“Archie!” I shouted. “I
Archie pointed his thumb at his massive chest.
I was totally baffled. “You didn’t set up the guns?”
“What guns?”
“Come on. Two Sigs. Mini machine pistol.”
“Mini machine pistol?”
“We’ve known each other a long time,” I said. “I know my phone call got you thinking about Danny. I can picture you hanging up after turning me down, replaying what happened to him over and over. Don’t tell me my call didn’t stir up all kinds of stuff.”
Archie swallowed.
“Please tell me the truth,” I implored.
He plunked down in his chair, took a big swallow of soda.
“I did the guns,” he confessed to his jump boots. “Had to. Ginny, I hope I didn’t hurt you in the square. I never put the bump on someone your size before.”
Ginny said,“How did you know to give it to me?”
“I could tell Reb was searching for somebody. And you, well, you were dressed like . . . the scarf and goggles, head down, scoping everybody in the piazza? I used to be a cop. Come on. Stevie Wonder couldn’t have missed you.”
“Why didn’t you just come to me?” I asked.
Archie spat, “You’re damn right you stirred things up, asking me to make that kind of decision in a second. The whole flight over, I didn’t know whether to help you out or shoot you myself. I got you the guns, didn’t I? Sue me. But what the hell are you talking about? Who got shot? Reb, you shot somebody?”
“No,
“The hell I did! I’d remember if I shot somebody.”
“That’s the same phrase you used about seeing Ginny! And five seconds later you confessed. So what the hell?”
Archie sprang out of his chair. “Look,” he snapped, “I decided to help you out. I made a call to somebody I know from a long time ago. I got the guns stashed. I tracked your ass, put the bump on her, planted the card, said two Hail Marys, and caught the next plane out of there.”
“Why didn’t you follow us?”
“I didn’t, okay? I just didn’t. May Moses smash my nuts with the Ten Commandments if I’m lying. I’ve been holing up at my place in Big Bear two days grinding down my fillings, thank you very much. I don’t have a damn clue what you’re into. And then what happens? Your place gets torched.”
“What?”
“Oh my God!” Ginny gasped.
“Your house burned to the ground yesterday.”
My heart froze.
“Oh . . . Jesus, Reb,” Archie said. “Gimme a hand, Ginny. He’s losing it.”
I felt the room telescope. I was slipping down a funnel.
My eyes came into focus.
I struggled to a sitting position, took two deep breaths. Archie and Ginny knelt by me, the air heavy with their concern. “I’m all right,” I said as calmly as I could. “Really.”
“You just had a flashback, is what you had,” Archie said. “I’m a combat veteran. I know.”
Ginny checked my pulse. I shook my hand free of hers and got to my feet, feeling acrid and defensive.
“I’m all right,” I said with vinegar. “Tecci . . . he burned my house down.”
“Who’s Tecci?” Archie said. “What the fuck is going on here?”
In a burst of rage I grabbed Archie by his shirt, bunching it in my fist, getting right in his face. “That’s what I want to know, Archie!” I screamed. “What the fuck is going on here? Are you telling me you weren’t in Milan? You didn’t shoot that asshole by the bus?”
“Reb,” Archie said quietly, covering my hands with his much stronger ones.“My boy—”
“I’m not your boy!” Instantly I regretted saying that.
Archie closed his eyes for a few seconds, as if in prayer. “My
I smoothed out his T-shirt, shivering from cold sweat trickling down my back.
A moment later Archie said, “Now . . . tell me about the asshole I didn’t plug in Milan.”
An hour later we had told him everything. He had listened carefully, staring bug-eyed at Leonardo’s notes and the Circles of Truth. When we finished, he shook his woolly head.
