himself for not paying attention.
He made it to the forest, ran sixty, seventy yards, stopped and listened, could hear them coming behind him. He used an oak tree for cover, looking back, seeing them appear one at a time, spread out, spaced twenty yards apart, moving toward him, two holding shotguns. He looked at the compass and saw he was heading south toward the entrance to the villa.
He changed direction, moving again, this time heading east. He went fifteen yards, stopped and looked back. One of the guards was getting close. Ray wasn't sure if the man had seen him or not. He turned and saw Giancotti and Veraldi, closing in on him from the opposite direction, Ray now caught in the middle. He went down on his knees and then his stomach, hiding in a patch of leafy foliage, gripping the SIG Sauer. He lay there holding his breath as Veraldi approached, carrying the machine gun. Veraldi stopped, looking around, his leg a foot away. Ray waited till he moved past him, till he was out of sight, got up and ran.
Chapter Thirty-two
'You done good,' Joey said.
Psuz looked at him and grinned.
'I've got to tell you I had my doubts. I thought no fucking way Jose, but you did it.'
'In the casa,' Psuz said, pointing to a tan-colored stone house on the hill behind them.
Joey was still in the back seat, door open, catching a breeze that swept across the valley. He was staring out at the countryside, seeing little houses in the distance, tiny shapes, squares and rectangles with orange roofs. It was 2:00, sun dipping toward the mountains.
Joey lighted his last Montecristo No. 4 with the gold Alfred Dunhill lighter, puffed and got it going, and got out of the car. He clamped the cigar between his teeth, inhaled a little and blew out smoke the wind took as soon as it came out of his mouth. Psuz had called Mazara and told him he followed the American and knew where he was. Joey didn't believe it till he got there. Blondie had surprised him. Now Sis, Mazara and Psuz, his three Italian buddies, were looking at him, waiting for Joey to tell them what to do.
'He was going to capture the American, give him to you,' Mazara said to Joey. 'But he want you to have the honor.'
Joey nodded. Okay, that was more like it. The Romans finally showing him some fucking respect. It was about time.
He glanced at Psuz. 'You're positive he's up there?'
'I see him,' Psuz said, pointing at the villa.
'Just making sure,' Joey said. He sucked on the cigar, tasted tobacco juice, swallowed it, inhaled and blew out the smoke.
'We can go now?' Mazara said.
'Bob, that's what we're going to do, okay? Take a chill pill.' Joey knew the smart thing to do was wait till dark, but he wanted to get it over with, get the money, give McCabe to his Unk, and go back to Rome have a nice dinner, a Florentine steak maybe, or a big bowl of spaghetti Alfredo. Drink some wine. Celebrate. The only question: how was he going to get up the hill? Taking the car would be like calling McCabe and telling him he was on his way. He could walk, but said to himself, who're you kidding? It had to be a hundred yards to the top. He'd never make it. 'You three sneak up. I'll watch. When I see you at the top I'll drive up. We'll surround the place, bring him out and that'll be that.'
They just stood there staring at him with these goofy looks on their faces.
'There a problem? Something you don't understand?' Joey said. He pointed at the villa. 'What're you waiting for? Go get him. Andi-fucking-amo.'
Now they seemed to get it. Sis and Mazara took off zigzagging up the scrub-covered slope in front. Psuz grabbed his shotgun and went around the hill to the opposite side of the villa, surprise McCabe if he tried to sneak out that way. Joey liked giving an order and seeing the Romans hop to it. Maybe there was hope for them after all.
Ten minutes later Sisto signaled him from the top. Joey got in the Opel, sped up the driveway, parked on the flat gravel area next to the house, and got out with the gay shotgun Mazara had given him. Psuz was standing at the edge of the parking area, staring up at the roofline as if he were expecting McCabe to jump out a window or slide down the tiles.
Mazara was moving through the kitchen, two hands on the Tanfoglio. He entered a big room with walls of stone and beams in the ceiling. The floor was made of wood planks covered by a rug. He saw Sisto coming in the front of the house, coming through the salon, Sisto pointing to the ceiling, the gesture, saying McCabe could be up there. But only a fool would do that and this McCabe was not a fool. Mazara followed Sisto up the stairs. There were two bedrooms. He looked out the window to the west and saw Viterbo a few kilometers away.
He crossed the room and looked out toward Bagnaia, a village to the east. He went back downstairs and saw the telescope on a tripod in the main room in front of a window. He didn't notice it before. He went over and looked through the lens, turned it to the left and saw them, two figures he recognized as McCabe and Angela, a couple hundred meters away, at least, running along the road. Mazara didn't see anyone pointing a gun at her, or forcing her to run. It looked like she wanted to go with McCabe. Seeing this confused him. He grabbed his crotch for good luck, told himself she was just doing what she was told, a prisoner, waiting for an opportunity to escape.
McCabe went upstairs to get his backpack, looked out the bedroom window and saw them starting up the hill in front of the villa. Further to the right he could see the rear fender of the Opel parked on the side of the road. Howd they find him? He ran downstairs. Angela was in the kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee. 'They're here,' McCabe said.
'What?'
'Coming up the hill.'
They went out the front door and over the wall and down the eastern slope toward the road, stopped a couple of times and took cover behind stands of oak and sycamore trees. Sisto and Mazara were coming up the hill toward the villa as they were going down. At one point they were only about twenty yards away. McCabe also saw Joey drive up in the Opel, but by that time they were walking along the road. Angela had her thumb out and a car was stopping.
Angela got in front and McCabe in the rear seat behind her. The driver was a thin middle-aged guy, hair going gray, looked like an accountant, white shirt and tie. He smiled at Angela and said something in Italian.
Angela glanced at him, her expression seductive and innocent. It was the same look she'd given McCabe at the wine bar the afternoon they met, and now the man was hooked just as McCabe had been. He said something to Angela in Italian. She turned her head and looked back at McCabe.
'He wants to know where we are going. What should I tell him?'
'Soriano nel Cimino.'
Angela told the driver and he glanced at her and said something in Italian. She looked back at McCabe and said, 'He's going to Montecampano. Soriano is out of his way, but he said he would take us.'
'I think he likes you,' McCabe said. And on cue the accountant looked at Angela again, and smiled. She was good-looking, but there was something down-to-earth and approachable about her that gave even a middle-aged accountant the confidence to hit on her.
Angela said, 'He wants to know if you play football.'
'Tell him no, I kidnapped you and the bag is filled with ransom money.'
She did, and he laughed.
They went through Bagnaia and passed the sculpted Renaissance gardens of Villa Lante. After that, the driving became more difficult and the views more spectacular as they climbed the steep grade into the mountains. The driver kept glancing at Angela, grinning and talking. His name was Dante Lanzetta and he worked in the Palazzo del Plebiscito. How was that for coincidence? Dante told them they had to see the Sasso del Predicatore. McCabe remembered reading about it, a huge stone monument called the Preacher's Rock. He'd like to see it but
