We didn’t have to wait that long to see what our tail did, he simply sped up and drove off, perhaps satisfied he had been made, and knew we were going to ditch him before we got to our eventual destination.
It would be hard for him to guess where we were going, so that meant that he would arrange for someone to pick us up as we came into the city, or after.
After all, he knew what car I was travelling in, and he knew what we looked like. Which is why we stopped briefly in Naples and changed cars and clothes.
Then, by a quirk of fate, we saw him again, parked on the side of the road, near Pompei, waiting. He had been hidden behind several trucks, but at the last minute on of the trucks moved, and I saw the car.
And there he sat, not assuming we would be smart enough to change cars. What was it Rodby said from time to time? Good help is hard to find.
I had no doubt the moment he reported in, that other arrangements were not already underway. If they were smart, they’d know what my destination was, the home of the Burkehardt’s up in the hills that overlooked the Mediterranean, with billion-dollar views, nestled in among the exclusive and very expensive resorts.
Cecelia had booked on and it was where she had been relaxing in what time she had away from surveillance. She was at the hotel when I called, and we arrived there a half hour later.
I’d already forewarned her about my new shadow.
She met us down in the foyer, gave Francesca her ‘don’t mess with me, or else’ scowl, and then took us up to the room. It was amazing, and I would probably never be able to afford to stay in a room, or place, like it if I had to pay for it myself.
Francesca was suitably impressed. “How much had you got on your expense account. I can barely buy a sandwich with mine.”
“Normally we don’t either, but this is a ‘by all means available’ mission.”
She gave me a blank look, and I didn’t have the time or inclination to explain it to her. We would not be seeing her again after this.
“I trust your charges are behaving themselves selves and remaining anonymous,” I asked her, after sitting down with a bottle of wine and three glasses, and we’d all taken a separate chair each.
“No. You didn’t expect them to stay in the room, despite the fact someone is trying to kill them. I’m not their nursemaid. They want to get killed they can.”
I frowned at her. We were supposed to be keeping them alive. I suppose learning they were fakes didn’t help. Vittoria and Juliet weren’t, or at least I hope they weren’t, but the jury was still out on that.
I was going back to see them after I spoke to the Burkehardt matriarch. Or maybe I would talk to Juliet again. I couldn’t believe that everything I did seemed to involve her, and I was hoping the universe wasn’t trying to tell me something.
“Who are these people again,” Francesca asked.
“Didn’t you tell her?” Cecelia looked at me.
“No. Relevance?”
“None,” she looked at Francesca. “A woman called Vittoria who was a maid at the house I’ve been watching for that last day or so and her daughter Juliet are supposed to be keeping a low profile. It appears Juliet might be another direct descendant of the Count’s. I’m surprised your employers didn’t tell you of her?”
“They mentioned the possibility of another heir. They just didn’t know who or where she was. She’s here, you say?”
“Yes. I hope they’re safe, and, no, we’re not telling you where they are. Not until we know your employers, whom I’m assuming are the Burkehardt’s, are not trying to kill her.”
“I assure you that neither am I, and I work for the investigations company, not the Burkehardt’s. I can only take orders from my boss. He was very clear about that.”
“Good. I’d hate to have to shoot you because you lied.”
I could see she meant what she said. I hoped Francesca did too. She seemed to brush that threat aside.
“What about the countess?”
“That’s the bigger question, where is she? We’d like to know so if you have any ideas, please share. For this dynamic to work, you must be willing to share information. It’s not going to be a one-way street.”
“So, you don’t know where the countess is?”
Cecelia looked at me.
“Inquisitive little bugger, isn’t she? Don’t make it so obvious you want to know. Didn’t your boss tell you; that you must be subtle when approaching people like us, people with more experience, and less of a conscience.
Francesca looked at me.
“Don’t think I won’t stop you if you get in the way. You can stay while it is useful to us, but don’t ask questions you know we’re not going to give you answers for.”
