Lust, Money & Murder (37 page)

He wondered if Giorgio Cattoretti was in it.

* * *

Cattoretti told Luigi to stop the Rolls at the entrance to the East Tower.

He motioned to Elaine. “Tony will be upset if he sees you like this.” She glanced down at her blood-splattered business suit. “Go clean yourself up and put those clothes in your wardrobe. I will take care of them later.”

Cattoretti got out of the car and unlocked the door to the tower. Elaine went upstairs, alone.

She tried to convince herself that Cattoretti had done the right thing by killing Gene Lassiter, and that Gypsy was okay.

* * *

At midnight, Nick LaGrange lay on his stomach atop the fortification wall. There had only been one guard on duty, patrolling the grounds, and after swimming across the moat, Nick had managed to avoid him.

Now, he could see the windows in both towers, as well as the windows along the inner courtyard.

For the past few minutes, he had watched a slim, black-haired man in an apron washing dishes. Then the lights had gone off and another set of lights had come on, in the next room.

He was using a laser microphone to try and listen to conversations inside the castle, but the tiny panes on the windows were so thick the device was of little use. He kept hearing a faint clicking sound and then realized that one of the rooms must have contained a billiards table.

All in all, the castle seemed very quiet. If there was a counterfeiting operation going on at this location, he could find no evidence of it. Cattoretti owned a score of other businesses where the Giori press could be located, the nearest one—and most likely candidate—a printing company called DayPrinto, S.p.A.

If he couldn’t learn anything here, he would see what he could observe there.

* * *

After Elaine changed out of the bloody clothes and showered, she put on a Fendi lounge suit and went downstairs. She found Cattoretti in the kitchen, talking to Tony. They were both drinking coffee. Cattoretti was telling him about the dinner they’d eaten at the restaurant. No one would have known that he had just been responsible for the death of one—and possibly two—people.

When Cattoretti saw Elaine, he motioned to Tony and said, “The chef at Il Luogo de Aimo e Nadia is the only chef in Milan that Tony holds in high regard.”

“Who say I hold him in high-a regard?” Tony said. “The man puts liqueur in his
tiramisù
! Original recipe for
tiramisu
no have-a liqueur. Which make him a
dilettante
, like all the others.” Tony looked at Elaine. “The problem is, we live too close-a to France.” He paused. “What Tony no understand is why
signore
eat at restaurants when he has the best chef in all of Lombardy workin’ right here in his own house!”

* * *

Cattoretti asked Elaine to go outside, to take a walk with him around the courtyard while he smoked a cigar. She had to take his hand to keep her balance on the uneven cobblestones.

“Are you cold,
cara
?” Cattoretti said.

“No,” she said, but he gallantly took off his tux jacket and put it around her shoulders. He took her hand again as they walked. “I’m glad to see you in higher spirits.”

It was true. Seeing Cattoretti and Tony together had raised her spirits a little. She didn’t think the man could be all bad, not if he had someone like Tony working for him.

“I hope that you understand that everything I did tonight, I did for you,” Cattoretti said. “I protected you, and I got the money back, money that you deserve.”

“Yes,” Elaine said, feeling guilty.

He shrugged, his cigar between his fingers. “It was a pity that Lassiter died, but it could not be helped. He was a small and selfish man, Elaine. Small men always get their just rewards. I think what he did to you was cowardly—there were any number of ways that he could have gotten the data key out of the United States. But he chose to use you to do it. Despicable and cowardly.”

The words made Elaine feel better, but she also felt that Cattoretti was trying to manipulate her.

There was a sound from somewhere above them. It sounded like a pebble rattling in a gutter.

Cattoretti looked up sharply. One of the guard dogs started barking on the other side of the fortification wall.

“What was that?” Elaine said.

“Probably an animal. There is a lot of wildlife around this castle.”

* * *

When Cattoretti finished his cigar, he walked Elaine up to her bedroom in the East Tower.

When they entered, he just stood there, gazing at her. There was a lustful glint in his eye.

“
Cara
,” he whispered, and reached up and tenderly touched her face. “You are so beautiful.” He moved closer, gazing down at her lips. She could smell the cigar smoke on his clothes.

Her heart was pounding, but not from lust.

“This—this is too fast,” she said. “You’re a very attractive man, but we hardly know each other.”

He ignored her, his lips suddenly pressing against hers. She fought it, but that only seemed to excite him. A prudent voice inside her head said,
You have no passport, and no money. In a matter of days this man will find out you lied to him about his fakes, and that they’re worthless. You had better get him liking you a lot more than he does now, if you want to see your next birthday!

He pushed her down on the bed, driving his body into hers. She could feel his erection pressing against her thigh as he probed her mouth with his tongue. His hands seemed to be everywhere, pulling her gown up, cupping her breasts, his fingers rubbing her nipples. She felt a dirty, almost pornographic sexual excitement, a part of her enjoying what he was doing to her.

Just let him have his way with you
, the voice said.

Her eyes fluttered open for one second...and she saw a red light on the ceiling.

She gasped, roughly pushing Cattoretti away.

“What’s wrong?” Cattoretti said, breathing hard.

“I...” Elaine tried not to look at the little dot of light. It was a laser beam, flashing on and off in what she thought was some kind of code. “I can’t do this now, I’m not ready.”

He frowned at her, then turned around and looked up at the ceiling.

At that instant, the little red dot winked out.

