And Then You Die (24 page)

‘Where on earth are we?’ he demanded.

‘It’s called Gorgona. I noticed it coming up on the left and it just looked so gorgeous I drove over to take a closer look. Then I saw this bay, and came in and parked.’

‘You should have woken me! There might have been rocks under water at the entrance. You could have wrecked the boat!’

‘Well, I didn’t. And isn’t it wonderful? No one here, and not a single sign that anyone ever has been. It’s paradise! Much nicer than wherever you were planning to take us.’

‘This is where I was planning to take us.’

‘But you said we were going to prison.’

‘Gorgona is a prison island. That’s why there’s no one here.’

Gemma looked at him in alarm.

‘Oh my God, I suppose they’ll be round with guns any moment to arrest us for trespassing!’

‘I doubt it. The prison is for inner-city juvenile riff-raff. Not the sort who have friends who might organize a getaway in a power boat. Security’s pretty minimal.’

‘How do you know?’

‘This is where they took me after I disappeared that evening in Versilia. I thought then how wonderful it would be to come back here with you some day, but of course I never thought it would be possible.’

Gemma smiled at him.

‘I didn’t know you were thinking of me then.’

‘Well, I was. And now I’m thinking of lunch. I bought this fish …’

‘I found it in the fridge. How did you get it?’

‘Oh, I hailed a passing fishing boat.’

She laughed.

‘Like hailing a taxi?’

‘Sort of. Anyway, it should be fabulous. What are we going to do with it?’

Gemma sat up and brushed the sand off her stomach. Her dark, prominent nipples showed through the wet brassiere.

‘All taken care of,’ she said. ‘I cleaned and scaled it and set it to marinade in oil and lemon juice. It should be ready by now. Fifteen minutes or so under the grill and we can eat.’

Zen got up and walked across the beach to the bottom of the rocky slope. The soil here was blisteringly hot. He took a few painful steps, inspecting the shrubbery and rubbing the leaves occasionally, then tore off two branches and skipped back to the sand, burying his seared soles for a moment in the cooler layer beneath the surface. When he could walk normally again, he returned to Gemma and handed her the branches.

‘For you,’ he said with a mock bow.

She inspected the gift.

‘Wild thyme and rosemary. Perfect! But it’ll get ruined in the water.’

‘I’ll look after it. Come on, I’m starving.’

They swam back to the boat, Zen doing a back crawl with his legs alone, holding the herbs high above the water with one hand. Gemma took them from him on the bathing deck and went to shower in the impressively equipped bathroom. She reappeared wearing, judging by various subtle signs, only her outer layer of clothing.

Gemma laid a table on the afterdeck under a canvas canopy that Zen cranked down on her instructions. Then they brought out the food and some white wine which Gemma had placed in the fridge earlier. The dining space was cool, airy and delightful. They ate ravenously, mouthfuls of succulent fish and crusty bread washed down with the tart, prickly wine.

‘God, this place is gorgeous!’ Gemma exclaimed. ‘Hard to believe that it’s a prison.’

Zen nodded.

‘It is, though. And we’re prisoners.’

She frowned.

‘You mean we can’t leave? That’s all right with me.’

‘No, we don’t have to stay here. We’re prisoners on parole, free to come and go as we wish, up to a point. But prisoners just the same.’

‘What are you talking about, Aurelio?’

It was the first time she had called him that. Zen laid his plate aside and lit a cigarette.

‘I can’t count how many cases I’ve dealt with that would never have been solved if one of the parties involved hadn’t decided, for one reason or another, to cooperate with the police. Well, it’s the same here. I’ve killed a man and you’ve helped me dispose of the body. There’s a very good chance that we’ll get away with it, I think, but only as long as we keep faith with one another. And I don’t just mean now, in the heat of the moment, here in this
paradise
. I mean back there in the real world, and for ever. That’s what I meant when I said that we’re prisoners. Not of the state, but of each other.’

Gemma smiled mysteriously. She seemed to be considering various possible answers.

‘Well, you’ll just have to make sure always to be very nice to me,’ she said at length.

‘And vice versa.’

‘But you’ve got more to lose. You actually shot him after all. I was tied up at the time, remember? A helpless female in peril. Anyway, the key thing is that we’ll obviously have to stay
closely
in touch, so that we can keep an eye on each other and check that the other person isn’t getting any dangerous ideas. In fact it would probably be best if you were to move in with me, for the time being at least. Otherwise I might lie awake worrying about what you were up to. I hate sleepless nights. Unless there’s
something
better to do, of course.’

They looked at each other for a very long time. Then Gemma yawned loudly and stood up.

‘All that food and wine’s made me sleepy. I’m going to lie down for a bit. Come and join me, if you want.’

She went into the saloon and through into the forward cabin,
where she removed her clothes and lay down on the bed. Zen remained where he was for a moment, staring up at the sky. A skein of high cloud was drifting in from the west. The weather was changing, and not for the better. They’d need to leave soon. He tossed his cigarette into the clear blue water and followed Gemma inside.

Michael Dibdin was born in 1947, and attended schools in Scotland and Ireland and universities in England and Canada. He is the author of the internationally bestselling Aurelio Zen series, which includes
Medusa, Back to Bologna
and
End Games.
He died in 2007.