by Stuart Woods
—
Room service arrived, and Stone approved of Hedy’s choices. They were on coffee when Stone’s phone rang.
“Hello?”
“It’s Mike. I’ve made some calls in Rome, and I don’t like what I’m hearing. I want to get you out of your hotel and into an apartment. I’ve got someone making calls about that now.”
“Hang on, Mike.” He turned to Hedy. “My friend Mike Freeman, who’s handling our security, wants us out of the hotel.”
“How about my apartment?”
“Does anyone besides you and me know about it?”
“A couple of people in New York.” She gave him the address.
Stone went back to Mike. “I’ve got an apartment in the Via Stelletto, Pantheon district.”
“All right, get packed. I’ll have somebody there in half an hour to get you out. Don’t check out of the hotel—I’ll deal with that.”
“All right,” Stone said. He hung up. “Let’s get packed.”
—
Half an hour later there was a soft knock at the door.
“Who is it?” Stone asked.
“I’m from Mike Freeman.”
Stone opened the door to find a large man in a dark suit; he had a hotel trolley with him. They gave him their luggage and followed him to a service elevator, then out a service exit to a waiting van with a driver. Stone gave them the address.
“I know it,” the driver said. “It has a courtyard, which is good for us.”
“There were two men in a car out front at the hotel,” the big man said. “I think they were waiting for you. Don’t worry, we’ll lose them.”
They followed what seemed to Stone a torturous route. As they turned into the Via Stelletto, the big man got out of the van, while the driver continued into the street and turned into the courtyard. “He’s just making sure nobody’s on our tail,” the driver said. The big man rejoined them, and they got their luggage and the two of them into a tiny elevator, while the big man ran up the four flights of stairs.
He didn’t seem winded when they arrived. “Do you mind if I have a look around before you go in?” he asked.
“Help yourself,” Hedy said, unlocking the door.
He disappeared inside, then returned a couple of minutes later. “It’s good,” he said, and he took their bags inside. “Nobody can see into the place, and the terrace overlooks the courtyard, not the street. I couldn’t have picked a better place myself.”
Stone had a look around: there was a large kitchen, two bedrooms and baths, and a comfortable living room, plus a large terrace accessed through French doors. “Very nice,” he said.
“My name’s Hal,” the big man said. He handed Stone two cell phones. “One for each of you. Use them for outgoing calls. You can use your own phone for incoming ones. I’ll be in or around the courtyard downstairs tonight. A guy named Ernie will relieve me in the morning, and he’ll check in with you. My phone number is speed dial one, his is two, three will get you Mr. Freeman, in New York.” He took Stone aside and handed him a compact 9mm handgun and a spare magazine. “It’s loaded, and there’s one in the chamber,” he said.
“Thank you for your help.”
“It’s what we do. Good night.”
He left and Stone went into the bedroom, where Hedy was unpacking his things and putting them into a huge wardrobe on one side of the room. He put the gun in the bedside table drawer.
“Now,” she said, finishing her work and handing him a terrycloth robe. “You’re my guest.”
12
Stone woke to an unfamiliar sound: there was a light knocking far away, and it began to increase in volume. He got into his robe, took the gun from the bedside table drawer, and walked through the living room and the kitchen to the front door. “Who is it?” he shouted, before opening the door.
“Ernie.”
Stone unlatched the door and found a smaller version of Hal there.
“Mike Freeman sent me. I just wanted you to know I’m on the job,” he said.
Hedy appeared from behind Stone, pulling on a sweater over jeans. “I’ve got to go out for breakfast stuff,” she said.
“Walk her to the store and back, will you?” Stone asked Ernie.
“Sure thing. You gonna be okay?”
Stone nodded.
“Hey,” Ernie said, pointing to the edge of the front door. “Give me your door key.”
Hedy handed it to him. He inserted and turned it. Six bolts emerged from the door. “Look at that,” he said. “It’s like a safe: heavy steel and six bolts that go into a steel jamb. Nobody’s coming in here without a bazooka.”
“Good to know,” Stone said. He had never seen a door like that, either.
Hedy let herself out.
“Lock it from outside,” Stone said, and she did.
Stone got a shower and a shave, and by the time he was out of the bathroom, Hedy had come back and had scrambled eggs and Italian sausage ready.
“Really good,” Stone said. “You know, there’s something very familiar about your name, and I can’t place it.”
“Hedy Eva Maria Kiesler? It’s the real name of the actress from the forties, Hedy Lamarr. She’s Viennese, as was my father, and he claimed some sort of kinship, a distant cousin or something. The name is a family joke.”
“‘I am Tondelayo,’” Stone quoted. “That was her famous line from White Cargo. She was very beautiful.”
“Very smart, too. She invented some sort of torpedo that was used in World War Two. She had several patents, I think.”
“So you skipped the mechanical talent and went straight for the artistic?”
