‘Here.’ Purple Cloak pushes the topped-up water cup into her hand. ‘Don’t even think about wondering if you can run away. Even if I took you outside, you’d have no idea where you are, and our people are guarding all the tunnels and exit routes.’
Tunnels.
Was that a slip?
Louisa sips the water.
The more she thinks about it, the more she realises that the word tells her nothing. Rome is like a rat run.
The whole subsoil of the city is riddled with secret tunnels, caves, dungeons and ruins.
She could be anywhere.
She passes back the empty cup.
‘Good. Now, how about you make that call to your office and explain to us how we can recover Anna?’
‘I need my phone,’ she says wearily.
He clicks his fingers and someone goes off to fetch it. ‘I know. We brought you here so you can get a signal. It would have been impossible in the cells.’
Cells.
Plural.
Cells.
And tunnels.
Louisa pushes her luck. ‘I’ll need to go back home and change. I can’t go into work wearing yesterday’s clothes; it’ll look suspicious.’
He seems amused. ‘If necessary, we can give you fresh clothes, but you won’t be going home until all this is over. And if you don’t achieve what we want, then you won’t be going home at all.’
One of the henchmen returns and hands his boss Louisa’s phone.
Purple Cloak flashes a thin smile. ‘We’ve even charged it for you.’ He gives Louisa a long and considered look. ‘Now, who are you planning to call? What are you going to say? And how exactly do you intend to help us get Anna back?’
Louisa has thought this through. A hundred times. She clears her throat with a rusty cough. ‘We’ve taken her out of the hospital before. We took her to Cosmedin, near to where she was arrested, to see if we could unlock any memories that would help us with her therapy.’
Purple Cloak stays poker-faced. ‘Go on.’
‘I’m going to call my assistant and tell her to get Anna ready to go out again. I’ll say I’ve been reading through the case notes and want to take her on another cognitive trip.’
‘You can authorise that?’
‘Of course. That’s why you brought me here, isn’t it?’
He accepts her point. ‘Where would you say you were taking her? How will she get there?’
Louisa knows she has him hooked. ‘Wherever you like. You tell me.’
He thinks for a moment, then looks pleased with himself. ‘Piazza di Santa Cecilia. Do you know it?’
Louisa does.
It sends a shudder rippling through her.
‘Yes. I can go into work, collect Anna and bring her there with my assistant.’
He holds up the phone. ‘No. You’ll get your assistant to bring her. You only go free as and when we see Anna.’
That’s not the way Louisa was hoping to play things. ‘I’ll have to be there to sign her out,’ she lies. ‘It can’t be done.’
‘It can. Find a way. And remember, if you try to trick us, we will kill you.’ He passes the phone over. ‘Show me on the display who you are going to call before you press any buttons.’
Louisa takes her cell and thumbs her way through the electronic directory.
Her hands are shaking. She can feel her breathing quickening.
Another panic attack is on its way.
Finally she holds up the name and number for him to see.
He peers closely at the display. ‘Okay. Make the call.’
91
Valentina’s been lying awake for ten minutes.
She’s naked in bed, facing Tom and doing nothing but watch him breathing gently. Just being beside him makes her feel calm and safe. She can’t remember looking at a man in this way before. Just staring at him, studying him, trying to understand more about him.
She lifts her left hand from beneath the warmth of the quilt and puts it gently on the side of his face.
He shifts a little.
Right now he seems more like a baby than a man, and she has to stifle a laugh.
She scrutinises his face.
Her old boss Vito always said a man’s face was a map to his life. A thin white scar runs just below the hairline on the left side of Tom’s head.
A fall as a child?
A tumble off his first bike?
This little white snake looks old enough to be either.
She touches his hair. It’s thick and dark, but not completely black. It’s somewhere north of chestnut brown. She looks closer. She spots a few grey hairs in the part that joins his almost military-short sideburns. It suits him. Makes him look distinguished. He may be one of those rare beasts who gets even more handsome with the passing years.
Valentina’s cell phone rings. Her eyes dart in the direction of the noise.
It’s on the dressing table and out of reach.
Tom stirs.
She was hoping to keep him asleep a little longer.
She slips from the covers and quickly grabs the phone.
She intends just hitting the dismiss button, but recognises the caller.
Louisa.
‘Pronto,’ she says, somewhat apprehensively.
‘Valentina, it’s Doctor Verdetti.’ Louisa leaves no pause for a usual response. ‘I don’t have much time, so please don’t chatter like you normally do; just listen carefully for once.’
Valentina is instantly on edge.
Louisa has never called herself doctor, and the off-hand reference to chattering is peculiar, to say the least.
‘Tell me first,’ Louisa continues, almost brusquely, ‘what kind of night did Anna have? She looked awful when I last saw her. I’m hoping she’s much better this morning.’
Valentina quickly picks up on the verbal clues. Whoever Louisa is with, whoever has been scaring Anna so much she felt it necessary to sleep in a bed of bibles, doesn’t know she is dead – mustn’t know she’s dead – and is probably listening in right this second.
Valentina plays her part. ‘ Anna is all right. A little weak. I think you need to see her for yourself. When will you be coming in?’
‘Good, that’s exactly what I wanted to hear. Actually, I won’t be coming in. Just the opposite. I’ve been looking through Anna’s notes and have decided that therapeutically she needs another trip out. It will give us a chance to learn more about how she reacts to certain surroundings. Could you get her wrapped up nice and warm and bring her out to the Piazza di Santa Cecilia? I’ll meet you there.’ Louisa looks to the man in the purple cloak leaning close to her and whispers, ‘What time?’
