The Italian Affair (13 page)

Next time, he wouldn’t miss.

At the hospital Gina saw her grandfather waiting for her in the corridor. He stood in the doorway of Maria’s room, a grim look on his face.

‘
Nonno
,’ she uttered. He gathered her in his arms in a bear-like hug.

‘You’re safe … thank God,’ her grandfather said. His glance moved to Rick, a slight nod in silent acknowledgement. ‘We did the right thing in hiring you. If you hadn’t been with Gina tonight …’ His voice tailed off.

‘I’m fine,
Nonno
,’ she reassured him.

Luigi gave a deep sigh. ‘Come, we must be with your sister,’ he said in a low voice. ‘It is only right.’

‘Were you here,
Nonno
? With Maria? When … when …’ She couldn’t bear to say, ‘when she died.’

‘
Sí
. We had just arrived.’

It brought some comfort, at least.

At first Gina was hesitant to enter the room, but it was expected of her. She took a deep breath, knowing what she was about to do would be one of the hardest things she had ever had to do.

Her gaze was drawn straight to the bed. To the prone figure of her sister. She stepped closer, her grandfather right behind her.

She looks like an angel. Hadn’t she said those same words to her sister on her wedding day?

Pain shot through her, so intense, she thought she would cry out. Her hand clutched the edge of the bed to steady herself. ‘Oh Maria….’ Gina’s voice broke. She bent closer and brushed her lips against her sister’s cheek, then smoothed back the tendrils of her hair. Her sister’s skin was still warm.

Her grandmother’s weeping sifted through to her consciousness. She was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. With a determined effort, Gina moved towards her, slipping her hand into her grandmother’s.

‘Nonna
…’ choked Gina.

‘I can’t believe it,’ Rosa sobbed. ‘First your mother. Now this. What is God playing at?’

‘I don’t know,’ answered Gina. She heard footsteps enter the room behind her. She turned. It was Anthony.

‘I came as quickly as I could.’ His gaze slid to the bed, then to Gina. ‘I don’t understand … she was getting better, wasn’t she?’ he said hoarsely.

No one answered. He stepped forward, standing next to Gina. Shortly afterwards the doctor joined them, explaining what had happened. ‘We did our best,’ he said. ‘I really am very sorry.’ His tone was completely sincere and Gina didn’t doubt him for one moment.

Gina mustered her strength and put her hand on the doctor’s arm. ‘I know you did and we’re all very grateful. Really we are.’

The doctor nodded, then with another sympathetic glance added, ‘I’ll make sure you’re not disturbed. Please … take as long as you like.’

Two hours later, Gina still stood beside her sister’s bed though her grandmother had long since left. She took a sip of the coffee Rick had fetched her, and winced. Bitter. So bitter it left a sour taste in her mouth. But, at least, it had shocked her out of the state of numbness.

Her gaze slid to Anthony, watching him. She could see his anger radiating in him. It frightened her. She had never seen him like this. He looked up, the light in his eyes fierce. ‘I loved your sister. No matter what you thought.’

She couldn’t help herself. ‘Really? Even when you were visiting your secretary?’

Anthony’s mouth tightened. ‘It wasn’t like that. My secretary was ill; I was concerned for her.’

‘What about all the other women?’ she accused.

‘I swear to you, I never touched another woman after Maria and I became engaged. It was only malicious gossip you heard. None of it was true.’

This town was filled with gossip. She hated it. Despair filled her. ‘I want to believe you but….’ She searched his face for any sign of falseness, but, to her surprise, she found none. Gina didn’t have the heart to fight with him anymore. Only one thing united them now: Maria. Perhaps he had loved her sister more than she realized. And she had been blind, her judgement flawed because of her own experiences.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said quietly. ‘I do believe you. Please forgive me.’

Dawn broke at five o’clock in the morning. When the sun rose, golden rays tumbled in through the hospital window as if creating an aura around her sister. The sunshine failed to warm Gina. She felt so cold and empty. Desolate. She had known times in the past when she had been low in spirit, but nothing she had experienced before had ever compared to this.

She hadn’t even realized Anthony had left until Rick came into the room. His hand squeezed her shoulder. ‘Come on, let me take you home. You need some sleep,’ he said gently.

