.

"A bunch of lunatics!" McCree yelled. Glick was stunned, "Did you see it?" "Yeah, I see! Almost killed us!" "No, I mean the cars," said Glick, suddenly excited, "all the same." "So, don't think all of them are crazy." "The car was full of people." "So what?" "Four identical cars with four people in each." "Have you ever heard of carpooling?" "In Italy?" Glick checked the intersection. "They haven't even heard of unleaded gasoline." He stepped on the gas and followed the cars.

McCree was thrown back into her seat. "What on earth are you going to do?" Glick accelerated down the street and turned left following the Alfa Romeo convoy. "I feel like it's not just you and me who are going to church right now."