by Jayne Castel
He reopened his laptop, signaling their conversation had ended. Fuming, Sabrina stalked out of his office and pulled the door shut with a hard thud.
Chapter Seven
Sabrina accessed her email and tensed. There was an email from Helen Bellini sitting in her inbox. She’d known this was coming—even so she felt a surge of irritation.
Can’t she just let me do my job.
Sabrina drained her cup of strong black coffee and put off reading the email. Sabrina raked her fingers through her hair and glanced across her apartment. It was dark outside; night had settled in an indigo curtain over Rome. It was her day off and she had spent most of the day on the internet doing research. Her eyes burned from staring at the computer screen.
Deciding she couldn’t delay the inevitable forever, she opened the email from Helen Bellini. The woman’s messages were gradually getting ruder. This one was her most brusque yet.
Sabrina,
You’ve been in Rome over two weeks now. I need you to forward me EVERYTHING you’ve discovered so far. I need concrete details about this woman Adriano’s been seeing. Have you found out anything else about her? Don’t you at least have some photos? Don’t you have any other leads?
I sent you in undercover so that you could gather evidence. That means you’re going to have to start taking risks.
That’s what I’m paying you for.
HB
Sabrina stared at the screen. How dare she. The woman had more or less called her incompetent. She had no love for Adriano Bellini, but she was rapidly going off his ex-wife. Really, they had been the perfect match. Both needed a lesson in manners.
She hadn’t sent Helen any photos of Adriano’s mystery woman—and she didn’t intend to until she got evidence to back it up. Her client would just have to wait. Sabrina’s background as a police officer had taught her the importance of hard evidence. She wasn’t about to lose her ethics for this woman.
Sabrina closed her laptop. Enough for today. It felt as if the walls of her studio apartment were closing in on her. She needed to get out, stretch her legs, and think.
Outside, it was another balmy evening so Sabrina slipped her feet into sandals. Deep in thought, her handbag slung across her front, she wandered aimlessly away from her apartment.
After too much coffee and a day chained to the computer, she felt anxious and tense. Even the timeless beauty of Rome’s historic center did not relax her. Her thoughts turned inward as she mulled over the events of the past two weeks.
She wasn’t getting anywhere with the mystery woman but over the last couple of days she’d realized she had another lead. Daniele was behaving stranger with each passing day. Her instincts told her that the young man had got himself into trouble. She’d also noticed his relationship with Adriano had grown strained.
What are they up to?
Despite that it was Monday—usually the quietest evening in the center—crowds of locals and tourists had converged on the network of tangled streets. Sabrina took a walk through Piazza Navona, and watched a busker playing Ed Sheeran on a battered acoustic guitar. Then, she left the square behind and navigated the narrow streets leading to the Pantheon.
The magnificent building, which had once been an ancient Roman temple, glowed in the dusk. Its regal, pockmarked, colonnaded façade stood guard over the packed square below. For a moment, Sabrina forgot about the case and craned her neck up at it. The sheer age and majesty of the building awed her.
What stories it could tell …
She wandered across the piazza, ignoring the touts that called out to her from restaurants, and took a narrow street away from the Pantheon. Numerous ice-cream shops flanked this street. Sabrina entered one and bought a small cup filled with creamy zabaione gelato, topped with whipped cream. It was a type of rich eggnog, flavored with marsala, and delicious; Sabrina made a note of the gelateria—she’d make sure she returned there.
Her mood lightening slightly, she ambled through the network of streets behind the Pantheon and savored her gelato. There were a few restaurants tucked away in here, and Sabrina was just passing one of them, when she halted midstride.
There, seated a few feet back from the window, was Adriano Bellini and his mystery woman.
They were deep in conversation, oblivious to the world around them. Two plates of pasta sat untouched in front of the couple. Sabrina shrank back into the shadows, placed her unfinished tub on the ground, and fumbled around in her bag. Luckily, she always carried her camera with her. Deftly, Sabrina disabled the flash. The last thing she needed now was to draw attention to herself.
Oblivious to the fact she was watching them, Adriano and the woman appeared to be discussing something intense.
Click. Sabrina took a photo of them.
The woman was agitated. Her face was tense, and she waved her hands around dramatically while Adriano listened.
Click. Click.
The woman looked near tears, her expression suddenly distraught. Adriano reached out, placed his hand over hers, and spoke a few words.
Click. Click.
His face was concerned, all trace of masculine arrogance gone. His words had the desired effect, for the woman relaxed and dipped her chin, nodding.
Click. Click.
Sabrina would have given anything to have a microphone sitting under their table, to know what they were discussing. Once again, these photos weren’t much use without further proof.
It was risky standing here. The street was dimly lit, especially compared to the restaurant, but all either of them had to do was peer through the glass into the shadows and they would spot her. Sabrina lingered there only a short while longer, risking only a few more photos. Then, she edged back the way she’d come.
***
Sabrina cleared a table, her gaze taking in the restaurant floor as she did so. It was getting late. La Pasta D’Orata was starting to empty out.
The moment she had been planning for all week had come. A few photos weren’t enough. Helen Bellini needed evidence, and Sabrina was determined to get it for her.
