“It’s my reminder. Every day.” Angelo went to Stefano. “I’ll never let the Gleno happen again.”
He did not react, continued meditating on the photo.
Miss Medici broke the spell when she walked in with a tray of espresso and biscuits. Angelo waited until she had excused herself, and led Stefano to a leather chair across from his desk.
He took his own seat and said, “There’s something you must know if we are to work together again.”
Stefano, the cup and saucer balanced in his hand, looked expectant. The last time Angelo had sat with him like this, they’d had a bottle of wine between them and had discussed the need for Stefano to take the blame for the Gleno Dam break. It had been a terrible discussion, Angelo letting Stefano come to the conclusion himself, sacrificing himself for the “greater good” or some nonsense like that. It had left Angelo feeling ashamed, but if he had shouldered the responsibility himself and resigned as Minister of Civil Engineering, the alternatives would have been worse.
“Stefano,” Angelo finally said. “It was the Colonel who convinced me that you take the blame. That I help him to encourage you to do so.”
Stefano’s cup grated against the saucer, and he cleared his throat. He held Angelo’s look, unblinking, silent.
“And I agreed to it,” Angelo went on, “because I needed the Colonel to believe he still had an ally in me.”
“Still? You two fought over every detail of every project.”
Angelo nodded and opened his hands. “It was a charade. Much like my participation in the party.”
Stefano shifted in his seat, his mouth set in a hard, grim line.
“I must tell you this,” Angelo said, “because if you are to be my chief engineer again, it’s important that we trust one another. You still have time to change your mind, but I hope you do not. You and I have always thought alike—”
“That’s what I believed, at any rate.”
Angelo allowed him that. “I want to assure you that we do. But I had a goal. I had to divert the Colonel away from the Reschen Valley project by arranging the sale of the Gleno to him.”
“The Reschen Valley?” Stefano’s face contorted, and he scoffed. “Your favourite project?”
“I rigged the bids for him and his consortium on all the projects. I informed them what prices I was receiving from the Tyrolean companies. I helped secure his purchase of the Gleno.”
His face a mask of revulsion, Stefano shook his head, but Angelo continued.
“I did anything and everything to keep the Colonel in check, but I lost control. He was bribing our own people to pass the construction permits and inspections on the Gleno. He even went behind my back for that.”
He could see the tension in Stefano’s jawline as he placed the cup and saucer on the edge of the desk. “You rigged the bids? Those were sealed. You and Minister d’Oro established that process yourselves—”
“Yes.”
“It was your idea to do so!”
“To make it look legitimate.”
This had been difficult, but now he had it behind him. It was his chief engineer’s turn to make a decision.
“Christ! Elena was right not to come.” Stefano moved as if he would stand up and leave, but then threw himself back and folded his arms over his chest. “Why are you telling me all this?”
“I need to explain to you what had happened so that we can move on. A clean start, I suppose, is what I hope to achieve here.”
“What’s changed?”
Angelo tried to smile. “I’ll be turning fifty soon.”
“When?”
“In a couple of years.”
Stefano scowled. “Are you making jokes?”
“Not really. Listen, when he suggested you take the blame, I had to have the Colonel believe that I was going to work with him. But, Stefano”—he leaned forward, the need to win him over urgent—“I brought you here because I must make sure the Colonel does not get the Reschen Valley project. It begins with you and me.” He smiled, hoping he looked convincing and penitent enough. “I promise you, I’m a new man.”
Stefano laughed harshly, looked away, then considered Angelo, pushing the spectacles against the bridge of his nose.
Angelo raised his right hand. “I swear.”
“I don’t know what to think.”
“I understand. Let me prove it to you.”
Angelo took the map he had on his desk and turned it towards Stefano so that he could see it properly. “It begins by being personally involved with the people who will be impacted by our projects. We have to go to them, Stefano. Win over their cooperation, convince them that the government will take care of their losses better than any private enterprise. Even if MFE is never the official buyer or owner, whoever funds it will have the Colonel breathing down their necks. As soon as the mountain passes are open again, we’ll go.”
When Stefano stood and leaned over the map, Angelo turned it so that his man could have the better view.
“There she is,” Stefano muttered. “The Reschen Valley.”
He looked up, and Angelo knew Stefano was measuring him.
“So there’s no stopping this now, is there? Has Rome agreed to how the lakes will be raised? How big the reservoir will be?”
“Unfortunately, Rome is pushing the version proposed by the Colonel from the start, and MFE is courting the government to privatise it.”
“So all three lakes? How high?”
“Twenty-two metres.”
The scar on Angelo’s head itched, as it always did when discussions about the lakes and this valley arose.
Stefano nodded soberly. “You always fought this on the premise that it would be too costly to relocate hundreds of families.” He traced the three lakes from north to south—the Reschen, the Graun, the Haider—each located on a subsequently lower plateau, like a staircase. He looked up at Angelo.
