The Bone Chamber

vulnerability of a bellissima donna-a beautiful lady left alone.”

“We’re hardly alone.”

“Something that can be immediately remedied if you but say the word.” He gave a mock sigh. “But being American, you are probably one of those ladies who are faithful to their…fidanzati, no?”

She merely smiled, casually glanced past him, noting the other men had moved from beneath the arch.

“Such a waste,” he said. “This idea that one must have but a single love in one’s life.”

“What about your wife?”

“Giulietta? She is the understanding sort,” he said, leading Sydney by the arm up the stairs, and no doubt out of hearing of the men he’d been conversing with. He stopped her midway, then turned toward the salon. “Do you see that delightful young man standing by the bust of Augustus Caesar? The tall blond man? He’s been her lover these past three years.”

“And it doesn’t bother you that she has a lover?”

“What is it you Americans are so fond of saying?” he asked, apparently forgetting his own heritage. “Variety is the spice of life?”

“Something like that.”

“Here, we say, ‘Ogni medaglia ha il suo rovescio.’ There are two sides to every coin,” he translated. “He makes my wife happy. That makes me happy.” No doubt because she was the one who bought him respectability in this country. “But what I am more interested in is what makes you happy.”

Somehow she doubted that. “For one, your stunning art collection.”

He eyed her, his expression filled with skepticism. “I have noticed your admiration. You seemed particularly fascinated by the Roman busts beneath my staircases.”

“Because I have a penchant for art history, which is what drew me to the busts in the first place. Especially that of Caligula. My understanding was that the majority of his likenesses had been destroyed after his assassination.”

He looked at her with somewhat renewed interest. “Perhaps because of his reputation, at least that written by his detractors.”

“And what was that?”

“That he was considered cruel, insane, and,” he said, leaning in close to her, and lowering his voice, “he indulged in sexual aberrations that offended Rome.” He straightened, watching her closely, and she had the feeling that whatever these aberrations were, he enjoyed thinking about them. “But Caligula’s errant reputation aside-”

“Errant or repugnant?”

“That would depend on one’s point of view,” he said, as he once again ushered her up the stairs, placing his hand at the small of her back to guide her. “What I find interesting is that very few of my acquaintances, certainly none here tonight, could look at any of these pieces and be able to discuss them with any authority. Perhaps that is why Signore Jamison brought you with him? To determine if the Tiziano he intends to buy is real or a forgery?”

“Hardly. My knowledge comes only from haunting museums and taking art history classes. These could all be forgeries or the real thing for all I know.” She hesitated at the top of the stairs. “Where are we going?”

“To show you what makes me infinitely happy.” His sweeping gesture included the vaulted frescoed ceiling-and as Adami and Sydney rounded the corner of the first landing, she looked up and saw naked Cupids flying after thinly draped Psyches with butterfly wings. They flitted among curving acanthus vines that ran over the breadth of the ceiling. Farther on, Pygmies wearing conical hats and wielding long spears hunted crocodiles, and ibises fluttered on a lotus-studded Nile, which seemed to cascade down over the cornices that separated the ceiling from the staircase walls on either side of the great hall. As Sydney’s eyes followed this painted Nile to its logical source above the center balcony that joined the twin staircases, the elegant grace of Greco-Roman temples gave way to the squared, but equally elegant, trapezoidal Egyptian temples with red and gold columns. At the very top, two sphinxes faced each other on either side of a great pyramid. From its central door, the tributaries of the Nile poured, dividing into two rivers, both of which went their separate ways, tumbling down on opposite sides of the double staircase.

Arriving at the top of the stairs, Adami escorted Sydney through the double doors, just under the pyramid. These led into another gigantic oblong room, elegantly furnished. Here, however, the artwork changed dramatically and was clearly a tribute to all things phallic. On the wall were paintings of satyrs with full erections, chasing naked wood nymphs, and young women mounting their lovers. A curio held wind chimes shaped like penises, as well as small statues of creatures and men, erections evident. Adami swept right past the displays and a conveniently placed chaise longue from which to view the artwork, as though barely noticing, and led her to some tall glass doors that opened onto a large travertine-paved balcony. Pushing one of the doors open, he said, “We are now standing above the Raphael Loggia.” As she stepped through the door, she was stunned by the view. The balcony overlooked the formal gardens that ended at a balustraded cliff that dropped sharply into the volcanic lake. Except for the marble nymphs and satyrs, the gardens were now deserted, perhaps because the wind had picked up, bringing with it a few scattered raindrops that mixed with the spray from the fountains and vanished into the winds of the lake.

“What’s on the other side of the fountain?” she asked, pointing to a winding path of moonstone that led to what appeared to be a garden house that overlooked the lake.

“A very, very special place,” he said, watching her as he spoke. “The collection in the room we passed through is but a small part of it. Perhaps one day I will show you…sooner rather than later. What do you think?”

“About your gardens?” she said, deciding that was a safer subject than the one he was intimating. “They’re magnificent.”

“Almost as magnificent as you are,” he said, his voice low, smooth.

“I’m in.” She froze at the sound of Tex’s voice in her ear, almost didn’t expect it.

“You are, perhaps, uncomfortable with my attentions,” Carlo said, eyeing her still.

“I-Yes,” she said, realizing that was as good a cover as one could ask for.

“Che peccato! I shall take you back to the festa.”

“Not yet,” she said, lifting her face, taking a deep breath, grabbing at any chance to stall Carlo. Tex needed at least five minutes in Carlo’s office to set up the listening device. “Don’t you love the way the air smells just before it rains?”

“Si,” he said, moving closer to her, so that his arm brushed up against hers. “I do.” His voice caressed her, made her think perhaps she’d taken this a step too far, especially considering the room they’d passed through to get here. She was saved from responding when someone stepped out on the balcony.

“Signore Adami?”

Carlo stepped back, looked toward the open veranda door. “Cos’e?”

“C’e una telefonata. E urgentissima!”

He hesitated, then, “Staro li, subito!” He took Sydney’s gloved hand. “You will forgive me, signorina, but I have some annoying business that I must attend to. A phone call.”

He bowed over her hand, turned it and pressed his lips to her palm. “Ci vedremo presto, cara mia!”

She forced a smile, watched him leave, then turned her back, pretending to look out over the gardens, ignoring the fat raindrops brought in on the wind. Leaning on the balustrade, her hands clasped together, covering her mouth, she said, “Hope you heard that, because he left in a hurry.”

“I did. He’s got an urgent phone call.” Tex’s voice came in clearly through her earpiece. “Which means he’s probably headed right for his office. You can’t stall him for thirty more seconds?”

“I can try,” she said, then turned on her heel and hurried through the offending room and down the winding double staircase. Carlo was weaving his way through his guests, heading through the main hallway toward the back of the house, when she finally spied him. “Carlo?” He didn’t hear her, and she pushed her way through, calling out again. “Carlo?”

He’d just reached the back passageway, stopped, turned her direction.

Suddenly she doubted herself, doubted her ability to handle anything about this operation. She didn’t know