The Italian Divide (29 page)

Parelli pointed to the computer on Alberto’s desk. “Check your financial accounts,” he said. “Make sure the money has been received by your bank.”

Alberto was itching to do that. However, his sense of propriety required him to say, “That’s not necessary if you tell me something is transmitted.”

“Please. I insist.”

As Alberto sat behind his desk and went to work on his computer, Parelli took a chair in front of the desk.

In a few seconds, Alberto confirmed what Parelli had told him.

“Your payment has been received,” Alberto said. “Thank you.”

Parelli reached into his briefcase and pulled out a dusty bottle of wine. With great care, as if he were handling a fragile object, he placed it on Alberto’s desk.

“It’s a bottle of our legendary 1945. Bottled after the end of the war. There’s never been a better vintage like it before or after. I only have three remaining bottles. I want you to have one.”

Alberto was overwhelmed by the gift. “I very much appreciate it. It’s something I will always prize.”

“Drink it on Ilana’s wedding day.”

“You and I will share it together when she announces that joyous event.”

“The wine is a small token of my gratitude to you for continuing to support me for so many years. I realize this went against all of your normal banking policies. By not calling the loans—even lending me more money—you put yourself in a position where you might suffer heavy losses, but because of our relationship and that of our families you still did it. And I really appreciate it.”

“I’m happy to hear that. Our relationship does mean a great deal to me as well.”

“I will want to ask your forgiveness for how I’ve spoken to you lately. I was in a desperate situation financially—which is no excuse— and I was being ripped apart by many in the media who claimed I want to destroy Italy.”

“Your program is certainly controversial.”

Parelli smiled. “That’s a polite way of telling me you think I’m wrong about dividing the country.”

“I do, but that was never the critical factor in my decision to call the loans. I was trying to operate as a prudent banker.”

“I can understand why you and others disagree with me, but I want you know that it is not my intention to harm—much less destroy— Italy. I believe my program is best suited for the entire country. Both north and south. Next to my family, Italy means the most to me. When I started down this political road, I had nothing to gain financially. In fact, I gambled everything I had to win this election—I wanted to give it my best shot.”

“That’s why I extended your loans. I wanted you to have every chance.”

“I realize and appreciate that. If I can ever do anything to repay you, I would happily do it.”

“Thank you. I would just like to resume our normal business relationship.”

“Absolutely, and I promise to repay every loan on time. I went through a bit of a rough patch, but my finances are alright now.”

Alberto wondered where Parelli had gotten the money to repay him, but he didn’t ask.

The phone rang. Alberto ignored it, letting his secretary answer. A moment later, the intercom rang. “Excuse me,” he told Parelli and picked up the phone.

“I’m very sorry to disturb you, but it’s Mrs. Goldoni. She said it’s extremely urgent. A family matter.”

Dora had never used words like that before. Something terrible must have happened. Alberto forgot that Parelli was in the office and activated the call on hold.

“Yes, Dora.”

She was crying.

“Tell me what happened.”

“It’s Ilana. She—She’s disappeared.”

He was frantic. “What do you mean Ilana’s disappeared?”

“Her roommate Cara called to tell me she didn’t come home last night. She didn’t go to class today. Last night her roommates thought she might have spent the night with a boy, although she’s never done that before. And she never misses class.”

“Did Cara call the police?”

“She only called me. She thought Ilana might have come back to Turin.”

For an instant, Alberto was paralyzed. Oh God, no. Not his Ilana. But he had to stay in control. He understood exactly what was happening. McKnight had arranged Ilana’s kidnapping to persuade him to sell. They better not harm Ilana. He’d strangle that Hong Kong banker with his bare hands.

“I’ll call Giuseppe right now,” Alberto said.

“Tell me what happens.”

“Absolutely.”

While Alberto checked his computer for Giuseppe’s number, he heard Parelli clear his throat. Alberto suddenly became aware that Parelli was still in the office. Indeed, standing in front of Alberto’s desk, he had heard every word that Alberto had said to Dora. He had to get rid of Parelli so he could call Giuseppe.

