Later they had gone to investigate Signor Carsella's villa a few kilometers from the crime scene. On the way Arturo said, 'So how is everything with Carmen?'
'Don't ask, Captain,' Luciano said.
'Another argument?'
'This might be the end. We have not spoken for two days.'
'If you were married you would have to work things out,' Arturo said. 'This is what I have been trying to tell you.'
They drove up the steep hill toward the villa.
'I don't want to work things out.'
Arturo said, 'What do you want?'
'If I knew that,' Luciano said, 'it would be a lot easier.'
Luciano parked next to the main house. 'Have a look,' Arturo said, pointing at the outbuildings.
Arturo got out of the car and entered the villa, walking into the kitchen. Yes, clearly someone had been here. There were wine glasses on the counter with wine still in them, and food in the refrigerator. There was a bloodstained towel in the sink, evidence of a possible crime, but not much to go on.
He checked the cellar, well stocked with wine but nothing else. He checked the main room and the salon and the toilet room. Went outside, stood on the portico, gazing at the lush countryside.
He went back inside and up the stairs. In one room a bed was unmade, sheet and blanket folded back. There was a backpack on the floor. Arturo opened the compartments and found clothes and a pocketknife. In the bathroom there was a shaving kit and a toothbrush next to the sink, signs McCabe had been there, but no sign of McCabe. He heard Luciano come up the stairs and said, 'Did you find something?' 'Nothing. Now what, Captain?' Arturo was wondering the same thing.
Chapter Thirty-four
'It's over,' Angela said, relief in her voice. She was stretched out on one side of the queen-size bed. 'I can't believe it.'
They were in a small hotel on the outskirts of Soriano. It had been two hours since they had escaped from Pietro's villa. McCabe felt relieved too until he dumped the money out next to her, and counted it twice, getting? 437,000 both times. 'Sixty-three thousand's missing.'
'You really thought you were going to get it all back?' Angela said. 'I'm surprised they didn't spend more. Only three thousand.'
'What're you talking about?'
'Mazara gave sixty thousand to my father. He was supposed to give him thirty per cent, 150,000, and thought he could get away with it. So my father will be looking for him if he isn't already.'
She explained how it worked, how Don Gennaro received a share of everything, all of the criminal activity in Rome. McCabe had busted his ass to get the money and now this. 'Where's he live?'
'What are you going to do?'
'I don't know,' McCabe said.
'You think my father is going to give you the money? Are you crazy?'
McCabe said, 'I tell him I've got you. He wants you back, he gives me the sixty thousand euros.'
'I think he would prefer the money,' Angela said. 'You know I want you to have it, but listen to me, this is not going to work. I am trying to help you, give you some advice. Don't go anywhere near my father. Listen, I don't want anything to happen to you.'
That's how they left it. He put the money back in the bag, and ordered room service, appetizers and a couple bottles of Peroni. They'd spend the night in Soriano, and try to get a ride in the morning. He took out Angela's cell phone and dialed Chip's number, heard it ring and heard Chip say hello.
'I need you to do me a favor,' McCabe said.
'I don't believe it,' Chip said. 'Spartacus, you're a popular guy. I saw you on TV, your yearbook picture, and the car you rented that looked like somebody had taken a sledgehammer to it. Captain Ferrara stopped by school a little while ago and asked me what I knew.'
It was good to hear his voice. McCabe said, 'What'd you tell him?'
'My roommate's lost his mind and disappeared.'
'That's probably not too far from the truth.' McCabe told him what happened, what he'd done.
Chip said, 'You didn't really kidnap the Mafia don's daughter? Tell me you're making this up.'
'It does sound strange,' McCabe said, 'doesn't it?' He looked out the window, saw a half moon lighting up the sky over Orsini Castle.
'That's an understatement,' Chip said. 'I don't want to rain on your parade, but maybe she's playing along, that ever occur to you?'
'No, Dr Phil,' McCabe said.
'That's your ego talking,' Chip said.
'What do you know about it?'
'I've watched a lot of TV, seen a lot of movies. Girls like that are used to getting what they want. They're used to the good life. What do you have to offer?'
'I'll ask her.'
'But I think you've got a bigger problem,' Chip said. 'These guys you've gone up against are bad. You read about them in the paper, remember? They're not just going to give up. They're not going to go away. I hope you know that.'
Yeah, he knew it.
'Can the Mafia princess talk to her father on your behalf, put in a good word for you?'
McCabe said, 'From what she tells me they don't get along too well.'
'I'd give it a try,' Chip said. 'That, or call Captain Ferrara. The way I see it those are your options.'
'Or I could take the money and leave the country,' McCabe said.
'How're you going to get it through customs and airport security?'
He had a good point.
Chip said, 'Or I guess you can always shoot your way out.'
'That's a possibility,' McCabe said. 'We'll talk about it when you get here.'
Chip said he'd pick them up at ten the next morning.
Chapter Thirty-five
Ray had driven back to Mentana, and rented a room in a small hotel with a view of the countryside and Mount San Lorenzo. He needed a place to hang out and wait. He sat on the bed, thinking about Sharon, going over what he knew. According to Teegarden, the FBI had tracked her to Rome, arriving October 12th.
He also knew that if you were a foreigner staying at an Italian hotel your passport had to be recorded with the police, and there was no record of a Sharon Pope checking in any hotel in Rome. And there was nothing at all about Joey. His name had not appeared on any airline or cruise ship manifest, arriving in Italy or any European country in the past ten days. But he could've come here another way: by chartered yacht or jet. Or maybe he was traveling under an alias.
Ray's gut told him Joey was in Italy and he was staying at his uncles estate. No proof, not much to go on, but he was going to exhaust that possibility before he did anything else.
At seven he went to a small cafe with white tablecloths, and had grilled coniglio that tasted like chicken, roast potatoes, green salad, bread and a glass of house red. He was the only customer at that early hour and finished his meal, had his coffee and paid the bill before anyone else came in. It was 8:15 and dark when he went outside. He walked back to the hotel to lie down for a couple hours.
