I knew the café he was referring to. Its tables, sheltered from the ferry crowds by the harbourmaster’s office, were set out on a terrace overlooking the beach. Vivien and I had stopped there for coffee several times. Customers were few at that stage of the afternoon and by a troubling coincidence Lashley chose the very table where Vivien had always wanted to sit. I tried to tell myself I couldn’t be sure it was the same table. But, of course, it was.
The waitress approached as we sat down and we ordered coffees. Lashley lit a cigarette and offered me one. I accepted, rare though it had become for me to smoke. I welcomed this one more as a prop than anything else.
‘I’m sorry to have disrupted your holiday plans, Jonathan,’ Lashley said as he took a first draw on his cigarette. ‘Be assured I didn’t do so lightly. A situation’s arisen – a dire situation – in which I need your assistance.’
‘I’ll do whatever I can.’ The man had been generous enough over the years for me to give up a week’s hiking in the Appalachians without complaint. ‘What’s the problem?’
‘We’ll come to that presently. I must emphasize at the outset, however, that this lies well beyond your range of duties at CCC. You won’t in any way prejudice your position there by refusing.’
‘But I won’t refuse.’
‘I hope not, certainly. I need someone I can rely on to act for me. Someone reliable … and loyal. As I’ve always found you to be.’
‘I’m glad you think so, sir.’
‘You may not be glad for long. I—’ He broke off as the waitress returned with our coffees. ‘Grazie,’ he murmured. He busied himself with his cigarette as she set down the cups and walked away. Then he leant towards me and lowered his voice. ‘What I’m about to say must go no further, Jonathan. You understand?’
‘Certainly.’
He sighed. ‘I didn’t think I’d ever find myself saying something was a matter of life and death and meaning it literally. But that is how I find myself.’
‘Life and death?’
‘Yes. It concerns Muriel.’
‘Is she ill?’
‘No. That is … I’m sorry. I mustn’t beat about the bush. The plain fact is that my wife has been kidnapped.’
‘What?’
‘I’d be obliged if you kept your voice down, Jonathan, shocking as I appreciate the news is. I haven’t informed the authorities, you see. I wouldn’t trust the local police to negotiate a hairpin bend, let alone my wife’s release from the hands of the Camorra.’
‘Who?’
‘The Neapolitan Mafia. They’re sure to be behind this, just as they’re behind every other crime in the region above the level of pickpocketing and handbag-snatching. Italy’s very pretty, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. But it’s all make-up. Underneath there’s a very ugly face.’
‘But here? On Capri?’
‘You’d expect them to leave well alone, wouldn’t you, considering what they skim off from the tourist trade? Well, there’s a reason we’ve been targeted and I think I know what it is, but that doesn’t help free Muriel. The only thing that’ll do that is money.’
‘They’ve demanded ransom?’
‘Oh yes. And we’re close to agreeing a figure.’ Something in my expression must have signalled my surprise that he’d evidently haggled over the price. ‘If you cave in straight away, they only demand more. And they have an exaggerated notion of what I’m worth. It’s important to show them I’m not a pushover. I have to extract a measure of respect from them to make this work.’
‘How long have they been holding her?’
‘A week. She went to her hairdresser as usual last Wednesday afternoon, but never came back. Somewhere between the salon and the villa, they grabbed her. She was on foot, which must have made it easy for them. It’s only a short walk. And a pleasant one, normally. But it turned out to be neither. They probably had her in a boat heading for the mainland before I even noticed she was late. I had the first phone call that night. There have been several since. They’re not easy people to do business with. But to them that’s what this is: business. So, I have to play by their rules. It’s the only way, believe me. I’ve taken discreet advice. What I’m doing gives us – gives Muriel – the best possible chance of a safe outcome.’
The calmness with which he’d explained the situation would have surprised me if I’d been listening to anyone else. But Greville Lashley’s self-control was legendary. I’d have expected nothing less. ‘This is terrible. I can hardly believe such a thing could have happened.’
