Dr Mencuccini fixed her gaze on him and said, 'Signor McCabe, do you have something to add?'
McCabe said, 'I didn't say anything.'
'With your cuts and bruises, you look like a gladiator who fought here,' Dr Mencuccini said.
Behind him, Chip said, ''Get back. I tell you, he's an expert with a Thracian sword.''
Students around Chip were laughing now.
Dr Mencuccini said, 'Signor Tallenger, do you want to come up here and entertain us?'
'Mi dispiace, Dottore,' Chip said.
'Prego,' Dr Mencuccini said. 'Do you mind if I continue?'
'Per favore,' Chip said.
She said, 'To celebrate the thousandth birthday of Rome, gladiators slaughtered thirty-two elephants, ten tigers, sixty lions, ten giraffes, forty wild horses, ten hippopotamuses and twenty Etruscans. It all happened right here.' She paused and continued. 'Condemned criminals — and occasionally Christians — were stripped naked and thrown to the lions. The violence of ancient Rome has troubled scholars for centuries. Were the Romans exceptionally bloodthirsty?' She scanned the students in front of her. 'Signor Tallenger?'
Chip said, 'I defer to my learned colleague, Signor McCabe.'
'Signor McCabe?'
'It was violence at a distance,' McCabe said. 'Safe and controlled. Like a boxing match, or a violent movie.' He was aware of students around him, watching him.
'Molto bene' Dr Mencuccini said.
''Spartacus, you know things that can't be taught,'' Chip said. ''Why a star falls and a bird doesn't. Where the sun goes at night. Why the moon changes shape… where the wind comes from.''
Dr Mencuccini, amused herself now, said, 'I don't recognize the lines. What is that from?'
' Spartacus' Chip said. 'Appropriate, don't you think?'
'Yes. And I think that's enough for today. I will see you all Thursday at Campidoglio. Ciao.'
They walked out of the Colosseum, Chip and McCabe, and stood there surrounded by tour groups and students. It was four o'clock, classes over for the day.
Chip said, 'Let's get a beer.'
McCabe said, 'I can't. I've got to go back to the police station, meet Captain Ferrara. More photos he wants me to see.'
'Call me when you're finished,' Chip said.
McCabe walked along Via dei Fori Imperiali, the Roman Forum to his left below street level. He passed the Basilica of Constantine and Maxentius and the Temple of Antoninus and Faustina and the Forum of Caesar.
At Piazza Venezia he thought about taking a cab, but decided against it and walked down Via del Corso to the Condotti area, trying to find the enoteca Angela had taken him to.
He thought it was on the corner where Delia Croce met Via Bocca di Leone. He went there looking at the back-alley intersection, remembered the bar, remembered sitting at a sidewalk table across from Angela, thinking how lucky he was and trying to make the most of it. He went inside, scanned the people sitting at the bar, didn't see a good-looking girl with streaks in her hair, and went back out. He tried to remember which way they'd gone when they left the enoteca, but he hadn't been paying much attention, his main focus was on Angela that afternoon.
He walked to Via Mario de' Fiore, took a left and then a right on Via delle Carrozze. He thought it was on the corner.
Remembered the red awnings and the rows of round tables set up outside, and the waiters in white sport coats with gold trim.
He sat at a table and ordered a beer and watched people go by. He saw Angela's friend, Enzo, come out of the restaurant with a tray of drinks and serve four well-dressed, middle-aged women. He came toward McCabe's table, carrying the tray under his arm.
McCabe said, 'Enzo, how're you doing? I'm a friend of Angela's. We were supposed to meet here.' He said it one guy to another. The waiter stopped and looked at him. It was obvious he didn't recognize McCabe or have a clue who he was.
'Have you phone her?' Enzo said.
'I've tried for over an hour,' McCabe said. 'I think she's talking to someone.'
'Women,' Enzo said. He turned his hand sideways, opening and closing his thumb and fingers, making a mouth.
McCabe nodded. Now they had a common bond, men waiting for women to stop talking, get off the phone. Like it was a problem all men had to deal with. 'You know where she lives?'
'Near the Colosseum,' Enzo said.
McCabe said, 'What direction?'
'Via Cavour?' Enzo said.
McCabe knew where Via Cavour was. It ran northwest from Via dei Fori Imperiali. It wasn't much to go on, but it was a start.
McCabe had seen a Budget car rental office on Via del Corso. He walked there from the restaurant, ten blocks, and rented a blue Fiat Stilo with a credit card, a Visa, his dad told him to use only in an emergency, as a last resort. He thought what he was about to do qualified. The car cost?43 a day. Not knowing how long he’d need it, he rented it for a week.
He took a left on Via del Corso and drove straight down toward the Colosseum. He’d never driven in Rome, and it took him a few minutes to get used to it, cars and motorbikes flying by him like he was in slow motion. By the time he got to Piazza Venezia he was keeping up with traffic, feeling confident behind the wheel, his Detroit rush- hour instincts coming back.
It was 6:07 when he took a left on Via Cavour, cruising the streets to the south, Via Frangipane, Via delle Carine and Via degli Annibaldi, catching glimpses of the Colosseum in the distance. Traffic was heavy and it was difficult to take his eyes off the road for more than a couple seconds at a time. It was a residential neighborhood, beautiful old apartment buildings, restaurants and shops lining the streets on both sides. He was looking for a red Lancia and a dark-haired girl with blonde streaks in her hair, which described half the women he saw. He didn't even know if the car was hers, but that's all he had to go on — not knowing her last name or anything else about her except she had an uncle who lived in Detroit.
Now he tried the neighborhood north of Cavour, taking Via della Madonna dei Monti past the Hotel Forum and Birra Moretti. There were more bars and cafes. This area looked familiar. He'd been to Birra Moretti, an Italian beer hall, one night with Chip and a group of students, drinking beer out of glass boots. There was a cafe he passed next to Hotel Duca di Alba that also looked familiar.
He'd been driving around for an hour and twenty minutes. He was thinking about giving up, thinking that what he was doing was insane. He wasn't going to find this girl and if he did, what was he going to do with her? He pulled over and parked on the street, considered taking the car back, cut his losses.
There was a map of Rome in the console between the seats, courtesy of Budget. He took it out and unfolded it. He found his approximate location, traced a line where he’d been down Via Cavour and the neighborhoods north and south. To the west was Via del Corso and Piazza Venezia. There was another neighborhood to the east he hadn't been to yet. He glanced in the rearview mirror and when the traffic was clear in both directions he made a U-turn. He drove a couple blocks and it turned into Via Leonina. Nothing.
He drove back the way he had come. If she had a view of the Colosseum, her apartment had to be closer to it. He passed the tunnel that led to San Pietro in Vincoli, a little piazza tucked back behind the buildings lining the east side of Via Cavour. He parked and ran across the street and went up the steps and through the tunnel.
The square was surrounded by buildings, and had a parking lot in the center that was filled with motorcycles, hundreds of them, and cars. He walked past the university building, students standing in groups on the steps in front, talking, and a vendor truck that said BIBITE, GELATI, COLD DRINKS on a brown awning that ran along the side.
He walked down the street to Bar del Mose and went in and had a quick espresso. He came out, and went left and saw the Colosseum. He walked down Via della Polveriera and saw a red Lancia parked across the street from an umber-colored apartment building. He looked in the driver's side window. It had tan leather seats, and the front left fender was dented. He pictured it on the road that day when they caught him trying to get away. It was
