Shout in the Dark (26 page)

The barman behind the counter of the village
bar stared at them suspiciously. The few men at the unwashed tables
watched them in a way that deterred Marco from asking
questions.

They examined the graves outside the
village church. Most were plain and simple, but a few had been
constructed as elaborate works of art in the form of Lilliputian
buildings. There was no way of looking inside these, and at the old
manse Marco was told that a neighboring parish priest now served
the village. As a welcoming tourist resort Monte Sisto scored a
definite zero -- even in the high season.

KESSEL HAD ALREADY fallen twice on the
steep path back to the car. Each time he fell he sat on a rock to
recover, still trying to contact Otto on the radio. The man was
probably asleep, or listening to one of Karl
's noisy tapes on the car
stereo.

Karl reached the bottom of the path first.
He disappeared for nearly half an hour before running back
anxiously. "Herr Kessel, Otto's gone! And the Audi!"

Kessel had always known the boy was a
fool. Obviously he'd been looking in the wrong place. "The station
wagon's in the small quarry by the road. You've missed it, that's
all."

"
I'm telling you, Herr Kessel, Otto's gone. So has the
Audi."

Kessel sighed. "He's probably driven to
the village to get chocolate or cigarettes. Give him five minutes
and I'll try him again on the radio."

Ten minutes passed, then twenty, during
which Karl roamed around looking for what he called clues. He
returned with the news that he had discovered a silver Alfa with a
black stripe, parked further round the hill. The engine was still
warm and there were some tools on the back seat.

"
There's no sign of the driver. I could get in and start it,
Herr Kessel!"

"
So?"

"
So we could both go back to Rome and give Otto a fright. He
deserves it."

Kessel tilted his head back and laughed.
"You are right, Karl. We have waited for Otto Bayer long enough.
Come, we will do it straight away."

"
ARE YOU SURE we parked it here?"

The resignation in Laura's voice revealed
that she knew perfectly well they had. She tried her cell phone but
was unable to get a signal. Marco found the same problem --
obviously a major drawback of living out here in this
place.

"
Stay here, Laura. Let's hide the detector and spade in the
bushes here, and I'll run back to the village to phone the
carabinieri
. I
saw a phone in the bar. I'll be as quick as I can."

He had not gone far down the track across
the fields when he heard the sound of car tires turning on the
gravel. Concerned for Laura's safety, he hurried back.

He was surprised to find Laura talking to
the driver of an old green Lancia with dented doors. Both the
Lancia and the driver were familiar. He tried to recall where he
had seen them before. The driver, a man of about sixty, had black
hair that looked dyed. Laura behaved as if she knew him.

As he reached the car Marco glanced down
inside. Now he remembered. This man had collected Laura outside his
apartment on the first evening.

"
Ciao
,"
Marco said, trying to sound sociable. "Laura's Alfa has been taken.
I was going to Monte Sisto to phone the
carabinieri
."

"
No!
I've just been telling Laura: whatever you do, don't report
it. I'll take you both back to Rome. It's not safe for either of
you here. Anyway, what the hell are you two doing?" He had an
unpleasant edge to his voice. "I told Laura to stay away from Monte
Sisto today."

"
Sorry," said an embarrassed Laura. "This is Marco
Sartini."

Marco would have shaken hands but the driver
kept a firm grip on the wheel, looking straight ahead.

"
I asked Marco to come with me," Laura explained.

"
And which of Laura's friends are you?" asked Marco, trying
to put on a brave face in this embarrassing situation.

"
I'm Bruno." The man wouldn't turn his head as he spoke.
"Bruno Bastiani."

Chapter
23

Via Nazionale

KESSEL WASTED no time in checking under his
bed as well as inside the telephone for bugs. In spite of finding
nothing suspicious he told the manager he required new rooms.

Throughout the evening he tried Otto
Bayer's cell phone number, and every time the recorded voice of the
operator gave the same reply. "The number you are calling has
failed to respond. Please try again later."

He did try again later, many times, with
increasing frustration. The disappearance of Otto and the Audi was
disturbing. Even if Otto had driven to the village of Monte Sisto
for a drink, and if his car phone failed or was out of range, he
would certainly have come back to the hotel here in Rome by now --
or at least contacted the hotel if he was having trouble with his
vehicle.

"
I don't know why you're worrying, Herr Kessel," said Karl
cheerfully. "Otto probably got fed up with being ordered around by
you. I expect he's driven back to Köln."

"
He had nothing to gain, Karl. The man is short of money. I
haven't paid him anything yet for his time and trouble. All I've
given him is cash for fuel."

"
He took plenty of photographs," observed Karl bluntly.
"They'll be worth much more than the few Italian lira you were
going to give him. Let's go and find something to eat."

Kessel ran the comb through his hair and
felt no resistance. The haircut in the Via Nazionale had only
emphasized its sparseness. "You're right, Karl, I can try Otto's
phone again when we're out. But it puzzles me why he doesn't
answer, even if he
is
on his way
back to Germany. With a car phone like his you can pick up a signal
anywhere."

Karl didn't sound as though he cared.
"Just think of all the money you've saved, Herr Kessel."

"
If you think...!" Kessel stopped as a thought hit him. The
youth had been gone a long time at Monte Sisto, and that was when
Otto failed to answer the radio.

"
Now what's the matter?" Karl asked.

Kessel knew he must choose his words
carefully. The skinhead had already demonstrated he was a killer,
and he had no intention of ending up impaled on that damn
paperknife. "I'm wondering about Otto's Audi."