“Then I’ll assume you don’t know where she is, other than most likely in Sorrento, waiting for the meeting.”
We visited the falls in winter, just after Christmas, when it was all but frozen.
The weather was freezing, it was snowing, and very icy to walk anywhere near the falls
Getting photos is a matter of how much you want to risk your safety.
I know I slipped and fell several times on the ice just below the snowy surface in pursuit of the perfect photograph. Alas, I don’t think I succeeded.
The mist was generated from both the waterfall and the low cloud. It was impossible not to get wet just watching the falls.
Of course, unlike the braver people, you could not get me into one of the boats that headed towards the falls. I suspect there might be icebergs and wasn’t going to tempt the fate of another Titanic, even on a lesser scale. The water would be freezing.
It could be said that of all the women one could meet, whether contrived or by sheer luck, what are the odds it would turn out to be the woman who was being paid a very large sum to kill you?
John Pennington is a man who may be lucky in business, but not so lucky in love. He has just broken up with Phillipa Sternhaven, the woman he thought was the one, but relatives and circumstances, and perhaps because she was a ‘princess’, may also have contributed to the end result.
So, what do you do when you are heartbroken?
That is a story that slowly unfolds, from the first meeting with his nemesis on Lake Geneva, all the way to a hotel room in Sorrento, where he learns the shattering truth.
What should have been solace after disappointment turns out to be something else entirely, and from that point, everything goes to hell in a handbasket.
He suddenly realises his so-called friend Sebastian has not exactly told him the truth about a small job he asked him to do, the woman he is falling in love with is not quite who she says she is, and he is caught in the middle of a war between two men who consider people becoming collateral damage as part of their business.
The story paints the characters, cleverly displaying all their flaws and weaknesses. The locations add to the story at times, taking me back down memory lane, especially to Venice, where, in those back streets, I confess it’s not all that hard to get lost.
All in all, a thoroughly entertaining story with, for once, a satisfying end.
The problem is, there are familiar faces and a question of who is a friend and who is foe made all the more difficult because of the enemy, if it was the enemy, simply because it didn’t look or sound or act like the enemy.
Now, it appears, his problems stem from another operation he participated in.
It took almost an hour to recover. Monroe didn’t come looking for me, so I think they knew it would take some time for me to get my legs back.
And it felt good to stand under the hot shower for twenty-odd minutes, letting the warmth of the water sink into my bones and clear my head.
And think.
How long had Bamfield have an eye on me? It was a question that sprung to mind the moment I saw him in the desert camp. I’d heard if you were transferred to one of his commands, at some point, it was not because it was another posting, it was because he wanted you there.
I’d been specially selected by Bamfield personally, out of the preliminary training camp, to further my military career under his oversight. I’d made it very clear from the outset that I was not interested in a commission, that I preferred the lower ranks. Officers were a different breed, and I’d not been cut from that cloth. Bamfield had admitted as much when I was first interviewed by him, and several other’s on what I soon discovered was his selection panel.
They were charged by him to find the best of the best.
And at that first interview, I’d disagreed with his assessment. I’d been in trouble before, and the military was the only place I could go if I didn’t want to serve a stretch in jail. Perhaps it was that innate ability of mine to seek out and become embroiled in trouble that caught his attention.
Certainly over time he and his instructors had honed those skills to a more refined set that, in civilian life, would set me up for a long stay in prison. It begged the question of what I was going to do with myself after the military had finished with me, a question I hadn’t really thought about until I’d been shunted to my last post in a training school of sorts.
I realised now that it had been Bamfield sidelining me until an operation crying out for my particular talents came along.
That disastrous operation with Treen.
Was it his? Or was it someone else who pulled it together, and he just provided the manpower. It had been the first major active offshore operation I’d been on. There’d been a few skirmishes along the way, but that was the first, and in a zone where I don’t think we were meant to be operating.
That had, I thought, been the sole purview of the CIA, and if I looked back on what had happened, there was no doubt the two agents we were supposed to pull out were CIA operatives, it had got too hot for them to stay, and they had clandestinely called for help.
