Falling rock.
The ground shook beneath her feet.
Another explosion!
“That should take care of the main entrance,” he said mockingly. “Did you think I'd let you get back to your fine villa? I always knew there was a chance you'd try to trap me. But I'm too clever for you.”
He was still far behind her. He was showing his contempt by walking slowly, strolling, she realized in a fury.
The passage. She fell to her knees and dove into the tunnel Trevor had taken. Aldo had said he'd set the charge close to the ledge near the vomitorium. Let this passage not be totally collapsed, she prayed. Let her be able to—
She could straighten, stand up. She could run!
“But how are you going to get out of here?” Aldo's voice was mocking as he crawled after her. “The other end has to be blocked by stone . . . and bodies. Are you going to crawl over them?”
“And how are you going to get out?” she called back to him. “That explosion closed your way out too. Trevor said it was like a maze down here. You'll get lost and die.”
“There are other ways out. I won't get lost. I know everything about these tunnels I need to know.”
“You lie. It would have taken you weeks to learn them.”
“Is that what Trevor told you?” He was closer behind her. Moving faster. “Wrong. You'll see why in—”
She stumbled over something . . . soft.
A body!
Blood. Throat cut.
The intake of her breath was almost a sob.
“Oh, you found him,” Aldo said. “Actually, I thought I'd have to point him out to you. I hid him behind that boulder. Someone must have moved him. Perhaps I'd better get on with this a little more quickly.”
She forced herself to move beyond that grisly body. “Who is it?”
“Quinn, of course.”
She forced herself to think, remember. Relief soared through her. “It's not Joe. Joe is thinner, tougher looking. So is Trevor.”
Aldo chuckled. “You're right. Just a little joke.”
“Sadistic bastard.”
“I'm entitled to my enjoyment of the situation. I've waited a long time for this.”
“Who is it?”
“Sontag. I looked up the real estate records in my computer and found the deed to the villa under Sontag's name. If Sontag owned the villa, then he must have known about the tunnels. My father told me he was a crook and there's no question he'd use those tunnels for his own ends. But when I realized you were going to use the vomitorium for that foul photo shoot I knew what a monumental task it would be to familiarize myself with this tunnel. I knew I had to go to the source.
He sounded closer. Find a weapon, any weapon.
He started again. “I paid him a visit and persuaded him to come down here with me and stroll around a bit. He was very cooperative. He even pointed out the secret passage and ledge he'd shown Trevor. After I got copies of the maps from him, I decided that he'd outlived his usefulness.”
“So you killed him.”
“I couldn't risk him running to Trevor. He had Sontag very intimidated.”
Another turn in the tunnel. She must be getting close to the end. She might run into a blockage at any moment. “You would have killed him anyway.”
“That's true. I admit it was a release. I've been very frustrated lately. Now that's at an end.”
“Even if you kill me, the coffin is buried under all that rubble. You won't be able to destroy that skeleton.”
“I'm in no hurry. It will take time for anyone to get past those rocks blocking the entrance. I'll have my chance. I hear you breathing. Hard. Very hard. You told me you were strong. How strong are you now, Cira?”
“Strong enough.” The rock was looser here. Shards were lying on the ground. She must be coming closer to the site of the explosion.
She'd be trapped. Find a weapon.
Get out of his sight.
She put on speed and dashed around the next turn. Her gaze searched wildly.
There!
She picked up an eight-inch shard and thrust it in the waistband of her trousers. Was it sharp enough?
“You're almost at the end,” Aldo said. “I have my knife in my hand. It's a surgeon's knife. Beautiful. Sharp. Efficient. One last face to remove. Do you know how much it hurts?”
“It won't be the last. You talk as if you have a mission but you're only a murderer. You like it too much.”
“It's true, it's my pleasure as well as duty to remove your face from the universe.”
“You see? But killing me won't do you any good. The skeleton in that coffin isn't Cira. Her name is Giulia.”
Silence. “You lie.”
“It was all a con.”
“Bitch,” he snarled. “You're lying. It's my time. My destiny.”
“You're a loser. Trevor got her skeleton from a museum in Naples. You can check it yourself.”
The walls were closing in on her.
The rubble was getting heavier, deeper here.
He was right behind her.
Jesus, she could see a wall of rock ahead!
Don't wait until she came to the blockage. Give herself time to maneuver.
“You're a fool. It was so easy to deceive you. You haven't won any—” She cried out as she stumbled and fell to the ground.
She heard his grunt of triumph. “Who's the fool?” His hand grasped her shoulder and jerked her over. “Even if I believed you, I'm still too—”
She drove the rock shard up into his chest with all her strength.
He screamed!
She rolled sideways and struggled to push him away from her. Lord, he was heavy, a deadweight.
But he wasn't dead. He was moving, the knife in his hand gleaming in the dim light of the flashlight she'd dropped on the ground.
She scooted away, searching wildly for another shard, anything she could use as a weapon.
“I won't die,” he whispered. “I can't die. It's not . . . meant. You're the one who has to die.”
“The hell I will.”
That rock—it was lying within reach. She crawled toward it.
His knife had entered her calf.
Ignore it.
Her hand closed on the rock and she rolled over.
Hit him. Hit him. Hit him.
But he was close, almost on top of her again. The first blow she aimed at his forehead barely touched him.
His knife was raised.
She struck his arm with the rock. Weak blow. It deflected the thrust but he still held the weapon. Try