For once, Gina hadn’t the energy to argue. She was glad someone was there to take over. With a sigh, she followed him out the room, feeling like her heart had broken into a million pieces.

Gina stood on the freshly mown lawn at the cemetery, dressed in a black lacy top and long skirt which rebelled against the hot February sun. She moved forward and threw the perfectly formed white rose into the open grave. She’d chosen white roses for purity.

She couldn’t have picked a better spot for her sister to rest, she thought, as she gazed at the ocean from the hillside. The sea reflected silver blue against the sky of the heavens. To the left and right and behind her, the sweet smelling pine forest, shades of dark green, stretched endlessly, over the mountains, framing the city and busy harbour.

Her vision clouded as the priest’s final words rang out. He made the sign of the cross.

‘Ashes to ashes … dust to dust….’ His violet robe, cuffed with embroidered gold, swayed as the wind breezed straight off the sea. The smell of freshly dug earth drifted past her along with her grandmother’s cloying perfume. She was suddenly conscious of someone in a light grey suit standing next to her and she knew it was Rick without even looking.

‘I’m right here if you need me,’ he said softly.

She nodded gratefully and dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief. In front of her, the polished mahogany coffin was being lowered into the grave with ropes by four men in black suits.

Gina felt herself slipping back in time to her parents’ funeral.
Only she had been a child then. And Maria had shared her grief, slipping her hand into hers for reassurance as they stood side by side at the grave. Gina distinctly remembered the red roses. Masses of them. She had never seen so many roses. When no one had been looking, she had slipped a tiny bud into her pocket and taken it home to press in a small book of poetry her mother had once given her. She still had the rose and the book.

Her grandmother’s husky voice brought her back from the past. ‘Rest in peace.’ A handful of fragrant rose petals were thrown into the grave.

Yes. Rest in peace, my beloved sister. But I will never be at peace until your murderer is brought to justice
.

Gina’s gaze swept the area. Many friends and staff from Rosselini Fisheries and some distant relatives had attended, as well as business associates of their family. Gina also noticed Senior Detective Brougham standing at the edge of the large crowd observing the mourners. Taller than most men, he stood out distinctly because of the way he held himself; a man used to giving orders. While she thought it respectful of him to attend, he had a reason as he had explained earlier on. It was commonly known that sometimes a killer would attend the funeral of their victim.

Her gaze skimmed from face to face.
Who is the murderer? Who hated them enough to do this
?

Near the cemetery gate, a lone figure of a woman stood half hidden by pink rhododendron bushes. She’s staring at me, Gina realized. Unease gripped her.

‘There’s someone over there, standing in the trees,’ Gina murmured to Rick.

‘Don’t worry, I saw her,’ Rick said quietly. He leaned forward, his voice low. ‘It’s probably just a spectator. I’ve already sent someone over to check her out.’

So that was the reason he had stepped closer, so close she could feel his breath on her neck. He was worried about her safety.

She glanced again at the pine forest beyond the pink flowers. Did
he really think there was someone in there waiting to shoot her?

The violinist began to play a haunting tune she recognized as
Meditation for Thais
. Notes drifted, rose, until finally a crescendo stormed the air, then gradually descended, the last note lingering so beautifully, it made Gina want to capture the notes in the palm of her hand and hold on to them forever.

Maria’s life had been too fleeting. She should have grown old beside her. They could have talked of their youth, their losses and their joys, the children they might have given birth to, the men they had known.

Now she would talk to a grave and no one would answer her back. She wanted Maria to know she had loved her dearly. That she had treasured their friendship as sisters. And valued their closeness. They shared a blood bond that even death could not destroy.

All these thoughts swirled around her mind until she felt like she wanted to scream with the unfairness of it all.

And the priest’s words droned on.

The watcher’s gaze fastened on Gina like a hunter looking for prey. The blood in his veins still sang from the havoc he had caused. He took in her slim figure and her tear-streaked face as she stood at the grave. Now she would know what it was like to suffer. To lose someone you loved. To lose everything you valued.

Punish all of them. Punish Gina
.

He knew perfectly well it was risky to attend the funeral, but was more than willing to do so. The voice in his head had urged him on.

He kept his head down, the fedora half covering his face. He stole the odd glance at those around him. Of course, they wouldn’t know who he was. With his immaculate well-cut black suit, polished Gucci shoes and expensive gold watch, he blended in with all the other well-dressed mourners. He’d placed himself in the middle of the crowd, well away from the detectives.