It begged another question, was Bamfield CIA or working with the CIA, with or without the military hierarchy knowing?
The thing is, if it had been pulled off, as expected, no one would be any the wiser in that country, but once they found out, by whatever means it happened, the proverbial had hit the fan. It goes hand in hand with trusting people on the ground who were purportedly working against their country’s regime, for better or worse.
That country had a ‘friendly’ government, that had been ‘supported’ and then been deposed in the usual coup by the military, and, afterwards, the new hardliners got the benefit of those times when the country was a friendly and had military hardware and knowledge to wage war clandestinely or otherwise with its neighbours, given willingly.
Lessons hadn’t been learned after a particular middle east debacle. Maybe lessons would never be learned. Just look at the number of times had relations turned sour after a coup and agents had to hastily withdraw. It seems that my visit had been at the end of another of those ‘diplomatic’ missions that had gone wrong.
The drive down to Sorrento was interesting, not only for the stilted conversation with Francesca but the fact we were being followed. I found it hard to believe they didn’t trust her.
Or, it might be something, or someone, else.
I didn’t tell her. I didn’t want to scare her.
Later, we could have branched off to go to Naples or Pompei, I would certainly want to go to the latter, but time was of the essence. Instead, I drove directly to Sorrento, and it took about three and a half hours, with one small stop on the way for more coffee. And to check out the person who was following us.
I would have liked to look at the scenery but couldn’t.
I had another go at small talk. “Where do you come from?”
She looked round at me with a frown. Was I interrupting her sightseeing? She blinked a lot, so I assumed she was nervous. She didn’t have the red spots on her cheeks now, but I wondered it that was a sign she was angrier.
Then having decided, on what I didn’t know, she said, “Milan. I wanted to be a model, but it didn’t work out.”
“What happened?”
“It’s a long story.”
“We’ve got time.”
“My mother thought it best I get married to a nice man and have children. It seems women, to her, are meant only to be dutiful wives. I had no such aspirations.”
“Then what stopped you?”
“The awful man I picked to be my agent. Wanted me to sleep with him before he took me on. I taught him a lesson he’ll never forget.”
“How did you get to be an art historian?”
“I liked going to art galleries and looking at paintings. I wanted to know more, got into university, and it was fun.”
“And working as a private detective?”
“A friend of my father heard I knew something about old paintings and asked me to come and look at some that had been recovered from a robbery. He thought they were fakes, which they were. Offered me a job, gave me the training, just in case I wanted some variety, and here I am.”
“You just need to work on your surveillance skills and maintaining a low profile.”
“For such a so-called good agent, you were easy to pick up at the airport.”
“I wasn’t trying to hide. There are two ways I could have arrived, the first is so that no one knew I was coming. The second, make a splash, identify the surveillance, and then remove it.”
“And if two men come up to you in the street, throw you into a white van, and drive off…”
“Always be aware of your surroundings.”
“Is that a hint that I should have been looking for anything unusual while on this road trip. If it is a subtle dig, then I would not be surprised if you have already picked up the man in the yellow Fiat three cars back. He;’s been there for a while.”
“Not one of yours?”
“No. Why would there be?”
“Your boss still thinks you’re not clever enough to outwit me.”
“Or I’m smarter than he thinks I am. I’m with you, you’re not considering me a problem, I get to see and do everything you do, that’s pretty smart don’t you think?”
I had to admit if you were to put that spin on what she was doing, it was. I hoped her boss wasn’t an ungrateful sod.
Conversation over, she went back to her phone and worked on a crossword. She changed the radio station to classical music, and I didn’t change it back. It was Ravel’s Bolero, and for some reason it made me think of Cecelia.
“Do you think we should play cat and mouse with our tail?”
“Why would you want to do that.” She gave me a sideways glance that I interpreted as ‘Are you stupid?’
“Just say I have a strange sense of humour.”