‘It is terrible, as you say. But wailing and gnashing of teeth won’t help Muriel. They sent me a photograph of her holding a copy of last Friday’s Il Mattino to prove they have her. She looked well, in the circumstances. But frightened. That was obvious. And understandable. The Camorra have a bloodthirsty reputation. Their guiding principle, however, is greed. That’s what I have to appeal to.’
‘How can I help?’
‘First, by saying nothing about this to anyone other than those who already know. There must be absolute secrecy until we’ve secured Muriel’s release. I need your word on that.’
‘You have it.’
‘Thank you.’ He nodded at me solemnly. ‘I knew I could count on you. That’s why I called you in.’
‘Who does already know?’
‘Very few, fortunately. Adam’s been staying here since term ended at Oxford. He’s worried sick about his mother, but he appreciates that what I’m doing is the best way to get her back where she belongs. The only other person in the know is Jacqueline Hudson.’
‘Hudson? Is she …’
‘Don Hudson’s daughter. I invited Don here so we could discuss my merger idea in a relaxed and comfortable environment. Jacqueline came with him. The discussions went well, which seemed important at the time but now, of course, utterly trivial. Don flew back to Atlanta the day before Muriel was kidnapped. It was actually Muriel who invited Jacqueline to stay on for a while. They’d hit it off and Jacqueline was enjoying herself, so … why not? Well, she’s not enjoying herself any more. But she wants to stay until Muriel’s released. She’s a good-hearted young woman, I must say. She’s promised she won’t breathe a word to anyone, even her father, until this is over. I believe her. She has a trustworthy nature.’
‘Good. What about Vivien? Does she—’
‘I haven’t told her and I don’t intend to, unless, of course …’ He raised one hand in reference to a contingency he had no wish to put into words. ‘You’re well aware, Jonathan, that Vivien has had a good many traumas to cope with in her life. But marriage and motherhood seem to have agreed with her. She’s found … peace of mind. I intend to keep it that way if I possibly can.’
‘I understand.’ So I did. But that didn’t quell a surge of resentment. Marriage and motherhood. Privilege and prosperity. And the title of a viscountess to revel in when her father-in-law dropped off the aristocratic perch. Oh yes. Vivien had peace of mind all right. I should know. I’d helped her get it.
‘I haven’t told Harriet either. Not least because, as far as Patrizia and Elena are concerned, Harriet’s ill, meaning Muriel’s had to rush home to Cornwall. You remember Patrizia?’
‘Yes. Of course. But Elena?’
‘Her daughter. They share the cooking and cleaning. Salt of the earth, both of them. But they’d be incapable of keeping quiet about something like this. Patrizia would be in permanent hysterics. She’s very attached to Muriel. So, watch what you say when they’re around.’
‘I will.’
‘We won’t have to maintain the pretence for much longer. I’m confident of reaching a final agreement with Muriel’s captors within a few days.’
‘I’m glad to hear it. But I’m still not clear what—’
‘I want you to do? Well, let’s deal with that. The thing is, Jonathan, when agreement’s been reached, there’ll have to be a delivery of the ransom money, simultaneous with Muriel’s release. I anticipate they’ll insist on separate location
s. So, while I go wherever they nominate to collect Muriel, someone else will have to go somewhere else to hand over the cash. It’s asking a lot, I know, but I’m hoping you’ll agree to be that someone.’
‘I see. Well, I—’
‘It should be straightforward. Like I say, to them it’s just a business transaction. But they’re capable of anything. I’d be lying to you if I pretended there wasn’t an element of danger in this.’
I’d already guessed he had some such role in mind for me. Why else summon me across the Atlantic? He needed the services of a trustworthy employee – by implication, his most trustworthy employee. Quite how I’d ended up with that status I wasn’t sure. It was about a lot more than my record at CCC. It was about Francis and Oliver. And Vivien, of course. And maybe even her long-dead father. I’d kept secrets for Greville Lashley without knowing what they really were. They bound us together. They underpinned the trust he was putting in me. And they ensured I wouldn’t turn him down. ‘I can do that,’ I said. And as I said it, in some small, unworthy compartment of my brain, I was already relishing the moment, lodged in an ill-defined future, when Vivien discovered who she was beholden to for her mother’s life. ‘You can rely on me.’
