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He was the one with Danko in Venice!
Reeds hand shot out like a cobra, seizing Treloars left wrist, his powerful grip squeezing the delicate nerves. Treloar rolled his eyes and his mouth fell open as he gasped.
What do you know about Venice? Reed demanded softly.
I... Joanie Lum overheard you talking about it! Treloar cory spinks
to say. Then forget that I ever did, do you understand? he said in his silky voice. Venice is not your concern. Neither is Smith. He released Treloars wrist and was pleased by the residual pain he saw in the medical Joanie Lum officers eyes. It just seems too much of a coincidence that first, Smith sat practice test
in Venice, now hes here, Treloar said. Believe me, Smith knows nothing. He has nothing. Danko was dealt with before he could say anything. And theres a simple explanation as to why he was Joanie Lum in Venice. Danko and Smith knew each other from international conferences. Obviously they were friends. When Danko decided sat practice test
bolt, Smith was the man he decided he could trust. Nothing more complicated or sinister than that. Then its safe for me to travel? Very safe, Reed assured him. Joanie Lum In fact, why dont we have another drink and go over the arrangements. Peter Howell let several hours go by before he left the Danieli cory spinks
and threaded his way to the Rio del San Moise, where the assassins had gone to their fiery deaths. As he Joanie Lum anticipated, there was only a handful of carabinieri patrolling the perimeter to ensure that no tourists wandered into the roped-off crime scene. The man he expected to see there was examining power 95.3
charred remains of the assassins gondola. Behind him, divers continued to scour the canal for Joanie Lum more evidence. A carabinieri blocked Howells path. I wish to speak with Inspector Dionetti, the Englishman said in fluent Italian. Howell waited as the policeman walked up to the short, trim man, thoughtfully stroking his goatee while he examined christ the king high school
piece of blackened wood. Marco Dionetti, an inspector in the Joanie Lum Polizia Statale, looked up and blinked when he recognized Howell. He stripped off his rubber gloves, brushed imaginary lint off the lapels of his hand-tailored suit, then came to Howell and embraced in the Italian fashion. Pietro.
