direction of the Contini Hotel. As she drove, she seethed.
She had been furiously angry for years. The man who’d owned the Residenza had been a reprobate who had resisted her attempts to make him spend money on the property. When she’d moved the law against him he’d always found a way to wriggle out.
And then, just when she’d thought she had him cornered, he’d pulled a final rabbit out of the hat, signing over the building to Luke Cayman, so that she had to start again. It was a moot point whether she were angrier with him or Luke Cayman.
And now, to find herself defending the enemy, was enough to make her explode.
A cool head would dictate placating him, saving him from the gallows-figuratively speaking-then turning on the charm. But she was too incensed to consider it.
By now dawn was breaking, covering the sleeping city with a soft white mist. In the distance she could see the Contini, a huge, luxurious building created from an ancient palazzo. She could hardly believe that the ruffian she had left in the cells was actually staying here.
Luckily the night receptionist was dozing and it was easy to slip past. On the third floor she found Luke’s room without trouble. It was large and lavishly appointed, with a balcony.
She went out and stood regarding the view as the light grew brighter. To her right lay the lush green lawns of the Borghese Gardens. To her left she could see the Vatican, the early sun just touching the dome of St Peter’s. Between them glided the River Tiber.
It was a marvellous scene, full of peace and beauty.
A rich man’s scene, she thought crossly. For only a rich man could afford to stand in this exact spot and see such wonders spread before him. And one particular rich man had thought it amusing to leave his wealth briefly behind and go out slumming it for fun.
He’d got more than he’d bargained for, but in the end he had only to send someone to his expensive hotel, to go through his expensive clothes and put everything expensively right for him. And all the while his tenants lived in a building that was falling apart.
For a moment she was so livid that she almost stormed out, leaving everything behind. Let him take his chances! See how funny he found that!
But her professionalism took over. She would do her job.
She surveyed the suits in his wardrobe until she found one of a dark charcoal colour. To go with it she chose a white shirt and a dark blue silk tie. Then she rummaged in the drawers for clean socks and underpants. As she had more than half expected, he wore boxer shorts.
She packed everything into a bag she found in the wardrobe, then opened the wall safe using the plastic card that had opened the door. Inside she found his wallet and checked it for the ID card. It was there, and so was something else-a photograph of one of the loveliest young women Minnie had ever seen.
She was wearing trousers and standing, leaning against a wall, her thumbs hooked into her belt, one foot up against the wall in a pose that emphasised her height and slender grace.
Like many beautiful women Minnie was fascinated by beauty of a different kind in others. Where she herself was fair, this was a brunette with marvellous dark hair streaming down to her waist, giving her an exotic, mysterious look.
She was also wonderfully tall. As a child Minnie had dreamed of growing to five foot ten and becoming a model. In the end she’d had to settle for five foot four, or ‘nothing very much’ as she’d crossly put it.
But this was how she’d always longed to be, with legs that went up to her ears and a neck that came from a swan.
‘Grr!’ she said to the picture. ‘Who are you? His wife? His fiancee? Girlfriend? Whoever you are, you’ve got no right to look like that.’
She replaced the picture carefully in the wallet, which she then put in her own bag, to take to him.
From a distance she heard the bell of St Peter’s, chiming seven o’clock, and realised that the light was growing fast, the city was waking and she still had much to do.
She should call Netta, but a quick rummage in her bag revealed that she’d left her cellphone behind. Using the bedside phone might be indiscreet. That left Luke Cayman’s own cellphone. After a brief hesitation, she took it and dialled. When Netta answered she kept her tone light.
‘Netta? That silly boy has been up to his tricks. He drank too much last night, got into a brawl and he’s at the police station.’
She heard Netta give a little shriek and hastened to add, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll sort it. It’s not the first time.’
‘Oh, Minnie, you will get him out, promise me.’
‘Don’t I always? But I need you to get down there with some clean clothes so that he can look good in court. It’ll just be a fine and when you get him home you can make him sorry he was born.’
After a few more reassurances she hung up. Before putting the phone away, she studied it a little, tempted by its state-of-the-art appearance, and making a mental note to replace her own with one exactly like this beauty.
She was about to switch it off when it rang and, before she could stop herself, she answered it.
The action was completely automatic, and only when the word was out did she realise what she’d done.
The caller was a woman, sounding a little surprised at hearing Minnie.
‘No, this is his phone. If I could explain-’
The other voice became warm and charming. ‘My dear, there’s no need for you to explain. I understand perfectly. I should apologise for calling so early, but I overlooked the time. Please ask Luke to call his mother when he can spare a moment.’
‘Yes-yes, I’ll do that,’ Minnie stammered, for once not in control. ‘Er-it won’t be in the next few minutes, I’m afraid-’
‘That’s all right. I was once young myself. I’m sure you’re extremely beautiful.’
‘But-’
Well, that was that, she thought crossly.
Luke’s mother thought she was his girlfriend, rising from the sheets after a night of passion, and about to dive back in for another riotous round of pleasure.
She could have screamed with vexation.
For precisely one minute she sat there, taking deep breaths. Then she finished packing, taking care to switch off the phone before it could ring again, and hurried out of the room, just managing not to slam the door behind her.
At the police station she showed Luke’s ID card at the desk before going to the cell.
‘There’s just the “drunk and disorderly” to deal with, and I assume you have no previous convictions?’
‘None,’ he assured her.
‘You’ll go before a Justice of the Peace in a couple of hours. He’ll fine you and that’ll be the end of it.’
He was looking in the bag she’d brought. ‘You’ve done a great job. These will make me look like a pillar of the community.’
‘Hmm!’
‘I won’t ask what that means. I’m sure you’re longing to tell me.’
‘But you’re not going to give me the satisfaction. Very wise.’
He declined to answer this, but his harsh face softened and there was briefly a devil in his eyes. Suddenly Minnie remembered his mother’s mistaken assumption, and she had a horrid feeling that she might be about to blush.
‘I’ll see you in court,’ she said, and departed with dignity.
Netta returned home with Minnie to cook her some breakfast while she showered, ready for court later that morning.