With that, I slowed down and pulled off onto the side of the road, and being such a sudden move, my tail didn’t have time to do likewise, and if he did, he would have given himself away.
I watched him drive by, noting that he glanced in our direction as he passed.
I pulled out from the side onto the road after several cars passed, then settled in to follow him. I expected him to pull over and stop, just to see what I would do, but he didn’t.
“What exactly did you achieve?” she said.
“Nothing yet, but the day is young. Once we get to Sorrento, I will not be letting him know where we’re going.”
We visited the falls in winter, just after Christmas, when it was all but frozen.
The weather was freezing, it was snowing, and very icy to walk anywhere near the falls
Getting photos is a matter of how much you want to risk your safety.
I know I slipped and fell several times on the ice just below the snowy surface in pursuit of the perfect photograph. Alas, I don’t think I succeeded.
The mist was generated from both the waterfall and the low cloud. It was impossible not to get wet just watching the falls.
Of course, unlike the braver people, you could not get me into one of the boats that headed towards the falls. I suspect there might be icebergs and wasn’t going to tempt the fate of another Titanic, even on a lesser scale. The water would be freezing.
Williams’ Restaurant, East 65th Street, New York, Saturday, 8:00 p.m.
We met the Blaines at Williams’, a rather upmarket restaurant that the Blaines frequently visited and had recommended.
Of course, during the taxi ride there, Alison reminded me that with my new job, we would be able to go to many more places like Williams’. It was, at worst, more emotional blackmail, because as far as Alison was concerned, we were well on our way to posh restaurants, the Trump Tower Apartments, and the trappings of the ‘executive set’.
It would be a miracle if I didn’t strangle Elaine before the night was over. It was she who had filled Alison’s head with all this stuff and nonsense.
Aside from the half-frown, half-smile, Alison was looking stunning. It had been months since she had last dressed up, and she was especially wearing the dress I’d bought her for our 5th anniversary that cost a month’s salary. On her, it was worth it, and I would have paid more if I had to. She had adored it and me, for a week or so after.
For tonight, I think I was close to getting back on that pedestal.
She had the looks and figure to draw attention, the sort movie stars get on the red carpet, and when we walked into the restaurant, I swear there were at least five seconds of silence, and many more gasps.
I even had a sudden loss of breath earlier in the evening when she came out of the dressing room. Once more, I was reminded of how lucky I was that she had agreed to marry me. Amid all those self-doubts, I couldn’t believe she had loved me when there were so many others out there who were more appealing.
Elaine was out of her seat and came over just as the Head Waiter hovered into sight. She personally escorted Alison to the table, allowing me to follow like the Queen’s consort, while she and Alison basked in the admiring glances of the other patrons.
More than once, I heard the muted question, “Who is she?”
Jimmy stood, we shook hands, and then we sat together. It was not the usual boy, girl, boy, girl seating arrangement. Jimmy and I on one side and Elaine and Alison on the other.
The battle lines were drawn.
Jimmy was looking fashionable, with a permanent blade one beard, unkempt hair, and a designer dinner suit that looked like he’d slept in it. Alison insisted I wear a tuxedo, and I looked like the proverbial penguin or just a thinner version of Alfred Hitchcock.
The bow tie had been slightly crooked, but just before we stepped out, she had straightened it. And took the moment to look deeply into my soul. It was one of those moments when words were not necessary.
Then it was gone.
I relived it briefly as I sat and she looked at me. A penetrating look that told me to ‘behave’.
When we were settled, Elaine said, in that breathless, enthusiastic manner of hers when she was excited, “So, Harry, you are finally moving up.” It was not a question, but a statement.
I was not sure what she meant by ‘finally’, but I accepted it with good grace. Sometimes, Elaine was prone to using figures of speech I didn’t understand. I guessed she was talking about the new job. “It was supposed to be a secret.”
She smiled widely. “There are no secrets between Al and me, are there, Al?”
I looked at ‘Al’ and saw a brief look of consternation.