Elaine lay breathlessly on the bed, afraid it would appear again. She had recognized one word—it was Morse Code. The word that had hit her like a bolt of electricity. N-I-C-K.

He was outside somewhere. He had come after her!

Cattoretti was watching her eyes. The man had razor-sharp instincts.

“What is it,
cara
?” he said, looking back up at the ceiling.

Elaine sat up in the bed. “I’m—I’m just not ready for this.”

“I see. And when do you think you will be ready?” The words were spoken in a tone that told her it wasn’t a matter of “if,” only of “when.”

“I...I don’t know. A woman can’t give a schedule for these things.”

He got up off the bed and straightened his jacket, looking edgy.

“Very well,” he said. “Perhaps your feelings will change when we get to Vernazza.”

“Vernazza?” Elaine said.

“Yes. Since your passport will not be ready for a few days, I thought we would take a little vacation there. I have a small villa by the sea. It is very secluded, very romantic.” He smiled. “You will like it there.”

Glancing once more at the ceiling, he said, “Goodnight,
cara
,” and left, shutting the door behind him.

* * *

As soon as he was gone, Elaine went to the window and looked out. She could barely discern the courtyard and fortification walls—it was too dark to see anything else. She stood there a moment, then backed away, afraid that Cattoretti might see her.

She sat back down on the bed, goose bumps rising on her arms. Nick LaGrange was here! How had he found her? Was he here to rescue her?

About the time she started to wonder if she had imagined the little light on the ceiling, she heard a sound from the direction of the window.

* * *

Nick LaGrange was slowly making his way up the darkest side of the East Tower. He had thrown a grappling hook onto the roof and was climbing up the stone wall, afraid that the patrolling guard would see him.

He was still reeling from what he had witnessed out in the courtyard. If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn’t have believed it.

His Elaine was
here
, at this very castle. And apparently good friends with Giorgio Cattoretti!
Very
good friends.

It had shocked him so much he had nearly lost his balance on the fortification wall, kicking stone against the gutter. For a few seconds, when the dog started barking, he thought somebody would spot him.

What disturbed Nick the most was when he saw that Cattoretti and Elaine were holding hands. He remembered the day he had met her in Bulgaria, when he had held Elaine’s hand to play along with the Turkey Roll con. By the time they had gotten back to the office that day, he had fallen in love with her, though he hadn’t realized it at the time. Seeing Cattoretti holding her hand made Nick smolder with jealousy. Why the hell had she abandoned him in Bulgaria after they had slept together for the first time? It had been emotionally devastating for Nick. He still had not figured it out.

He rested for a moment, catching his breath, and then began to climb again.

* * *

Elaine rose from the bed, breathlessly watching the window as she saw a gloved hand push the shutters open.

“Don’t worry,” a voice whispered from the darkness outside, “it’s me, Nick.”

He swung in through the window.

He was dressed head to toe in camouflage fatigues, his face blackened with paint. All kinds of technical gear was hanging off him. There was a harness around his chest, a steel cable dangling.

She wanted to rush into his arms...but then she saw the look on his face.

Nick glanced over at the dresser. The Chopard diamond necklace was spread out on top. He looked back at her.

Only now did Elaine realize how this appeared.

“This—this isn’t what it looks like,” she stammered.

“No? What is it, then?”

She felt defensive. “It’s—it’s called survival, Nick.”

He glanced back at the necklace. “It looks like a lot more than ‘survival’ to me.”

Now she realized that he might have seen her and Cattoretti walking hand in hand in the courtyard—she remembered the sound they had heard.

“Nick—”

“Why did you abandon me in Bulgaria?”

“Nick...” There were tears in her eyes. “I should have listened to you instead of that awful old man. I’m sorry, I—”

“Why didn’t you respond to my letters?”

“Letters? What letters?”

“I traced you to that hotel you were staying at in Washington. I know for a fact they were delivered.”

Everything was becoming clearer to her now. “Gene Lassiter, that bastard...”

“Gene—who?”

“Lassiter. He’s the person I met in Germany, the one who told me you were under investigation. He told me you had been arrested, and had gone to jail.”

“You believed him, instead of me?”

There was moisture in her eyes. “Nick...please.”

He shrugged. “I’m just sloppy and lazy, that’s all. I never got around to changing those rubles.”

“I know, Nick, I made a stupid mistake. Can you forgive me?” A tear ran down her cheek. “I
love
you, Nick! I’m crazy about you!”

He noticed the little wind-up turkey sitting on the dresser. It lay on its side, one leg broken off. He cracked a smile. “You kept that dumb thing?”

“Of course I kept it!” Elaine said, tears now running down her cheeks.

He moved towards her, reaching out.

The door burst open.

Cattoretti was standing there in his tux, a pistol in his hand. His eyes cut at Nick, then at Elaine.

Nick reached for his gun.

Cattoretti fired. Elaine screamed. Nick staggered backwards. Cattoretti fired two more rounds.

Both hit Nick in the center of the chest. He hit the floor.

Wailing, Elaine rushed towards him, but Cattoretti grabbed her by the wrist.

“Who is he?” he shouted.

“Nick!” she cried, looking down at his lifeless body. “Nick!”

“Who is he?” Cattoretti demanded.

CHAPTER 3.13

The picturesque village of Vernazza was perched along the rugged coastline of the Italian Riviera.

It took a little over three hours to drive there from Fontanella. They left the next morning, immediately after breakfast.