TWENTY-FIVE
HE WAS GRATEFUL. That was clear. And in his gratitude there was also satisfaction that I’d vindicated his judgement of me. But there was more he had to tell. We ordered another two coffees. He lit another cigarette. The heat of the afternoon faltered marginally. A bar of cloud traced a line across the horizon. Evening wasn’t far off now.
‘There’s a complication, Jonathan. One I’d like you to deal with while I finalize the terms of Muriel’s release. An Englishman – Thompson’s his name – has been looking for Muriel. He’s staying at the Gabbiano, up in the town. I gather he’s been asking questions about her and me in the shops and cafés. He arrived at the end of last week. He called at the villa on Sunday. I’d never clapped eyes on the fellow before. He’s in his sixties. Podgy and more than a little truculent. A Londoner, judging by his accent. Anyway, he claimed to have had an appointment with Muriel on Saturday. She didn’t show up, naturally. But she’d never mentioned any such appointment to me. He declined to say what they were meeting to discuss. He declined to say very much at all, in fact. I told him Muriel had left the island at short notice and saw him off. But he’s still here. And he hasn’t stopped asking questions. I had a phone call from Harriet the night before last. He’d been on to her, asking if Muriel was in St Austell. Harriet was puzzled, obviously. I told her Muriel was out playing bridge and would call her later in the week. If all goes well, she’ll be able to do that, though what she’ll say about friend Thompson I can’t imagine.’
‘Do you think she really had agreed to meet him?’
‘I’ve no idea. It seems improbable, but since the fellow won’t reveal what line of business he’s in, if any …’ Lashley shrugged. ‘I’d like you to get him off my back. Find out what his game is and persuade him – pay him, if necessary – to leave Capri. I’d happily ignore him, but given the delicacy of the situation …’
‘OK. Leave it to me.’ Yes. What an invaluable resource I was to Lashley. I’d become a troubleshooter in his personal, as well as his professional, life. ‘I’ll contact him tomorrow.’
‘Excellent. We don’t need him making a nuisance of himself in the days ahead, we really don’t.’ Lashley rubbed his eyes. He looked tired and just a little strung-out. It was hardly surprising. A lesser man and many a younger one would have been in pieces after the week he’d endured. ‘I can’t tell you how reassuring it is to have you here, Jonathan,’ he said, summoning a smile from somewhere. ‘I’m indebted to you.’
‘You said earlier you thought you knew why you’d been targeted.’
‘Ah yes.’ He took a lengthy draw on his cigarette. ‘Well, maybe you know too.’
I frowned in puzzlement. ‘No.’
‘It’s Verdelli, Jonathan. It has to be.’
‘Paolo Verdelli?’
‘The very same. He expected to inherit the Villa Orchis when Luisa died. Along with the fortune he imagined she’d salted away. She promised him as much, to hear him tell it. But there was no fortune. And the villa went to Muriel and Harriet. All those years he’d catered for her … needs … were in vain. There was no pay-off for him. Just a thumbed nose from beyond the grave. He didn’t like it. Who would, in his position? He consulted a lawyer at one point. But even in Italy there’s no law protecting the interests of middle-aged gigolos. He had to swallow his disappointment and go looking for some other wealthy widow. Except that I’m not sure he did swallow it. The last time he spoke to me was just after the lawyer had told him he didn’t have a leg to stand on. “You will regret robbing me,” he said. And he looked as if he meant it.’
‘An idle threat, surely.’
‘That’s what I assumed. But he comes from an old Neapolitan family. A lot of them have connections with the Camorra. He might easily have Camorrista relatives. A word in the right ear. A favour called in. He’s probably on a cut of the ransom money. Yes, I suspect he’s behind it. The inflated figure the kidnappers initially demanded points to him. I expect he still believes Luisa was a millionairess.’
‘Does he still live on Capri?’
‘No. He left the island soon after we took over the villa. But according to Patrizia he hasn’t gone further than Naples. As a matter of fact, I saw him there myself, at the ferry terminal, when Muriel and Adam and I arrived two weeks ago. He pretended not to recognize us and I was happy to pretend I didn’t recognize him. But now I look back on it, there was something … furtive … about his behaviour. I think he was already planning to take revenge on us for what Luisa did to him.’