I was not sure Alison liked the idea of being called Al. I tried it once and was admonished. But it was interesting that her ‘best friend forever’ was allowed that distinction when I was not. It was, perhaps, another indicator of how far I’d slipped in her estimation.
Perhaps, I thought, it was a necessary evil. As I understood it, the Blaines were our mentors at the Trump Tower, because they didn’t just let ‘anyone’ in. I didn’t ask if the Blaines thought we were just ‘anyone’ before I got the job offer.
And then there was that look between Alison and Elaine, quickly stolen before Alison realised I was looking at both of them. I was out of my depth, in a place I didn’t belong, with people I didn’t understand. And yet, apparently, Alison did. I must have missed the memo.
“No,” Alison said softly, stealing a glance in my direction, “No secrets between friends.”
No secrets. Her look conveyed something else entirely.
The waiter brought champagne, Krug, and poured glasses for each of us. It was not the cheap stuff, and I was glad I brought a couple of thousand dollars with me. We were going to need it.
Then, a toast.
To a new job and a new life.
“When did you decide?” Elaine was effusive at the best of times, but with the champagne, it was worse.
Alison had a strange expression on her face. It was obvious she had told Elaine it was a done deal, even before I’d made up my mind. Perhaps she’d assumed I might be ‘refreshingly honest’ in front of Elaine, but it could also mean she didn’t really care what I might say or do.
Instead of consternation, she looked happy, and I realised it would be churlish, even silly, if I made a scene. I knew what I wanted to say. I also knew that it would serve little purpose provoking Elaine or upsetting Alison. This was not the time or the place. Alison had been looking forward to coming here, and I was not going to spoil it.
Instead, I said, smiling, “When I woke up this morning and found Alison missing. If she had been there, I would not have noticed the water stain on the roof above our bed, and decided there and then how much I hated the place.” I used my reassuring smile, the one I used with the customers when all hell was breaking loose, and the forest fire was out of control. “It’s the little things. They all add up until one day …” I shrugged. “I guess that one day was today.”
I saw an incredulous look pass between Elaine and Alison, a non-verbal question; perhaps, is he for real? Or, I told you he’d come around.
I had no idea the two were so close.
“How quaint,” Elaine said, which just about summed up her feelings towards me. I think, at that moment, I lost some brownie points. It was all I could come up with at short notice.
“Yes,” I added, with a little more emphasis than I wanted. “Alison was off to get some studying in with one of her friends.”
“Weren’t the two of you off to the Hamptons, a weekend with some friends?” Jimmy piped up and immediately got the ‘shut up, you fool’ look that cut that line of conversation dead. Someone forgot to feed Jimmy his lines.
It was followed by the condescending smile from Elaine, and “I need to powder my nose. Care to join me, Al?”
A frown, then a forced smile for her new best friend. “Yes.”
I watched them leave the table and head in the direction of the restroom, looking like they were in earnest conversation. I thought ‘Al’ looked annoyed, but I could be wrong.
I had to say Jimmy looked more surprised than I did.
There was that odd moment of silence between us, Jimmy still smarting from his death stare, and for me, the Alison and Elaine show. I was quite literally gob-smacked.
I drained my champagne glass, gathering some courage and turned to him. “By the way, we were going to have a weekend away, but this legal tutorial thing came up. You know Alison is doing her law degree.”
He looked startled when he realised I had spoken. He was looking intently at a woman several tables over from us, one who’d obviously forgotten some basic garments when getting dressed. Or perhaps it was deliberate. She’d definitely had some enhancements done.
He dragged his eyes back to me. “Yes. Elaine said something or other about it. But I thought she said the tutor was out of town and it had been postponed until next week. Perhaps I got it wrong. I usually do.”
“Perhaps I’ve got it wrong.” I shrugged as the dark thoughts started swirling in my head again. “This week or next, what does it matter?”
Of course, it mattered to me, and I digested what he said with a sinking heart. It showed there was another problem between Alison and me; she might have been telling me lies. If what he said was true and I had no reason to doubt him, where was she going tomorrow morning, and had she really been with a friend studying today?