He had time on his side. Plenty of it. He couldn’t afford to make any mistakes. He thought about his next move.

The interment was nearly over. Gina lost count of the number of people who offered their condolences. Now she would have to face many more people at the Club Italia where refreshments were being served. Many families had baked and cooked, their own way of sharing grief. Her gaze settled on Anthony, talking quietly to her grandparents.

He was bearing up quite well, but then he was used to playing a part. Just like an actor. She’d seen him in action at the courthouse when Maria had persuaded her to go along. She didn’t want to feel negative about him, especially at a time like this, but she couldn’t help it.

Her grandparents spoke to her briefly, giving her a big warm hug before they moved away to the waiting limousine.

Minutes later, Gina found she was the only one left standing beside the grave. Dear God, she couldn’t move, didn’t even want to. For to do so would mean she’d have to turn her back on Maria, lying so alone in the ground.

‘Take all the time you want,’ Rick said, his voice low, as if he sensed her reluctance to leave.

‘I think Maria would have wanted me to stay a while. I need to be here….’

Rick nodded his understanding. He then moved away from her, but not too far that he couldn’t reach her in a few steps, if he had to. The security men were already making their way back from the forest having checked the area. She heard them say to Rick, ‘All clear.’

When Rick returned to her side, Gina asked, ‘Did they find the woman?’

‘No. Whoever it was disappeared very quickly.’ He guided her by the elbow. ‘Come on, how about we head down to the beach for a walk? The sea air will do you good.’

‘The beach?’ she said, surprised. ‘But everyone will be expecting
me at the Club Italia.’

‘Everyone will cope fine without you for a while. People will understand better than you think.’

Nearby, the watcher sat in his car waiting for Gina and the private investigator to climb into the limousine. No doubt, they would head to the Club Italia. He planned to go as well. But first he had to pick someone up along the way, someone he’d employed to do a job for him.

He started up the car and followed the limousine, keeping well behind. When the limousine signalled left to turn off the main road, he began to get alarmed. This wasn’t the way to the Club Italia. It looked like they were heading down to the beach. Frustration consumed him. He couldn’t follow them. Not dressed like this. He’d stand out. The only thing he could do now was carry on to the Club Italia until Gina arrived.

Putting his foot down, he sped right past.

The girl he was to pick up was waiting on the street corner, just as he’d planned. She was about sixteen years old, the daughter of one of the gang members he’d had dealings with. She’d been keen to earn some money and he’d promised her a hundred dollars.

‘You think you can do it? Just like I explained,’ he asked, after she hopped in.

‘’Course I can.’ She slid a glance at him. ‘Is that your real name, Mr Grey?’

He tapped his nose. ‘Never you mind. That’s my business.’

She made a face.

The huge breakers pounding the white sandy beach reflected how Gina felt. Her heart was torn, bruised and battered. An uncontrollable sense of anger shot through her. She felt like hitting out, at anything, anyone. Taking a deep breath, she focused on the waves as they churned and frothed. Somehow the turbulence made her feel worse.

‘A penny for them?’ asked Rick, walking beside her.

She sighed. ‘You don’t want to know.’

‘Try me.’

‘I just can’t talk right now.’ She was just too choked up.

‘Then don’t. Let’s walk.’

Walking might ease the rage, she realized. Or it might make it worse.

The sun belted down. Gina’s clothes were sticking to her back and tiny beads of perspiration ran down her spine. Already she could feel the sun reddening her face. On a day like this the sun could burn in minutes. ‘I should have brought some sun block,’ she murmured, not realizing she had spoken aloud.

‘I’ll borrow some. Don’t move. OK?’

Gina watched him. He made his way over to the surfers, a few metres away, who were busy waxing their surf boards. He came back with an orange bottle.

‘Courtesy of the surfing club,’ he informed her, as he squeezed a generous amount of lotion into her hand.

She flashed him a grateful smile. ‘Thanks.’

‘All part of the job, ma’am,’ he mused.

His words struck her hard. For the second time that day, she crumbled. Was that all it meant to him? A job? He was only doing all this for her because he was being paid for it, she reminded herself. How could she have forgotten that?