Returning to the pass, she saw Adriano was busy instructing the new sous-chef.
It has to be now.
Leaving Halina and Roberto working front of house, Sabrina took the hallway to the back of the restaurant. She sometimes came out back, as the staff toilet was located here. Still, it wouldn’t be long before she was missed.
Sabrina’s palms felt clammy and her heart was racing as if she’d just finished a sprint.
At the end of the hallway, there was a doorway on the left, leading to the staff cloakroom and toilet; one straight ahead, leading to the delivery area; and a door on the right, to Adriano’s office.
Sabrina tried the door and, as she’d suspected, it was unlocked. Adriano and Daniele came and went from this office during the evening and she had noticed they only locked it last thing, before closing up the restaurant.
Inside, they’d left the small window open. It was barred, preventing any would-be burglar from climbing inside, while still letting in the sounds of the Roman night: the clatter of a scooter over cobbles, the clink of crockery being cleared away for the evening, and the rise and fall of voices.
Sabrina gently closed the door behind her and inhaled deeply. Her nervousness subsided and excitement quickened in her belly. This part of the job could be fun—provided she didn’t get caught.
Chapter Eight
Sabrina reached into the pocket of her apron and retrieved her Bluetooth headset. The earpiece, which she’d paired with her smartphone, would be small enough to hide in the office and allow her to spy on Adriano and Daniele’s conversations.
She just had to make sure they never found it.
Two strides took her across the office to the desk. Adriano kept it tidy. Except for a closed laptop, there was only a notepad and pen on the polished surface. Opting for the only viable option available, she slid the earpiece inside a desk calendar sitting near the wall.
Step one com
pleted, she withdrew her phone from her apron and checked the battery. It was at ninety percent—long enough to last until the end of the shift.
Aware that the minutes were ticking by, Sabrina rifled through the notepad and found it empty. She ripped off the top page, folded it in half, and pocketed it. Later, she would see if she could use a pencil to shade the blank page and bring out the contrast on the writing impressions. Just maybe, he had written something incriminating there.
Sabrina went to the rubbish bin and peeked in—it was empty.
She opened the laptop, just in case it wasn’t secured, but closed it again when the screen requested a password to log in.
No luck there.
Sabrina deftly opened the desk drawers. Like the top of the desk, they were all well-ordered. The first few yielded nothing more than stationery—paper-clips, pens, and post-it notes. The rest held paperwork for the restaurant. There was nothing personal. Nothing.
Frustration welled up inside Sabrina. The man spends more time here than at home—he has to keep personal stuff in his office.
Leaving the desk, she started to search the neatly stacked shelving that lined the walls. There was a lot of paperwork here, too much for her to sort through now. She also discovered a safe, built into the wall and screened from view inside a cupboard. Unsurprisingly, the safe was locked tight.
Sabrina clenched her jaw and glanced around her. She was never likely to get another chance to search in here. Time was running out. Any moment now, someone would notice her absence—then they’d come looking for her.
She had to get out.
Carefully, she cracked open the door and peeked out. The hallway was empty. She slipped out and clicked the door closed behind her.
Sabrina had taken a few steps back down the hallway when Adriano Bellini stepped through the doorway at the far end and strode towards her. His expression was grim, his handsome face set in austere lines.
He stopped, blocking her escape route. “Roberto said you disappeared ten minutes ago. Where have you been?”
Sabrina took a deep breath and plastered a smile across her face.
God, I hope it’s not written all over my face. Don’t tell me he’s got security cameras in his office I don’t know about.
Sorry, Signor Bellini. I didn’t feel well. I’ve just been sitting down for a few minutes in the cloak room.”
Adriano scrutinized her face, his dark brows knitting together.
“You are pale,” he admitted. “What’s the matter?”
“I think I haven’t had enough water today, that’s all,” she replied. “I’m not used to the heat.”
He nodded, his gaze still scrutinizing her. “You need to keep hydrated, especially in this job.”
“I do feel better now,” she assured him. Her phone and the folded paper she’d taken from his desk felt as if they were burning a hole in her apron pocket. His nearness unbalanced her; the faint smell of spicy cologne, the heat of his body, and the intensity of his gaze made her feel strangely light-headed. Suddenly, the narrow hallway felt tiny and airless.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, his voice a gentle caress.
“Absolutely,” she breathed. Heat flared between her breasts and flowered up toward her neck. She wished her body wouldn’t betray her; she hoped she wasn’t blushing.
He stepped aside then, to let her pass. However, she had only made it a few strides up the hallway when his voice stayed her.
“Sabrina.” Her name sounded beautiful on his lips, and she turned to him, still breathless.
“Si?”
“I’ve already said you don’t have to address me as ‘Signor Bellini’. Call me Adriano from now on.”
Sabrina nodded. Then she turned and fled back to the restaurant.
It was nearly one in the morning when Sabrina sat down in front of her computer. Her eyes were gritty and her limbs felt weighted with fatigue, but she couldn’t go to bed just yet.
