All He Saw Was the Girl (18 page)

    Ray
moved down the dock, turned when he was halfway across the lawn and saw them
drenched, coming out of the lake.

    Angela
put her purse on the kitchen counter and opened a bottle of Chianti Classico,
her last '97 Antinori, and poured herself a glass. She was tense, nerves
frazzled after a two- hour dinner with her father and his surprise guest,
cousin Joey from America, visiting for a few months, staying at her father's
villa outside Rome.

    Joey
had talked about himself through three courses: tagliatelle and fresh white
truffles that the owner, Signor Moro, sliced on their pasta at the table. The
secondo piatto
was veal chops that were as thick as a Russian novel. That
was followed by
insalata verde
and
formaggio,
tiramisu and
espresso.

    Joey
had talked about his house on Lake St Clair in an area called Harrison
Township. You should see the sunsets, Joey said. He talked about his boat and
about his cars, talking with his mouth full. Her father did not seem to listen
or pay attention. Sat hunched over his plate, shoveling food in his mouth, eyes
moving around the room.

    At
one point, Joey said, "What's with him?" Pointing to Mauro, her
father's bodyguard sitting at the bar. "What's the story, Unk, you don't
eat with the hired help?"

    He
grinned and gulped more Amarone, drinking it too fast.

    Her
father said, "Do not ask about matters that are not your concern."

    Angela
liked that, her father telling him to mind his own business. She could see that
Joey annoyed him too.

    Joey
grinned, "Take it easy, Unk, I'm just having some fun with you, yanking
your chain."

    He
rubbed his eyes and wiped his fingers on his pants.

    Angela
said, "What brings you to Rome?"

    "You
know, get away for a while," Joey said. "I been here four days, I've got
to ask you where the hot spots are at? Deadest town I ever been to in my life.
Lights out at like nine o'clock."

    Angela
said, "What are you looking for?"

    "Action,"
Joey said. "What do you think?"

    It had
been a couple of years since she had seen him. He looked older, heavier, most
of the weight around his middle like a tire that had been inflated, and his
hair was thinning on top, but these imperfections did not seem to affect his
confidence. He reminded her of an actor playing the role of a TV Mafia
character.

    When
Joey got up to use the toilet, Angela said to her father, "What is the
matter? You have not said a word."

    "How
can I?" her father said. "He never closes his mouth - even when he is
eating."

    He
picked up his glass, sipped his wine. She could tell he liked it, his
expression changing when he took a sip. His eyes looked across the room and
then back to her.

    He
said, "Are you still seeing that street punk?"

    "Are
you going to bring that up again?" He did business with Roberto, but did
not approve of him. She had been so careful, trying to keep it a secret, and he
had somehow found out. She was going to say: I see who I want, but said,
"Do we have to talk about this now, ruin the dinner, our evening?"
Because of Roberto, he had stopped supporting her, so as far as Angela was
concerned, she was on her own. She could see who she wanted.

    Her
father took another sip of wine and fixed his attention on her. "Are you
doing okay? You have money to live?"

    "I'm
fine," Angela said. Which was not completely truthful. She was almost out
of money, but with her share of the ransom she could keep going for a while.
She just had to get it from Roberto.

    "I
want you to help me with Joey. You need money, I pay you to come over and take
him out, get him away from me. He's driving me out of my mind."

    "Why
is he here?" Angela said.

    "He
is in trouble."

    "What
kind of trouble?" She looked up and saw Joey coming back to the table.

    "I
will tell you," her father said.

    Angela
said, "Why is he your problem?"

    "What
can I do? It's for my sister."

    After
dinner her father ordered a glass of grappa. Angela and Joey walked down the
street to see the Trevi fountain. Angela took his arm and they moved through
the crowd, around the side of the fountain to the front to get a better view.

    Joey
said, "What's this?"

    "One
of the hot spots, the big attractions of Rome," Angela said.

    "All
I see is a fountain. When I say action I'm talking about nightclubs."

    Angela
said, "No visitor can leave Rome without seeing the Trevi fountain. It's
called Trevi because three streets meet here:
tre vie.
Do you
understand?" "I know," Joey said. "I seen it before."
He was staring at the fountain. He pointed at a statue and said, "Who's
that again?"

    "Neptune,"
Angela said. "God of the sea."

    "That's
right," Joey said.

    They
walked up to the edge of the pool.

    Joey
said, "Look at all the coins in there."

    "People
throw in three thousand euros a day," Angela said. "For good
luck."

    He
grinned. "Tell me you don't believe that bullshit."

    A
vendor, an aggressive little dark-skinned Asian, approached them with an armful
of roses. "Want to buy?" he said to Joey, big smile.