We poured some more champagne, had a drink, then he asked, “This promotion thing, what’s it worth?”
“Trouble, I suspect. Definitely more money, but less time at home.”
“Oh,” raised eyebrows. Obviously, the women had not talked about the job in front of him, or, at least, not all the details. “You sure you want to do that?”
At last, the voice of reason. “Me? No.”
“Yet you accepted the job.”
I sucked in a breath or two while I considered whether I could trust him. Even if I couldn’t, I could see my ship was sinking, so it wouldn’t matter what I told him, or what Elaine might find out from him. “Jimmy, between you and me, I haven’t as yet decided one way or another. To be honest, I won’t know until I go up to Barclay’s office and he asks me the question.”
“Barclay?”
“My boss.”
“Elaine’s doing a job for a Barclay who recently moved into the tower a block down from us. I thought I recognised the name.”
“How did Elaine get the job?”
“Oh, Alison put him onto her.”
“When?”
“A couple of months ago. Why?”
I shrugged and tried to keep a straight face, while my insides were churning up like the wake of a supertanker. I felt sick, faint, and wanted to die all at the same moment. “Perhaps she said something about it, but it didn’t connect at the time. Too busy with work, I expect. I think I seriously need to get away for a while.”
I could hardly breathe, my throat was constricted, and I knew I had to keep it together. I could see Elaine and Alison coming back, so I had to calm down. I sucked in some deep breaths and put my ‘manage a complete and utter disaster’ look on my face.
And I had to change the subject, quickly, so I said, “Jimmy, Elaine told Alison, who told me, you were something of a guru of the cause and effects of the global economic meltdown. Now, I have a couple of friends who have been expounding this theory …”
Like flicking a switch, I launched into the well-worn practice of ‘running a distraction’, like at work when we needed to keep the customer from discovering the truth. It was one of the things I was good at, taking over a conversation and pushing it in a different direction. It was salvaging a good result from an utter disaster, and if ever there was a time that it was required, it was right here, right now.
When Alison sat down and looked at me, she knew something had happened between Jimmy and me. I might have looked pale or red-faced, or angry or disappointed, but it didn’t matter. If that didn’t seal the deal for her, the fact that I took over the dining engagement did. She knew well enough that the only time I did that was when everything was about to go to hell in a handbasket. She’d seen me in action before and had been suitably astonished.
But I got into gear, kept the champagne flowing and steered the conversation, as much as one could from a seasoned professional like Elaine, and, I think, in Jimmy’s eyes, he saw the battle lines and knew who took the crown on points. Neither Elaine nor Jimmy suspected anything, and if the truth be told, I had improved my stocks with Elaine. She was at times both surprised and interested, even willing to take a back seat.
Alison, on the other hand, tried poking around the edges, and, once when Elaine and Jimmy had got up to have a cigarette outside, questioned me directly. I chose to ignore her and pretend nothing had happened, rather than tell her how much I was enjoying the evening.
She had her ‘secrets’. I had mine.
At the end of the evening, when I got up to go to the bathroom, I was physically sick from the pent-up tension and the implications of what Jimmy had told me. It took a while for me to pull myself together; so long, in fact, that Jimmy came looking for me. I told him I’d drunk too much champagne, and he seemed satisfied with that excuse. When I returned, both Alison and Elaine noticed how pale I was, but neither made any comment.
It was a sad way to end what was supposed to be a delightful evening, which, to a large degree, it was for the other three. But I had achieved what I set out to do: to play them at their own game, watching the deception once I knew there was one, as warily as a cat watches its prey.
I had also discovered Jimmy’s real calling; a professor of economics at the same University Alison was doing her law degree. It was no surprise in the end, on a night where surprises abounded, that the world could really be that small.
