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“What’s wrong with my nose?” Stone asked.
“It’s too good,” Viv said. “Jim’s right. His makeup man could mess it up a little, give your face character.”
“Casselli will never make you,” Jim said. “I promise.”
47
Hedy was stu
Hedy got to her feet and climbed over a rock to her left. She cowered in a crevice as footsteps went past her on the path, then they retreated back to the deck.
“Nobody out here,” a man said in Italian. “Where did the key go?” He went inside, and she heard the door lock behind him.
Hedy discovered a niche under her rock and crawled into it. She was dry, if not warm, and she was in no mood to go blindly along that path in the rain. Soon she was asleep.
When she woke the rain had stopped, and the sun shone intermittently, enough to warm the air comfortably. She was hungry, but she wasn’t ready to risk the trail in daylight. She’d wait until dark, and if it wasn’t raining, try it again. She crawled out of her shelter and looked around. A few feet away was the rope handrail on the path, which led along a sheer cliff face and seemed to narrow to almost nothing. In the other direction was a lovely view of the sea and mountains and, a few feet away, what seemed another sheer drop-off. She was trapped on a peninsula of stone, with the path leading to the house, and in the other direction, God knew what awaited her.
Then she heard something odd: the sound of hooves on stone. She peered over a rock and saw an old man picking his way along the path on the cliff face, leading a donkey, which was heavily laden. As he passed slowly toward the house she saw that the donkey was carrying groceries, and she managed to swipe two apples and a banana before he had passed her. She retreated to her hiding place and had the banana for breakfast. The apples would have to do for breakfast and lunch.
Then she heard a woman’s voice shrieking, “Gone! The girl is gone!” People in the house rushed about talking loudly, then it got quiet again.
—
Casselli sat in the living room, going over a list. “I make it fifty-eight, with wives and girlfriends,” he said to his secretary.
“Only the man Klaucke, from Germany, did not respond,” she said. “Everyone else accepted.”
“We have the caterer from Rome, correct?”
“Yes, Don Leonardo. And the musicians, a quartet of jazz.”
“Good.”
A man entered the room carefully. “Don Leonardo,” he said, “there has been an incident.”
“What sort of incident?”
“The girl is gone.”
“Gone? Gone where?”
“No one knows, Don Leonardo. When she was taken her breakfast, she wasn’t there. The door was locked, as usual,” he lied.
“Have you searched the house?”
“Yes, Don Leonardo, every room, closet, and corner. She is not here.”
“How could she get out of the house?”
“The only irregularity we have discovered is that the key to the rear door to the deck is missing. It was hanging on a hook in the hallway. But we have a spare key.”
“You think she got out the rear door?”
“It’s possible, Don Leonardo. I myself have walked the path to the village both ways, and she is nowhere to be found. It’s possible that she may have slipped on the path in the dark and fallen into the ravine, but we ca
“Take the elevator down and search the parking area. She would have fallen there, likely.”
“Yes, Don Leonardo,” and he beat a retreat.
Strangely, Casselli felt relieved that the girl was out of his house. He hadn’t known what to do with her.
The man was back in fifteen minutes. “There is no sign of the girl anywhere near the road.”
“Could she have climbed down the rock face to the parking area?”
“In the dark? Impossible, I think. I believe she must have got to the village or beyond, though I would not wish to attempt the path in the night, without an electric torch.”
“She could go to the police, but they would call here, wouldn’t they?”
“Of course, Don Leonardo. They are in your pocket. Do you have further instructions for me?”
“No, no, get out.”
“It is a good thing,” his secretary said. “The girl was a pain in the ass. I hope she fell down the ravine and broke her neck.”
“From your lips to God’s ear.”
“The flowers and extra liquor have been ordered and will be delivered in due course,” the woman said. “The tableware and glasses are being delivered today. It’s going to be a wonderful party.”
“Yes,” he said, “wonderful. I’m looking forward to seeing everybody. I’ve been cooped up for too long.”
—
Hedy passed the afternoon napping. She tried her cell phone again, but it was truly dead. When it got dark, she would go back into the house for some food. Maybe she would find a flashlight, too; she could make it along the path in the dark with a flashlight.
48
Stone called Arthur Steele, in New York.
“Have you news, Stone?”
“Good news,” Stone replied. “Hedy is alive and well, and we have a location for her.”
“Why haven’t you retrieved her?”
“She is in a house built into a cliff face on the Amalfi Coast,” Stone said. “The only way to take it immediately would be by a military attack, and that would be very dangerous for Hedy. The police have elected to infiltrate instead. On Saturday night the owner is throwing a housewarming. The police are placing people on the catering staff and as musicians and will take it from inside, after having secured Hedy.”
“God, I’m glad I haven’t told her mother about this,” Arthur said.
“I think you were right not to. Casselli has made a halfhearted attempt to extort money in exchange for Hedy.”
“How much is he asking?”
“Fifty million euros. That’s how we know he’s not serious.”
“You were right not to agree to that, Stone.”
“If you can hang on until Sunday, I think we’ll have good news.”
“I’ll do my best.” The two men hung up.
“How are Arthur and his wife holding up?” Dino asked.
“Arthur hasn’t told his wife, so she’s just fine. Arthur is well-named—he’s a steely guy.”
Jim and Dante got off the elevator.
“Any progress?” Stone asked
“We’ve located the businesses that are supplying the catering and music, and my people are working on them now,” Dante said. “We should have everything wrapped up this morning, with any luck at all.”
“Have these people dealt with Casselli before?”
“They’ve dealt with his secretary, who is making the arrangements.”
“Do they know that if we’re successful Saturday night, they’ll lose a customer?”
“I’ve authorized my people to offer very attractive financial incentives—the minister has approved the money.”
Dante’s phone rang, and he stepped aside to answer it. Shortly, he returned. “A small problem,” he said. “The jazz group that was being furnished for Casselli’s party has agreed to a buyout for the evening.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Stone asked.
“Casselli is expecting a quartet. We need a drummer.”
“So, hire a drummer.”
“We can’t take a civilian musician in there. Anyway, the agent says nobody’s available on short notice. I don’t want you to show up there with a smaller group than has been paid for.”