Foreign Affairs

—

Stone leafed through the plans that Jim Lugano had brought; Dante, the policeman, had joined them. “This is spectacular,” Stone said. There was a profile elevation showing the elevator shaft, plans of each floor, plus drawings of electrical and plumbing installations. There were renderings of each room, showing furniture placement.

“Look,” Stone said, pointing, “he even has a grand piano, and it’s a nine-footer, if this scale is correct. I wonder how he got it into the house.”

Jim applied a scaled ruler to the plans. “The elevator is three by three meters, big enough for the piano and large artwork, too. You only see elevators like that in museums. And there’s a security room on the lower level. He’s got cameras everywhere.”

“If we want to get in there, we’re going to need a power failure,” Stone said.

“That won’t work—he has a fifty-kilowatt generator on the lower level, enough to power the whole place.” Lugano looked at him fu

“I don’t see how we’re going to get Hedy out, unless we do.”

“That would not be a quiet operation,” Jim replied. “We’d need fifty people, at least. We’ve got three stories to deal with, plus that elevator.”

Stone pointed to the plans. “There are four staff rooms here, on the lower level. That’s where Hedy has got to be.”

“Yeah? In which one?”

“I’ll have to let you know about that,” Stone said.

41

A squad of Italian police arrived bright and early at a freight yard co

“Do you know who owns this place?” the manager whispered to him.

“Yes, I do,” the cop whispered back. “It’s Leo Casselli’s place.”

The man blanched. “I will get into big trouble.”

“You’re already in big trouble,” the cop said. “And if I have to tell you again to get moving, I’ll put you in handcuffs and tear this place apart.”

The man got moving. He went to a filing cabinet and removed a stack of folders. “Here,” he said. “This is the file on every piece of equipment in the yard. The serial number for each is written on the outside of the folder.”

The cops went to work. Two hours later, the lead cop called his men together. “Have you finished?”

“Yes, sir,” one of them said. “Except for that trailer, the refrigerated one—there is no record of it.”

“Get me the bolt cutters,” he said.

He walked over to the trailer and cut the padlock. “Open it!”

Two men swung open the doors; the trailer was filled to the ceiling with cardboard boxes.

“What is it?” the cop asked.

A man pulled down a box and cut it open. “Candy,” he said.

“Bring me those two people from the office.”

The two workers were marched out.

“Where is the paperwork for this trailer?”

“Um, there is no paperwork,” one of them said. “We arrived for work a couple of days ago, and it was sitting here. We have to refill the tank for the refrigeration unit every day.”

“You are both under arrest for the receiving of stolen goods,” the cop said, “and every vehicle and trailer on this lot is now confiscated. Bring me the keys for all of them.”

“Confiscated?” the man said. “I will be shot.”

“It is now all the property of the Italian government,” the cop said, “and so are you.”

—

Stone, Dino, and Viv were at lunch, with Jim and Dante as their guests, when Dante’s phone rang. “Pronto.” He listened for a moment. “Eccellente.” He hung up. “You will all be delighted to know that we have found the missing shipment of chocolate, and that the trailer is parked on a lot owned by Leo Casselli. We have confiscated half a dozen trucks and two dozen trailers and arrested the workers there. It will be interesting to see who makes bail for them.”

“Baron Klaucke will be thrilled,” Stone said, “but only if this leads to Casselli’s arrest and conviction.”

“Now we have two provable charges against Casselli,” Dante said. “The kidnapping of the baron and the larceny of the chocolate and its trailer. That’s progress.”

—

Casselli was having a light lunch when his phone rang. “Pronto.”

“Don Leonardo,” a voice said, “the police have raided your lot in Naples and have discovered the load of chocolate.”

Casselli laughed. “They are welcome to it,” he said.

“It is worse,” the voice said. “They have arrested your two employees on the lot and they have confiscated every vehicle there.”

“Confiscated?” Casselli asked, disbelieving. “Call our captain of police in Naples and have this order canceled at once.”

“I have already called him,” the man said, “and he hung up on me.”

“Hung up on you? I don’t believe it!”

“He must believe his telephone is tapped.”

“What phone are you calling from?”

“My cell phone, Don Leonardo.”

“Bail those people out of jail before they start talking!” He hung up.

“Something wrong, darling?” the lovely Sophia asked.

“You might say that,” Casselli said, and he was sweating.

—

Casselli isn’t going to like this,” Lugano said, smiling.

“Wait until he tries to get his people out of jail,” Dante said. “We have moved them south, to Salerno. He is not going to like that a lot!”

“It’s about time he started to get nervous,” Jim said. “He’s not accustomed to being nervous, and when people are nervous, they make mistakes.”

42

Leo Casselli got back into his truck and was driven to Naples, to a prearranged meeting site. His two top capos, newly appointed to fill the places of their departed predecessors, stood before him, looking anguished.

“What is going on here?” Casselli demanded.

“We don’t know, Don Leonardo,” the braver of the two replied. “Our vehicles are being stopped and ticketed for speeding and broken taillights, even when they were not speeding and their taillights were not broken. Three restaurants have been inspected and closed by the health authorities. Four building sites have been shut down for safety violations. We have security camera footage of four men who entered another site with guns drawn, and all the vehicles at the trucking yard have been confiscated and taken away and two employees arrested. We ca

“Wait a minute. You said security camera footage?”

“Yes, Don Leonardo. Would you like to see it?”

“Immediately.”

The man took a cassette from his briefcase and inserted it into a player, then pressed a button.

Casselli watched intently as the four men entered the top floor of the building and moved around two stacks of building materials. Then they moved toward the radio and came into the light. “Stop it right there!” Casselli said. “Rewind a few seconds. Stop!” He peered at the images. “Do you know these men?”

“Two of them are agents of the DIA, the ones on either end. We don’t know the other two.”

“I know one of them!” Casselli spat. “His name is Barrington, and he is the partner of Marcel duBois! I want him found and brought to me immediately!”