‘I have no idea. He wants me to take them back to that ironmonger’s and deliver the receipt to an address up by the cathedral. He said they were not for sale. But of course you already know that.’
‘Yes, but I don’t have the address. Show me that note.’
Mantega handed it over with a sigh.
‘Please be discreet in the manner in which you handle this aspect of the operation, dottore. If Giorgio begins to suspect that I have betrayed him, he will come to me and kill me! You understand?’
For a moment he had forgotten himself, and immediately feared that the chief of police might take offence. But Zen ignored not only his remarks but the entire subject.
‘So now you have to show these little beauties to the American treasure hunters in order to demonstrate the genuinita del prodotto.’
‘That’s right.’
‘Well, get busy. Things are moving more and more quickly, Signor Mantega. We must adjust to their rhythm if we don’t want to be left behind.’
‘I’ll do it as soon as I return to my office.’
‘You fool! I’ll be listening in anyway. Do it now.’
It was an order. Mantega got out his phone.
‘How are you, Tommaso? Good, good. Listen, I have a message for your boss. The samples we discussed are now in my hands and I can bring them to your hotel at half an hour’s notice. But they are extremely valuable and I have been given strict orders not to let them out of my sight at any time. I therefore feel that on balance it might be best not to proceed until the person who is to examine them has arrived. Could you therefore let me know as soon as that occurs, whatever hour of the day or night it may be? I’ll expect your call.’
He closed the phone and glanced at Zen. They were on the superstrada, near Carabinieri headquarters and the new railway station. He could pick up a cab there.
‘Can I go now?’ he asked.
There was no reply. Zen’s silences felt far more menacing than anything he said, so Mantega was relieved when he finally spoke.
‘Let’s suppose that these samples are indeed certified as genuine. How do you propose to supply the merchandise for sale?’
Mantega had given a considerable amount of thought to this.
‘I shall handle that part of the negotiations. Obviously we can’t invite them to view the assembled treasure and then pick and choose what they want, since we don’t have anything to show them. But such a sale would have to be shrouded in secrecy, for the protection of the buyer just as much as the vendor, and even the richest man on earth wouldn’t be able to afford the whole hoard. When the time comes, I shall play on that aspect of the matter and try to elicit from the Americans what sort of objects they are interested in.’
Zen picked up the gold plate, whose essence seemed to hover fascinatingly between the soft glow apparent to the eye and the substantial weight of the mass beneath.
‘All right, suppose that they say that they really fancy this dinner service, only they’d like the whole eighteen-piece set.’
Mantega smiled complacently.
‘We have a long tradition of artisan work in Calabria. The lute and guitar makers of Bisignano are famous all over the world. Their ancestors were brought here from Naples centuries ago by the Calopezzati family. Isolated from all subsequent developments, they went on making their instruments just as they always had. When the use of those old instruments was rediscovered, they were the only craftsmen in the world with an unbroken tradition. It’s as if the heirs of the great Cremona violin makers were still turning out seventeenth-century fiddles. What’s true for them is true for many other trades, including goldsmiths. You may consider us ignorant provincials, dottore, but our isolation has served us well in that respect. Once we discover what it is exactly that these people want, a suitable replica can be discreetly crafted at very short notice.’
‘Very well, but Giorgio is only likely to appear when the money is handed over. How and when exactly will that take place?’
‘I shall follow a variant of the procedures for a kidnapping ransom.’
Zen eyed Mantega in a way that instantly deflated his earlier pride.
‘Ah! I’ve suspected all along that you were familiar with such matters.’
Mantega swallowed that down.
‘The case is of course not identical. With a kidnapping, the sentiment of the family is a major factor. On occasion, they will even pay without seeing the hostage first. That doesn’t apply here. Clearly the payment and the handover of the goods must be simultaneous, giving both parties a chance to ensure that all is in order. I shall suggest my villa as a suitable location, and I guarantee that Giorgio will be present. When it comes to large amounts of money, he doesn’t trust anyone but himself.’
Appropriately enough, they were now crossing the Ponte Alarico back into the city, within easy walking distance of Mantega’s office. Zen told the driver to pull over and let his passenger out.
‘You’ve got forty-eight hours to set up a meeting with Giorgio,’ he said. ‘After that, I’ll take you back into custody and proceed by other means. And don’t dream of betraying me in the smallest degree. You are complicit in the kidnapping and murder of an American citizen. Giorgio might kill you, but I’ll call my contacts at the United States consulate in Naples and have you renditioned off to wherever they’re outsourcing their torture these days.’
Gheorghe Alecsandri arrived shortly after nine that evening on a flight from Rome. When the passengers emerged, Martin Nguyen was waiting in the foyer beside his driver, who was holding up a sign with the Romanian’s name printed in block capitals. Martin had vaguely been expecting an exotic creature from the Caucasian steppes — embroidered linen blouse, floppy black pants, knee-length boots — but his hireling turned out to be indistinguishable from all the Calabrians pouring off the plane after a busy day in the capital.
Once they were in the car, Martin produced an envelope and handed it over.
‘Your fee, Doctor Alecsandri.’
The academic then made what would have been his first mistake had he been attempting to pass for one of those local commuters. He smiled, broadly, warmly and with apparent sincerity.
‘Please call me George,’ he said in impeccable English.
Martin noted approvingly that he immediately opened the envelope, extracted the sheaf of hundred-euro bills and counted them. Nguyen respected caution.
‘So, you wish me to deliver an opinion on some antiquities,’ Alecsandri said. ‘May I enquire as to their provenance?’
‘No.’
‘Ah. And neither, I assume, about your interest in them, Mr — ’
‘That’s right.’
Alecsandri looked away. It occurred to Martin that he might have sounded a bit curt, a shade too American. Business was business and the guy had already been paid, for Christ’s sake. On the other hand, Martin knew that Europeans could be awful sensitive about their precious proprieties, and he needed to keep this guy sweet for now.
‘The fact of the matter, George, is that I’m acting on behalf of a friend,’ he said, with as expansive a gesture as it was in his nature to make. ‘The items in question have been offered for sale by a third party. My friend is interested, but naturally wishes to ensure that they are genuine. Others are interested too, so we need to keep the whole enterprise absolutely secret for the moment.’
‘Of course, of course,’ the Romanian murmured. ‘You can count on my discretion.’
Martin phoned Tom Newman.
‘He’s on the ground. Get Mantega round with the samples. We’ll be there in forty minutes, max.’
In the end, it took twenty-five. At one point, Alecsandri pointed to the driver and whispered, ‘This man’s a maniac!’
‘ Un romano,’ replied Martin.
Alecsandri tossed his head lightly, as if that explained everything.
The conference began an hour later in the sitting room that formed part of the suite which Jake occupied. It had been delayed by Alecsandri’s desire to shower and change, and the length of time it took Martin to prise Jake