She withdrew the folded piece of paper from her handbag and opened it out, smoothing it onto the flat surface of the table next to her computer. Then, she dug around in her bag and retrieved a pencil. Gently, she shaded out the paper, taking care not to press too heavily. There was writing there, just two lines that looked hastily scrawled.
Lunedi, 5 giugno, 10.30, avvocato.
Portare i documenti per Luca.
Sabrina’s breathing stilled. It appeared Adriano had a meeting this coming Monday morning with his attorney. He had to bring documentation regarding his son, Luca.
It wasn’t much to go on—but it was the best she’d had since discovering that Adriano had a lover. She would follow Adriano to his appointment; maybe if she knew who this attorney was she could get an idea of the class of people Adriano surrounded himself with. Perhaps, his attorney was the sort of individual who’d stoop to anything for a rich client?
In order to follow him to his appointment, she needed to be sure of where he was spending his nights. She’d driven back numerous times to the building where this mystery woman lived, including first thing in the mornings when she hoped to catch him leaving the building, but she hadn’t seen him.
He must be staying at his old address. To be certain, she would follow him home after work on Sunday night.
Sabrina sighed, massaging a tight muscle in her shoulder. Then, she retrieved her smartphone from her bag and brought up the audio file she’d saved at the end of her shift. As soon as she’d returned to the restaurant, she’d turned on the phone’s voice recorder. The Bluetooth connection had a range of around thirty feet, which should have been plenty, given the size of the restaurant.
Adriano and Daniele had come and gone from the office all evening. She’d hoped to catch some of their conversations, and that there was something incriminating in them.
Yawning, Sabrina rubbed her eyes. Her body was crying out for sleep but she had to listen to this recording—she was desperate for a lead. Bed would have to wait.
With a smile of anticipation, she pressed play.
Chapter Nine
Adriano kicked his scooter off its stand and sped off down the narrow street.
Sabrina followed.
Her scooter-driving skills had improved in the time she’d been in Rome. She’d grown in confidence and no longer felt as if she’d come tumbling off on each tight corner. Even so, it was a challenge to keep up with Adriano.
She had followed him the night before, home to the address she already had for him. He lived in a charmingly crumbling building, covered in creeping vines, at the back of the Trastevere quarter. Originally Rome’s workers’ village upon the western bank of the Tiber river, Trastevere had long been absorbed into the rest of the city. Even so, it still retained much of its sleepy charm—especially on a quiet Monday morning.
Sabrina tailed Adriano through the twisting streets, past ancient palazzi plastered in graffiti. They emerged onto a wide street where green trams snaked past. Sabrina bumped over the tram tracks and followed Adriano east, over the stately Ponte Garibaldi.
As she crossed the bridge, she glanced right at the island in the middle of the river. Isola Tiberina perched high above the eddying current. A hospital dominated the island, leaving space for little else. An ambulance, sirens blaring, rocketed across the humpback bridge onto it.
Sabrina tore her gaze from the quaint island and hurriedly looked back at the street. A moment’s inattention on Rome’s streets could be fatal. Still, she found herself marveling at this city. It was full of surprises and contradictions on every corner.
She followed Adriano to Piazza Venezia, before he cut right and followed the busy Via Nazionale further west. Traffic clogged the wide street and Sabrina struggled to keep Adriano in sight. As such, she nearly missed it when he suddenly veered right.
Sabrina turned into the street and emerged into another world. Behind her was modern Rome, choked by car exhaust and clogged with buses, cars, and scooters. Here was a serene backstreet that looked as if she had just s
tepped back into the Middle Ages.
Adriano stopped further up the street, and she slowed down when she realized he was about to park his scooter. She maneuvered her Piaggio Zip into a parking space next to a coffee bar. It was the perfect spot, as a trellis filled with flowering jasmine shielded her from view. Then, she waited while he disappeared into the building.
Moving casually, she walked over to the main door, her gaze scanning the names on the intercom. Sabrina quickly found what she was looking for.
Guidi, Ruggiero AVVOCATO.
She returned to her scooter, pulled out her smartphone and googled him. In cases such as this, the internet was her greatest source of information.
A short while later, she shoved her smartphone back into her bag in disgust.
Merda!
Adriano couldn’t have chosen someone cleaner.
Even the photo of the attorney on his website made him look like the kind of man who rescued puppies and worked in soup kitchens in his free time. Slightly chubby with soft brown eyes and a kind smile, Ruggiero Guidi was the opposite of what she’d hoped. Her internet search had yielded nothing unsavory about him. In fact, the only online forum where he’d been mentioned sang his praises and highlighted the man’s honesty and integrity.
Sabrina slumped against the wall and cursed her ill-luck. Nothing.
Not even bugging Adriano’s office had given her anything to go on. She’d used the Bluetooth connection over the past few evenings—in between sneaking into his office to retrieve her ear-piece so she could recharge the battery. It was the riskiest part of her operation but it hadn’t turned up anything yet. She’d listened in on a few business calls, some of them in English, as Adriano checked in on the various restaurants he ran worldwide. She’d heard Adriano ordering people about and heaping wintry disapproval on anyone who disappointed him—but none of that was going to help Helen. She already knew he was a bastard.