“Something like that. I can pick a lock, though, if it’s not too complicated.”
“Good—you never know when you’ll need a lock picked.”
“I want to start to work today,” she said. “Will that disturb you?”
“No more than you usually disturb me. There are a lot of books in the living room. I’ll see if I can find something in English.”
—
After breakfast, Hedy set up her easel on the terrace, and Stone found a collection of Mark Twain pieces. They were both fully occupied until noon, then they went out to look for some lunch, with Ernie a dozen paces back, watching everything like a predatory bird.
They found a workingman’s tiny café a few doors up the street and had some lasagna, then took a stroll around the neighborhood. There were a couple of dozen restaurants within a five-minute walk, and the Pantheon, the ancient pagan Roman temple that featured the world’s largest unsupported dome, a ten-minute walk away. They continued to the Piazza Navona, with its three Bernini fountains and a zillion tourists.
They were back at the apartment by three, and Stone’s phone was ringing.
“Hello?”
“It’s Mike. Everything okay?”
“Yes. Your guys got us out and to the apartment safely, and Hal approves of our security here.”
“My people made the transition at Marcel’s offices and apartment on schedule this morning. The Italian guards are out, and I’ve got more people arriving about now from our Paris office.”
“You said last night that you were hearing things. What things?”
“My people are hearing that the local Mob have taken a very big interest in Marcel and you. They apparently see the new hotel as a gold mine for them in bribes and extortion. My tech guy went through the security system and computers at Marcel’s office and found the phones bugged, and the computer network breached. All that has been taken care of, and new defenses have been installed.”
“Do you think you can get a message to Leo Casselli?”
“Probably. What do you want me to tell him?”
“Just let him know that we’re not going to play his game, that he’d be smart to leave us alone.”
“I think the disconnection of his electronic surveillance will tell him that. In the meantime, you need to be on guard for some sort of more physical approach. Beware of getting yanked into a car, and don’t either of you go out without Ernie or Hal.”
“Are we doing enough? Anything we’re missing?”
“I’ve spoken to Dino, who’s spoken to somebody in the Rome police, and I think that’s all we can do, until they make another move.”
“Okay, I’ll keep you posted on what’s going on at this end.”
“Same from here.” They hung up, and Stone went back to his Mark Twain.
—
As darkness was falling that evening, and they were contemplating dinner at a restaurant, Stone’s second phone rang.
“It’s Ernie,” he said. “Lock that fucking bank vault door of yours.” He hung up.
13
Stone locked the door.
“What’s up?” Hedy asked.
“I don’t know, Ernie said to lock the door.”
“Would you like a drink?” she asked.
“Not right now. I want to find out what’s happening, first.” There was a sharp metallic rapping on the door, and Stone walked over to it. “Who is it?”
“Hal.”
Stone unlocked the door, and Hal walked in.
“We made a couple of bad guys in the neighborhood and watched them for a few minutes. They appeared to be searching, and they finally got into a car and left.”
“That’s good. Do you think they know we’re in the neighborhood?”
“Possibly.”
“How could they?”
“Have you used your own phone today?”
“No, I used the one you gave me.”
“Let me see your iPhone.”
Stone handed it over.
Hal removed the SIM card and handed it to Stone. “Don’t put this into the phone until you want to use it.” He did the same to Hedy’s iPhone. “It could be that they picked up on one or both of your phones when you were at the Hassler and tracked them to this street but weren’t able to localize on the apartment. This is a densely populated neighborhood, and even with a signal they might be unable to zero in on you. For instance, even if they got the building right, they wouldn’t be able to tell what floor you’re on. The good news is, we were able to put a tracker on their car, so if it returns, we’ll get a heads-up on our receiving equipment.”
“That’s good to know.”
“What are your dinner plans?”
“We haven’t made any.”
“I don’t want you to get cabin fever. There’s a nice place directly across the street from you, with a name something like Italian for white cat. Try that.”
“Okay.”
“Somebody will have eyes on you all the time, and if we spot anybody, we’ll handle it. We’ll call you if any action on your part is needed. Don’t carry the gun—somebody might spot it, and we don’t want to cause a fuss.”
“As you wish.”
“I’d go to dinner no later than seven,” Hal said. “That will guarantee you a table, and the place will be crowded later.”
Hal let himself out of the apartment, and Stone locked the door behind him.
“How about that drink now?” Hedy asked.
“What are my choices?”
“Is Knob Creek okay?”
“Where on earth did you get that?”
“I found it in a shop down the street, amazingly enough. They had two bottles, and I bought both of them.” She poured them each a drink.
“I didn’t know you were a bourbon drinker,” he said.
“I’m a Georgia girl, little town called Delano. We didn’t even have a liquor store, but we managed.”
“How did Arthur Steele become your stepfather?”