We parted in the early hours of the morning, a taxi whisking us back to the Lower East Side, another taking the Blaines back to the Upper West Side. But, in our case, as Alison reminded me, it would not be for much longer. She showed concern for my health and asked me what was wrong. It took all the courage I could muster to tell her it was most likely something I ate and the champagne, and that I would be fine in the morning.
She could see quite plainly it was anything other than what I told her, but she didn’t pursue it. Perhaps she just didn’t care what I was playing at.
And yet, after everything that had happened, once inside our ‘palace’, the events of the evening were discarded, like her clothing, and she again reminded me of what we had together in the early years before the problems had set in.
It left me confused and lost.
I couldn’t sleep because my mind had now gone down that irreversible path that told me I was losing her, that she had found someone else, and that our marriage was in its last death throes.
And now I knew it had something to do with Barclay.
How many of us have skeletons in the closet that we know nothing about? The skeletons we know about generally stay there, but those we do not, well, they have a habit of coming out of left field when we least expect them.
In this case, when you see your photo on a TV screen with the accompanying text that says you are wanted by every law enforcement agency in Europe, you’re in a state of shock, only to be compounded by those same police, armed and menacing, kicking the door down.
I’d been thinking about this premise for a while after I discovered my mother had a boyfriend before she married my father, a boyfriend who was, by all accounts, the man who was the love of her life.
Then, in terms of coming up with an idea for a story, what if she had a child by him that we didn’t know about, which might mean I had a half-brother or sister I knew nothing about. It’s not an uncommon occurrence from what I’ve been researching.
There are many ways of putting a spin on this story.
Then, in the back of my mind, I remembered a story an acquaintance at work was once telling us over morning tea, that a friend of a friend had a mother who had a twin sister and that each of the sisters had a son by the same father, without each knowing of the father’s actions, both growing up without the other having any knowledge of their half brother, only to meet by accident on the other side of the world.
It was an encounter that in the scheme of things might never have happened, and each would have remained oblivious of the other.
For one sister, the relationship was over before she discovered she was pregnant, and therefore had not told the man he was a father. It was no surprise the relationship foundered when she discovered he was also having a relationship with her sister, a discovery that caused her to cut all ties with both of them and never speak to either from that day.
It’s a story with more twists and turns than a country lane!
The problem is, there are familiar faces and a question of who is a friend and who is foe made all the more difficult because of the enemy, if it was the enemy, simply because it didn’t look or sound or act like the enemy.
Now, it appears, his problems stem from another operation he participated in.
I could truthfully say I was blinded by the light. Whoever my next visitor was, came in and turned on the lights just about blinding me after the ethereal darkness I’d been in for several hours.
Of course, it had to be Lallo.
“I trust you had an uneventful journey and got plenty of rest.” He seemed to be in what might be called a jovial mood.
Perhaps they were going to let him use his instruments of torture on me now we had arrived. I was sure that the Geneva Convention, if we were still a signatory to it, was left outside the door to this building.
“Well enough. Whose idea was it to put me in casts and make me think I had been severely injured?”
“I doubt that would be of interest to you now. Just be thankful it wasn’t purposely done to you. I had been an option, but Colonel Bamfield apparently has you in mind for a job he needs doing, so we opted for subterfuge. You can thank us later.”
Or not at all. I was right. Bamfield, or they, whoever they were, needed me alive. And in one piece. I was not sure I liked the sound of that.
“More questions?”
“No, not at the moment. I’m going to have a chat to the source, you remember me telling you we were bringing him over with us. He was not so lucky as you, as you’ll soon discover. I want you to sit in on the session, I want you to listen and assess what you think about what he tells us.”
“In what capacity?”
“Just listen. I’m told that you have conducted a few interrogations, and have a sense about the target, whether they’re lying or telling the truth. We won’t be using force initially, so let’s hope he opts to tell the truth.”
So did I. The last thing I wanted to see was a messy interrogation. Those I’d been on were relatively simple. A man at the end of a gun usually told the truth or felt a great deal of pain and suffering if he didn’t.