“I’m sorry, we have to terminate our meeting,” Alberto said.

“The bastards kidnapped Ilana,” Parelli said, sounding outraged.

“We don’t know anyone kidnapped her. All we know is that she’s gone missing.”

“Who are you involved with in business conflicts at this time?”

“You have to leave, please. I must call the authorities.”

“I promise I’ll leave. Just answer my question.”

“I can’t.”

“Nobody should use a person’s child that way.” Parelli looked indignant.

“Please leave me—”

“I will. But I’ll also do what I can to find Ilana. I have friends in the Bologna area.”

“No, no. Please don’t do anything. The authorities will—”

Parelli turned and left the office.

Alberto immediately called Giuseppe and told him what Dora said.

“I’ll get right on it,” Giuseppe said. “I’ll use people who are expert in matters like this. I’ll also tell Craig Page. He’s had experience in these situations.”

“Do you think McKnight kidnapped her? To put pressure on me?”

“That thought has been running through my mind.”

“I’ll kill McKnight.”

“Do you know if he’s still in Italy?”

“I don’t know.”

“Please don’t tell anyone else about Ilana. Tell Dora to keep it to herself as well. Secrecy is always better in something like this.”

“Sorry. I already did.”

Alberto told Giuseppe about his conversation with Parelli. “It was stupid of me, but I was so upset when Dora called. I forgot he was in the room.”

“What’s done is done. Hopefully, Parelli won’t get in the way.”

“Meantime, and this is critical, you have to let me know immediately if anyone tries to contact you about your daughter. We’ll hook up recording devices to your office and home phones. Make sure they are plugged in. If anyone calls, keep them on the line for one minute so we can get their location.”

“One minute is a long time for this.”

“I realize that. Thirty seconds for sure.”

*     *     *

In Paris, Craig’s phone rang. He saw it was Giuseppe and answered it immediately.

“I messed up,” a very distraught Giuseppe said.

“What happened?”

“Zhou and McKnight kidnapped Alberto’s daughter, Ilana.”

“Oh, no. Oh, no.”

“I should have given her protection. It’s all my fault.”

Craig felt equally responsible. He could have suggested it to Giuseppe, but he had thought that after McKnight’s second meeting with Alberto, the Hong Kong banker was satisfied he had a deal and wouldn’t have taken any action at least for a week. Craig’s guess was Zhou hadn’t been content to let events play along for that week.

“I’ve launched a major effort to find Ilana. Alberto will let me know as soon as he hears anything.”

“That’s all you can do. You’ll find her.”

Craig didn’t have much confidence in those words.

*     *     *

As soon as he finished talking to Giuseppe, Alberto went home to be with Dora and to wait for the police to install the recording device on the home phones, hoping the kidnapper would call.

As soon as he walked into the house and before the police came, his home phone rang. “Is this Alberto,” he heard in a Russian accented Italian.

“Yes. Who is this?”

“You better sell if you ever want to see your daughter alive again. This is your last warning.”

“If you touch her, I’ll kill you.”

The phone went dead.

The doorbell rang. It was the police with the recording equipment.

Beijing and Paris

F
ear gripped Elizabeth. Her knees were knocking.

Two minutes ago she had handed her passport to the official seated behind the glass window at Beijing airport. He had studied it and looked at her, and then back at the passport. And then again scrutinized her. Finally without saying a word, he pressed a button next to his computer. She knew what that meant: a question had been raised about her identity and whether she should be permitted to leave the country.

Seconds later, two powerfully built men in army uniforms, guns holstered at their waists approached her. One said, “Come with us.”

With one in front and the other behind, and Elizabeth pulling her suitcase, the three of them walked down a long corridor and ended up in a small dingy windowless office where a woman sat behind a desk with a computer and phone on top.

Elizabeth’s supposition was that Zhou had put out an alert for Elizabeth Crowder. Her life depended on her protecting her Simone Morey identity.