Somehow it made everything seem even worse. Upset she turned away and started to walk, eager to put as much distance between them as she could. She needed to be alone. Damn him.

‘Gina, where are you going?’ He caught up with her, touched her arm. Unable to bear his touch she jerked away.

‘Leave me.’

Rick tried to grab her again. ‘Wait.’

‘I don’t want you here,’ she retorted. ‘I’ve never wanted you here. Just get out of my life.’ Images of her dead sister, the casket, the priest hovering over the grave flashed through her mind.

This time he grabbed her arm firmly.

‘Let me go,’ she warned. She lifted her other arm and swung it round to hit him.

Rick’s reflexes were quick and he caught her arm in mid air. She started to struggle, but he held on to her tighter. ‘Let me go, will you?’ she shouted again, an element of panic in her voice.

She struggled, lost her balance and fell onto the sand, pulling Rick down with her. Winded, she looked up to see Rick half lying over her, still holding her wrists firmly. She couldn’t move.

His mouth was tight. ‘Why are you angry with me?’

‘Not at you.’ She was angry at everything. The whole damned world. Her words slipped out before she could stop them. ‘You’re fired, Caruso.’

He gave a low laugh. ‘You can’t fire me: you didn’t hire me in the first place.’

He’d done nothing but help her. And she was behaving like a spoilt bitch. Yet, still she couldn’t help herself. ‘I don’t need you.’

‘You’re wrong. You’re just upset. Not thinking properly.’

She knew he was right. But that didn’t make it any easier. Trying to twist away, she only succeeded in hurting her arm. He held her firm.

‘OK. I guess we’re going to be here all day,’ he threatened.

Stalemate. Her head turned to the side. She could see the surfers had put down their surf boards. They were heading their way to see what was going on. One of them pointed at her. Gina’s face flushed.

‘For God’s sake, they’re watching us. Let me up, will you?’

He shook his head, his eyes glinting. ‘Not until you calm down.’

If Gina hadn’t felt so miserable, she would have laughed at the situation. She swallowed hard instead, hoping she wouldn’t break down. Tears welled in her eyes. ‘OK … OK. I promise I won’t take another swipe at you.’

He released her hands and stood up warily. He held out his hand to help her up but she ignored it. She brushed the grains of sand from her clothes and swung her handbag over her shoulder. She
wasn’t putting up with this, she thought, with frustration. First thing, when she got back home, she was going to tell her grandfather she didn’t need a bodyguard any more. The murderer could take another pot shot at her for all that she cared. Maybe that would be a good thing. It would draw him out.

‘I’m going back to the car,’ she said.

He didn’t answer and, to her surprise, he didn’t follow her, though she could feel his gaze. It seared her. Don’t look back at him, she told herself. She knew if she did she would crumble.

Rick walked over to the surfers and held out the plastic bottle to one of them. ‘Thanks.’

‘No worries,’ replied a surfer with sun-bleached hair.

Another surfer stepped up and clapped him on the back. ‘Hey, mate, that was quick work. How did you get her flat on her back so quickly?’ He offered Rick a can of beer from their chilly bin.

Rick declined the beer, grinning. ‘It’s the Italian charm. I’ll give you some lessons sometime.’

He walked away leaving them chuckling to themselves.

In the limousine, he slid onto the seat next to her, saying nothing.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Gina, turning to face him. ‘I hadn’t meant to lash out at you. I’ve never hit anyone in my life.’

‘Forget it,’ he said quietly.

But Gina couldn’t.

The watcher pulled up the grey Nissan outside the Club Italia. He adjusted his wig and fedora in the car mirror. Satisfied no one would recognize him, he climbed out. He passed a patrol car with two officers sitting inside, busy talking. He gave them a quick glance and continued walking.

Instead of going in the front door of the Club Italia, they walked straight past and turned down an alleyway until they found the back entrance. A couple of full wine crates stood outside the kitchen door as did several empty blue plastic trays and cardboard boxes. He lifted up a crate of wine and entered the kitchen, the girl following
him. No one took much notice of them since the waitressing staff were too busy serving food. A security guard stood in the corner chatting up a waitress. The watcher’s heart started to pound as the man glanced at him as he approached. Fortunately, the waitress offered the security guard some oysters and the man was distracted.