    "No
want to buy," Joey said. "Get the fuck out of here. "

    The
vendor kept smiling and said, "Want to buy?"

    Joey
said, "Say that one more time I'm going to pick you up and throw you in
the fucking water."

    "Take
it easy," Angela said. "He doesn't understand you."

    "Let's
have some fun," Joey said. "Put Unk to bed, hit some clubs. What do
you say?"

    She
told him she was too tired, but would pick him up the next morning, and show
him the sights of Rome.

    "Oh,
boy," Joey said. "I can hardly wait."

    Angela
carried her wine into the bathroom, placed the stemmed glass on the sink and
filled the tub with hot water. She was going to soak and relax, drink her wine.
She could see the Colosseum lit up in the distance. This view was the reason
she had fallen in love with the apartment. It was expensive, but her father was
helping her in those days.

    She
took her clothes off and dropped them in a pile on the bathroom floor and
stepped in the tub, taking her time, getting used to the hot water. When she
was all the way under, water covering her shoulders, she heard a sound - like a
door closing. She thought it was Roberto and was disappointed, she wanted to be
alone tonight. More than that, she could see their relationship coming to an
end. She had lost interest in him, but didn't have the energy to tell him
tonight, so she would have to think of an excuse to get rid of him.

    She
said, "Roberto, is that you?" And then thought, who else would it be?
"I'm in here." They were supposed to split up the money. With her
share she was going to get away for a while — from her father who was trying to
run her life, and from Roberto who needed someone to run his, but not her. She
was thinking about Greece. Cruise the islands, lay in the sun for a week. Then
she was thinking about going to Paris. Stay at a nice hotel, shop and eat and
drink wine.

    She
finished her Chianti and reached her arm out of the tub and put the glass on
the tile floor. Now she stood up and grabbed a folded white towel off a warming
rack attached to the wall and wrapped it around her and stepped out of the tub
onto the Persian rug, a gift from her father. She dried herself and slipped on
a white terrycloth robe and went into the living room and put on a Magic
Numbers CD, a British group she liked, and played
Love Is Just a Game,
singing along to it, thinking about Roberto again. As soon as she received her
share of the money she would tell him the relationship was over.

    Oh
maybe I think, maybe I don't Maybe I will, maybe I won't…

    She
danced into her bedroom and turned on the light. He was sitting on the bed,
looking at her.

    McCabe
watched her park the Lancia on the street, and walk in the building, but it
wasn't the one he thought, the entrance was on the next block on Via del Monte
Oppio. Her apartment building was the last one, bordering two streets, with an
unobstructed view of the Colosseum lit up right there less than a hundred yards
away. He parked on Via della Polveriera and waited. He saw lights go on in an
apartment and saw her in the window that was open. He got out of the car. There
was a downspout that ran up the apartment wall a foot from her window. He
climbed it with his backpack on. Reached out and touched the window, pushing
one side all the way open. Now he reached over and grabbed the sill and jumped,
arms through the window, body half inside the room, legs hanging over the edge,
and shimmied his way in.

    He
got up and bumped the window and it closed with a
bang.
She must have
heard it. He was in her bedroom. He crouched next to the bed, listening. Heard
her call Roberto, but Roberto didn't answer. McCabe heard her turn the water on
and off a couple times. Heard her walk into the other room and put music on.
Heard her singing and was surprised how bad her voice was, worse than his and
that was saying something.

    She
had a robe on and was drying her hair with a towel when she walked in the room,
and turned on the light. She glanced at him sitting there and he sprang off the
bed and tackled her, trying to pin her down, surprised how strong she was. She
yelled and he put his hand over her mouth and she tried to bite him. He flipped
her on her stomach, sat on her, pulling her arms back, and wrapped duct tape
around her wrists. She yelled again and he put a piece over her mouth, and
taped her feet together. He flipped her on her back. Her robe had come apart
and he pulled it closed.

    He
could see her arms flexing, trying to rip the tape and pull her hands free.

    McCabe
said, "What's the matter? You're not glad to see me?

    She
glared at him.

    He
said, "Where's the money?" He pulled the tape off her mouth.

    "I
don't know."

    "Then
you've got a problem."

    He
went in her closet and looked at her clothes and took out some things and threw
them on the bed. He could see her eyes follow him. He went back in the closet,
opened the top drawer of her dresser, looking at panties and thongs, and saw a
small black pistol with a short barrel. He picked it up and went back in the
room and said, "This what you're looking for?"

    "You
better go some place and hide," she said. "Hope they don't find
you."

    He
put the tarp on the floor and unfolded it. He saw her watching him.

    "You're
making a big mistake," she said. "You have no idea."

    He
put the tape over her mouth again. "You're the one made the mistake."