All He Saw Was the Girl

'I wasn't,' Chip said. 'Prisoners I met were a bunch of pussies.'

McCabe glanced down at the newspaper, the next page, and saw two black-and-white photographs of faces that looked familiar. 'It's your buddies from jail.'

Chip said, 'What're you talking about?'

'Guy who took your cigarettes and his friend.'

Chip said, 'Yeah, right?'

McCabe picked up the newspaper and turned it around so Chip could see the pictures. Chip picked it up and read the article, and when he finished, looked up at McCabe.

'The prison transport they were riding in was ambushed as it came into the city. It was stopped at a traffic light. Men dressed as construction workers got out of a truck that was parked on the side of the road. Shot out the van's tires, gained entrance and overpowered the guards. The two prisoners and their accomplices escaped.' He held up the paper. 'Look at this.'

There was a photograph of the van, tires resting on their rims, bullet holes in the windshield.

'The two prisoners, Sisto Bardi and Roberto Mazara, had been arrested for extortion and were going to trial when the van was intercepted.'

'Who are they?' Brianna said.

'We were in a holding cell at police headquarters,' Chip said. 'I asked the long-haired guy, Mazara, for a light. He asked me for a cigarette. I took out my pack and he grabbed it.'

Brianna said, 'What'd you do?'

'Nothing. It wasn't worth it.' He picked up his glass and sipped his wine. 'McCabe went over and got it back. I couldn't believe it. You should've seen these guys. They looked like extras in The Sopranos.' Chip glanced down at the paper.

'It says they're allegedly involved in extortion, kidnapping, weapons trafficking and racketeering.'

Brianna said, 'What's racketeering?'

'Being involved in illegal activities,' Chip said. 'They're armed and dangerous.' He was reading the article. 'You see them, call the ROS.' He looked up. 'Like we're going to see them again.'

Brianna said, 'What's the ROS?'

Chip said, 'Raggruppamento Operativo Speciale,' reading the article, 'an elite unit of the carabinieri formed to fight organized crime.'

McCabe saw Pietro, the owner, wave him over, Pietro sitting at the bar, having a glass of grappa before it got crowded. McCabe stood up and said, 'I'll be right back.' He walked over and sat next him.

Pietro was in his mid-forties, short and heavy with a thin tapered mustache and dark hair combed back.

'McCabe, what is this I hear about you in Rebibbia?'

For whatever reason, Pietro had taken a liking to him, introduced him to his family, invited him to his house for dinner, offered him the use of his summer home in Lazio. McCabe told him what happened.

Pietro shook his head and glanced at Chip. 'Him I can see, but not you, McCabe. You should have phone me. I know a few judges. They come here for cannelloni.' He patted McCabe on the cheek. 'Stay out of trouble, uh?'

McCabe went back to the table.

Brianna said, 'You guys were lucky. Anything else happen? Anybody try to…'

McCabe said, 'You mean did we end up being somebody's girlfriend? I don't know about Chip, but I walked out with my virginity intact.'

Chip said, 'I was in a cell with a South American pickpocket and an old dude who'd been there since the early seventies.'

Brianna said, 'What'd he do?'

'I don't know, but he slept with his clothes on, thinking he was going to be released any time and wanted to be ready.'

Brianna said, 'How'd you get out?'

Chip said, 'The Senator bought the taxi driver a new Fiat and gave him money for his trouble.'

'You call your dad the Senator?'

'No, I call him Chuck.'

'Come on?' Brianna said.

'That's my name for him because it's so out of character. He's Charles. Not Charley or Chuck or Chucky. He's too straight to have a nickname.'

Brianna said, 'You don't call him Chuck to his face, do you?'

'Not if I want to collect the trust fund. Chuck also hired attorneys who knew one of the judges. A deal was made, although I don't know the particulars.'

Brianna said, 'You mean a bribe?'

Chip said, 'We don't use words like that, it's politically incorrect.'

Brianna said, 'Judges? How many were there?'

'Three,' McCabe said, 'and a prosecutor who wanted to make an example of us. Teach American students what happens when they steal a taxi in Rome. He wanted to give us eighteen months.'

Chip said, 'Then one of the judges said something, and it was over and we were shaking hands with our attorneys.'

McCabe flashed back to the courtroom, he and Chip in coats and ties, sitting next to their lawyers, facing three serious men wearing white powdered wigs and black robes, listening to the prosecutor yelling at them in Italian.

'On the way back to school,' McCabe said, 'Chip told his dad I stole the taxi and he tried to stop me. What a friend, huh?'

'Dude,' Chip said. 'We're out, who cares? If the senator knew I drove the cab, I'd be home right now. You don't know him. He's perfect, never made a mistake in his life. Ask him.'

McCabe remembered the ride home from the courthouse. They were in a Mercedes-Benz Maybach driven by the senator's aide, a yes-man in a seersucker suit and bow tie, named Todd, who kept looking at them in the rearview mirror.

Charles Tallenger was impressive. He looked Hollywood's idea of a US senator, tall, good-looking, well- dressed, with dark hair, graying at the temples, sixty years old, the build of a tennis player, six two, 180, a two- term Democrat from Connecticut. Played lacrosse at Princeton. Was a Rhodes Scholar. Went to Harvard Law. Started a software company he took public ten years later and cashed out for $500 million.

Chip was right, he was perfect. Yeah, McCabe thought, he'd be a tough act to follow. Tougher if your name was Chip. They were driving along the Tiber past Castel Saint Angelo, the dome of St Peter's in the distance. The senator was turned sideways in the front seat, looking back at them.

'Do you guys know how lucky you are?'

Chip wouldn't look at him, eyes on the floor.

The senator said, 'Whose bright idea was it to steal the cab?' Chip looked up and glanced at McCabe.

The senator said, 'What were you thinking?'

McCabe didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything.

The senator fixed his attention on Chip now and said, 'And you went along for the ride, huh? That's just as bad. Why didn't you do something, try to stop him?'

Chip squirmed in his seat. 'I did.'

McCabe couldn't believe it, Chip throwing him under the bus like that. He could see Chip was afraid of the guy.

'You didn't try very hard, did you? You guys are what, twenty-one years old? Still acting like kids. It's time to grow up.' He looked over at the driver. 'Todd, you're only a few years out of college, you understand any of this?'

Todd glanced at the senator and said, 'No, sir, I honestly do not. I couldn't fathom doing something like that.'

McCabe wanted to pull the little weasel with the bow tie out of the car and pop him.

The senator said, 'You know what I was doing when I was twenty-one?'