‘If you’re right …’
‘There’s nothing to be done about it. At least not until we have Muriel back home, safe and sound. Then … Well, we’ll see.’ A gleam in his eye suggested he didn’t intend to let Paolo get away with extorting money out of him. How much money he was planning to settle for he hadn’t said, and I hadn’t asked. It would have seemed tasteless.
As for Paolo, I knew he had even better reason to be bitter than Lashley supposed. Between us, he and I had covered up the evidence that Francis had murdered Strake. Whether Luisa had been aware of what we’d done, I didn’t know. If she did, her failure to leave Paolo anything in her will was spectacularly, perhaps unforgivably, cruel. But Luisa, as I also knew, had been capable of great acts of treachery. Perhaps this had merely been her last.
It was the recollection, never far from my mind, of the part I’d played in events leading up to Francis’s death and in its aftermath that prompted me to ask Lashley, as we left the café and headed for his car, whether he was acquainted with Countess Covelli.
‘The contessa? Yes, she’s a neighbour. Well, you’d know that, of course. We don’t socialize with her, if that’s what you mean. Amiable but distant is how I’d describe her. And elegant. Very elegant. A great beauty in her youth, I imagine.’
‘She was a close friend of Luisa’s.’
‘That was my impression when we first met her, after Francis died. But she didn’t attend Luisa’s funeral. They must have drifted apart. Or fallen out. Who knows?’
‘I liked her. I might call on her, if you don’t mind.’
‘Why should I mind? Tell her I’ve got you over here working on the terms of a big new contract. That can be your cover story. Remember: Muriel’s gone home to Cornwall because Harriet’s poorly. But not too poorly. Otherwise she’ll wonder why Adam and I have stayed put.’
‘Don’t worry. I won’t let anything slip. Maybe I won’t have time to see her, anyway.’
But I’d find the time. Oh yes. It was like an itch I couldn’t help scratching. What had the countess done after reading the letter I’d sent her? How had she paid her old friend back for betraying her husband to the Nazis? I couldn’t come to Capri and make no effort at all to find out.
Lashley’s car was a F
iat runabout. It was a far cry from the Jaguars he normally favoured, but convenient for the narrow, winding roads of Capri. As we climbed the hill out of Marina Grande, slowed by a labouring lorry ahead of us, he asked after my parents. Then, when I’d assured him they were both well and that my father was enjoying retirement, he said, almost as if he envied them, ‘They must be proud of you, Jonathan.’
‘Well, I don’t know about that.’
‘Oh, I think so. Parenthood is something of a lottery. You never quite know what you’re going to get. Since you’ll be seeing quite a bit of him, I should prepare you for the fact that Adam isn’t easy to deal with.’
‘I’m sure I wasn’t at his age either.’
‘I knew you at his age. There was a big difference. As you’ll see for yourself. Just remember: it’s all one big pose. He likes to seem flippant and superior. Actually, he’s as insecure as anyone else. And he’s as worried as I am about his mother. He just has a strange way of showing it.’
‘I’ll make allowances.’
‘Good. Because you’ll need to, believe me.’
As it turned out, I had to wait a while for my first encounter with Adam. He’d gone out – destination a beach or a bar or both – shortly after Lashley had set off to collect me. We were informed of this as soon as we reached the Villa Orchis by Patrizia, stouter than she’d been fifteen years earlier but otherwise unaltered. Blithely unaware of what had happened to Muriel, she enveloped me in hugs and kisses and fussed around cheerily.
Lashley introduced me to Jacqueline Hudson, a tall, softly spoken brunette in her late thirties or early forties, whose taut expression hinted at the strain she was under. She might have been cool and aloof on other occasions, but the gravity of the situation had fostered a camaraderie between her and Lashley to which I was immediately admitted.
‘Greville’s spoken so highly of you, Jonathan,’ she said, as soon as Patrizia had left us alone. ‘It’s a mercy he has someone like you to call on. Lord knows, he needs help at a time like this.’
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