The men took positions in corners of the room. The woman, heavyset and sullen looking, with cakes of flesh under her eyes, pointed to a chair in front of her desk.

“Is there a problem? I have a plane to board.”

“I’m well aware of when your plane leaves. You have plenty of time. Now sit.”

Elizabeth did as she was told while trying to stay calm and keep her fear under control.

“This was a short trip for you, Miss Morey,” the woman said in English.

“Yes. I had a business meeting to attend.”

“What’s your business.”

Elizabeth was ready for this. “I’m with Total. The large French oil company based in Paris. In the development department.”

She hoped the woman wouldn’t check, but before leaving Paris, Elizabeth had spoken with a friend at Total who would communicate with his colleagues in Beijing to support her cover.

The woman didn’t reach for the phone or computer. Instead, she pointed to one of the men. “Search her bag.”

The two hoisted it on a table and carefully examined everything inside. It all fit the Simone Morey cover. Total materials. A couple of French paperback novels.

“Your briefcase.”

Elizabeth handed it over. Again, it was all consistent with her cover. She had packed it carefully.

“Okay. Stand up,” the woman said. “Strip down to your underwear.”

Controlling her anger, Elizabeth complied. The woman came out behind the desk and first checked Elizabeth’s clothes, which she had tossed on the chair. Then she checked inside Elizabeth’s bra and behind the front of her pants.

Appearing disappointed, she said, “Get dressed and take your things. You can board your plane.”

Elizabeth kept a grim expression on her face, not daring to show the relief she felt.

Half an hour later, Elizabeth was among the first to board. She took her seat in the business class cabin, 7B on the aisle.

Still no message from Mei Ling.

She was worried but tried not to panic. What had happened? Had Mei Ling been taken into custody and couldn’t even send a message?

Her leg was shaking. Her foot was tapping the cabin floor.

She checked her watch. It was ten minutes until the scheduled takeoff. As she looked up, a Chinese flight attendant, a young women, headed in her direction. She stopped next to Elizabeth’s seat.

“Are you Simone Morey?”

For an instant, Elizabeth forgot that was the name she was using. She recovered quickly. “Yes,” Elizabeth said anxiously, wondering if soldiers were outside the plane to arrest her.

The woman reached into her pocket and extracted a small envelope, which she handed to Elizabeth. The front of the envelope was blank.

When the woman walked away, Elizabeth ripped open the envelope. Inside was a piece of paper folded over. Typed on it was the word “No” and that was all.

So Mei Ling had been forced to yield to Zhou. That made Elizabeth’s situation even more precarious.

Anxiously, she watched the minutes tick down to take off. With two minutes to go, two Chinese men in mechanics uniforms came on the plane. Soldiers in disguise?

“We’ll have short delay for a mechanical problem,” the captain announced. Passengers groaned. They knew that the plane could be delayed for hours while repairs were made. Elizabeth gripped the armrest of the seat with white knuckles. Was this just an excuse to hold the plane until soldiers came for her?

She kept her eyes on the open cabin door. Nobody else entered the plane. After the longest forty minutes of her life, the captain announced, “We’re cleared to go. Just completing the paperwork.”

Take-off followed fifteen minutes later.

It may have been an Air France plane, but she wouldn’t be safe until they cleared Chinese air space. Before that, they could be ordered to turn around, and she could be pulled off the plane.

Hours later when the pilot announced, “We have now cleared Chinese air space,” Elizabeth was ready to shout for joy.

She signaled a nearby flight attendant. “I’ll have a glass of champagne.”

*     *     *

As soon as her plane landed at Charles De Gaulle, she called Craig. “Where are you,” she asked.

“In Paris at the Bristol. Waiting for you and hoping you’d call.”

“Oh, Craig, I love you.”

“That is music to my ears. Where are you?”

“At Charles DeGaulle. I’ll be at the Bristol as soon as the cab can get me there.”

That was thirty-five minutes later. When Craig opened the door to his suite, she took a look at his bruised face and blurted out, “Oh my God!”