"
What about Otto's Audi?"

"
I promised you a station wagon like that."

Karl stood up. "You promised me
that
one."

Kessel tried to speak softly. "But you are
not concerned that Otto has taken it away?"

Karl shook his head, looking
self-conscious. "I didn't know what you meant, Herr Kessel. Otto
wasn't going to give it to me willingly. I thought maybe you
planned to blackmail him."

"
Blackmail? How do you mean, blackmail?" Kessel felt a
little more secure now.

"
Well, you know, a
perverser Mensch
like that must have plenty of things he wants to
hide."

"
Then you don't mind about the Audi?"

"
What's happened has happened," said Karl without feeling.
"Look, Herr Kessel, even if you're not hungry I am. You can stay
here -- I'm going to find some food."

Karl stamped from the room. Kessel stayed
behind, making one last attempt to reach Otto. As the receiver
buzzed in his ear he wondered where Karl really was going. Perhaps
he was on his way back to Monte Sisto to collect Otto's Audi.
Perhaps to bury the body. Maybe the youth was just
hungry.

The recorded voice repeated the
all-too-familiar message.

Kessel felt exhausted. He slammed the
telephone back onto its rest. The more he tried to assume total
command, the less control he appeared to have.
Damn the boy! Damn Otto! Damn
the ADR!

Marco
's apartment

MARCO WAS ONLY just back from seeing
Father Josef, and about to undress for a shower when the doorbell
rang twice
-- one long
and one short. It was Laura's special ring. He stuck his head out
of the window. She was standing back in the street, and he waved to
her before running down the central stone staircase to the front
door.

"
Who's the old dragon who keeps looking out of the window
when I ring the bell?" Laura asked.

"
That's Signora Silvini. She owns the place. She's probably
suspicious that you keep coming here to visit a priest." He winked.
"Come on up."

Laura was wearing a low-cut evening blouse
of white silk, and a short black skirt, which might have raised
Signora Silvini's suspicions. "I want to apologize. I've been a bit
ratty with you lately. Wrong time of the month, if you know what
that means."

Even without Anna, without sisters and
female cousins, Marco would have known of the monthly suffering --
what his father once called the monthly suffering endured by males
the world over. This could be the right time to let Laura know
something about his past.

He laughed. "Of course I know what it
means -- I've been married." It was so easy to say. Why had he been
putting it off?

Laura looked up quickly. "You sound as
though you mean it."

Marco sat down and breathed in slowly.
"It's true. Her name was Anna. We got married when I was
twenty-one."

"
But..."

"
Three drunks killed her in a racist attack at the Spanish
Steps. Six years ago. Two years of a happy marriage -- and then a
life alone."

"
O God, I'm sorry. All my crass remarks..."

"
Thanks. It's silly, but I didn't know how to tell you." He
looked down at the carpet, trying to hide his face. "It was like
the end of my life. Slowly, I came back to the Church. That's when
I decided to become a priest -- of sorts." He felt the adrenaline
kicking in. What had he meant by that? His failure to become a
practicing priest? It couldn't be anything to do with Laura. His
suppressed desires seemed to be speaking without his control. The
adrenaline kicked harder now.

"
You're certainly full of surprises, Marco."

Laura seemed to be looking with an
increased awareness, as though acknowledging a shared experience of
sex. Or was it his imagination? Time to change the subject. "I've
met Bruno Bastiani now, so how about meeting Riccardo Fermi?" he
asked.

A smile flashed across Laura's face. "I
came to tell you. Riccardo is working with me on this
story."

"
And you're sure he doesn't mind me being
around?"

"
Of course not, I have to work with men all through the
year." Laura laughed and sounded her old self. The month must have
ended abruptly. "Riccardo Fermi is a journalist. He would never be
jealous of me working with a priest -- even an ex-priest," she
added with a mischievous grin.

"
He's not outside in the car is he?" Marco asked
quickly.

"
No, we're meeting Riccardo and Bruno later. That's why I'm
all dressed up. We're going out for a meal, and Riccardo's treating
us on expenses. Bruno won't be with us until later. He's a press
photographer. I expect you've seen some of his work in the gossip
columns -- if you look at that sort of trash. He's sorry he was
rude when he picked us up at Monte Sisto. I think you'll find he's
in a better mood tonight."

"
Then I'll look forward to the meal. I've only just got in.
I'm sure those flies from Monte Sisto are crawling all over me. I
haven't even had a chance to take a shower."

While Laura read a magazine, Marco stood
under the cool spray and tried to clean away the worries about the
day. The water and the shower gel removed the dust, but did nothing
to dispel the impression that all was not as it seemed.

As he turned off the taps, Marco decided he
would have to be careful what he said during the evening. The
feeling persisted that someone was setting him up, perhaps someone
within the Vatican.

THE DARKLY LIT restaurant was
like hallowed territory for
Marco. For the past three years his student allowance had never
stretched to such luxury. Here were candles on the tables, and
smartly dressed waiters ready to attend to every whim. From his
days in the used car trade he knew that the darker the restaurant,
the more the food would cost. A quick look at the menu confirmed
the accuracy of this conclusion. As for the company -- Riccardo
seemed pleasant enough.

Earlier in the bright light of his
apartment he'd noticed Laura's low-cut blouse. Here by the dim
candlelight he became aware of just how much bare skin was showing.
He knew of two reasons why he must divert his eyes and his thoughts
from Laura's substantial cleavage. One was a moral one; the other
was the presence of her observant boyfriend Riccardo.