“My mother moved to New York when I was in college, and she got a job at an insurance agency. She met Arthur there, when he came to see her boss. Next thing I knew, she was married to him and living on Fifth Avenue. They invited me up for Thanksgiving, and that was the first time I met him.”
“Was it love at first sight for the two of you?”
“No, but we got along. He was nice enough to give me a trust fund, the income from which has allowed me to be a painter. It took me ten years to start making a living from selling my work.”
“Arthur must have a soft spot for you.”
“He has a soft spot for my mother, and whatever it cost him, it was worth it not to have her worrying about whether I was starving. Arthur is a pragmatic man.”
—
At seven they walked across the street to the little restaurant, and it turned out to be very good.
“I guess I’m going to have to get used to having Italian food every night,” Hedy said.
“That’s no strain for me,” Stone said. “I love Italian food.” There were no spirits available, so he ordered a bottle of Amarone.
Stone’s phone rang. “Hello?”
“It’s Hal. The car we bugged is back in the neighborhood. Be prepared to leave cash on the table and leave, if necessary.”
“Okay.” Stone saw Ernie walk past a window near their table, and he shifted his chair to the other side, so as to face the street.
“Anything wrong?” Hedy asked.
“Not yet,” Stone said.
14
Ernie appeared in the restaurant window again. He was looking up the street and held up a hand as if to say, “Stop.”
Then he turned, looked directly at Stone, and beckoned.
Stone left cash on the table, took Hedy’s hand, and towed her to the door. Ernie walked up. “Just one second,” he said, looking up the street again. “When I say go, walk quickly across the street and under the arch.”
Stone waited patiently.
“What’s happening?” Hedy asked.
“I’ll tell you in a minute.”
“Go,” Ernie said.
Stone took Hedy’s hand and hurried her across the street and into the courtyard. When they were on the elevator, Hedy demanded information again.
“Ernie and Hal saw someone who made them uncomfortable,” Stone said. “They wanted us to cross the street without being seen.”
“Okay,” Hedy said. “Is this how we have to live our lives for the next three weeks?”
“You don’t have to. If you don’t want to go back to New York, I think it’s best if I move to a hotel for the duration, whatever that is. Or, if you like, we can go to Paris until things cool off here.”
“Why Paris?”
“Because I have a house there.”
“God, how many houses do you have?”
“It’s a weakness of mine—I like having houses in places I like.”
“But not Rome?”
“I haven’t spent much time here for a long time. In fact, until this trip, I had never spent much more than a long weekend here.”
He let them into the apartment and locked the door behind them.
“I thought you were just an attorney,” Hedy said, “but attorneys don’t make enough money to have houses all over the place.”
“Some attorneys do. I’m also an investor in two privately owned corporations that make money.”
“Is one of them the hotel business?”
“Yes.”
“What’s the other?”
“Strategic Services, who are providing our security.”
“All right, tell me where I would be safe.”
Stone thought about that. “Hawaii.”
“Why Hawaii?”
“It’s a long way from here, and it doesn’t have a Mafia that I’m aware of.”
“Am I safer in Hawaii than in Paris?”
“Paris is just as safe.”
“All right, le
t’s go to Paris—at least I can paint there.”
There was a rap on the Great Iron Door.
“Who is it?”
“Hal.”
Stone opened the door. “We’re going to need a ride to Ciampino Airport tomorrow morning, early, before the Mafia wakes up.”
“Okay,” Hal said. “I’ll have a car here. What time?”
“Eight o’clock should be okay.”
“Done. Everything okay here?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll have a look around.”
“Go ahead.”
Hal disappeared into the apartment; after a moment he came back and crooked a finger at Stone.
Stone followed him into the bedroom. The words Go Home! were written on the bedspread in what looked a lot like blood.
Stone whipped the bedspread off the bed, so that Hedy wouldn’t see it. “Make it seven AM for the car,” he said.
—
While they were having a very early breakfast the following morning, Stone called Pat Frank’s office in New York.
“I’d like the airplane out of the hangar, full tanks, file for Le Bourget at eight AM,” he said to the person on duty.
“Roger wilco,” the young woman said. “Your flight plan will be waiting for you at Sky Services. Do you require catering?”
“No, thanks. Just ask them to be sure the airplane has been topped off with fuel. They were supposed to do it on arrival, but be sure.”
“Certainly. We recommend Landmark Aviation at Le Bourget. Would you like hangarage there?”
“Yes, and fueling on arrival.”
“And a car and driver into Paris?”
“Yes, please.”
“Please let us know if we can be of further help.”
“I’ll do that.” Stone hung up and turned to Hedy. “If you like, you can leave your painting equipment here, and I’ll buy you replacements in Paris.”
“Good idea. I won’t have to pack everything.”
—
They beat the rush hour traffic out of Rome and were at the airport in half an hour. Stone’s Citation CJ3+ awaited on the ramp. Hal loaded their luggage while Stone did the preflight inspection.