It had never been my favourite job, which is why I’d not done very many, and I had hoped I’d never see Lallo at his worst. Perhaps, then, that was the point of this exercise. They were not finished with me, so he’d make an example out of someone else, letting me know the extent to which he would go, thus making me more co-operative.
A bit pointless, really, because I didn’t know very much. Maybe the Colonel forgot to tell him that.
“There are clothes in the cupboard over there,” he nodded towards the corner of the room where there were two doors. One I figured was the bathroom. “Clean yourself up, get dressed, and let Monroe know when you’re ready. Oh, and take it easy for the first few minutes, the serum we gave you tends to make your legs turn to jelly when you first try to stand up. It’ll pass. Just be careful.”
I was literally waiting for her to tell me she hadn’t anything to wear for our little trip, but instead said she would need to take a few things. She added, in the same breath, that she would tell her bosses whatever they needed to hear.
I didn’t think that included that I’d take a shine to her. I don’t think she quite knew what that meant. At any rate, she had to go home, and I had to head to the car, and on the way, call Cecelia.
She wasn’t going to believe half of what I had to tell her.
I gave her the address of the parking garage and told her I would see her there in two hours. I seriously doubted I would see her again.
Back on the train, I called Cecelia. She answered straight away but with a noncommittal “Yes?” Perhaps she was guarding against the phone falling into the wrong hands. Hers and two others were the only numbers on speed dial.
“It’s me.” I didn’t qualify ‘me’ she would know.
“Where are you?”
“Just leaving Rome after seeing the countess’s solicitor.”
“Did you get a voice recording from Rodby?”
“Yes.”
“Are you suitably surprised?”
“That we only get half, or in this case, a quarter of the story. I didn’t see that coming, though I had an inkling that Martha wasn’t Martha, but then I wouldn’t recognise my mother some days.”
“Who’s that woman pretending to be the countess?”
“Anyone’s guess. Did you get them into the hotel?”
“And left them to it. I’ve been at the Sorrento mansion, waiting for the old lady. The two boys are here, Alessandro and Fabio.”
“Given what we know about the fake Countess, you might want to stay away until I get there. I’m not sure where Vittoria and Juliet fit into the puzzle yet, or whether the fake Countess is keeping them nearby for other reasons, but I’m sure the two of them can take care of themselves.”
As for the information the solicitor gave me, I would save that until I saw her.
“Just one other wrinkle, I picked up some surveillance, and now I have one of their team with me. She’ll be coming to Sorrento. I believe she’s working for a PI who’s working for the Burkehardt’s who want to know where the countess is. They would want to know before the sealing of the inheritance, so extra eyes and ears might be useful.”
“She could be trouble.”
“Which I’m sure you’ll deal with like I will. I’ll be there in three to four hours. Have we got another hotel? I don’t fancy staying with the others?”
“Yes. I text you the name. Take care.”
I waited in the café near the parking garage, and three minutes before the two hours were up I saw her getting out of a taxi, and leaning in to talk to someone who had accompanied her.
A husband, or a boss?
The taxi drove off and she looked around, then saw me sitting at the table on the street. Not the safest place to be, but needs must.
I waited until she sat down and called the waiter over to order her coffee.
“Your supervisor in the car?”
“He insisted on coming with me. I told him the truth, rather than what you said, and he wasn’t pleased. However, at that moment, he said, our interests are aligned, so I would be better off staying with you. At least then if you find the countess, so will we.
“Did you bring a gun?”
“What. Wait. Why would I? A gun?”
She didn’t answer the question, so it was likely the boss just gave her one. I wasn’t going to search her handbag right then, but maybe later. It also raised a small red flag in my head, what if she was more than just a ‘pretty face’?
I shrugged. “If you have, remember don’t point it at me. I tend to get a little annoyed at people who do stupid things like that, with very bad consequences. For them. I hope you like 80s rock. if you don’t then you only have to endure it for about three hours.”
She smiled wanly. “I’d rather not be going, but we don’t always get what we want.”
