Cold Tuscan Stone, David Wagner [i read book txt] 📗

“Signor Montoya, you have reappeared.”

Rick looked puzzled. Suddenly he remembered the rather unspecific assurance from Beppo during his briefings in Rome. The police in Volterra will be looking after you, his friend had said. It had not occurred to Rick that he had been under surveillance these three days, but now it made perfect sense. He would have to think back on his movements since his arrival to remember any strange people who could have been following him.

“So you were expecting me to stay in my room.”

Conti shrugged. “Never mind that, take off your coat and tell me where you’ve been. Since you have come here instead of the hotel, you likely were not making the rounds of tourist sites. There must be something to tell.”

Rick shed his coat and recounted in detail what had happened from the pick up outside the hotel garage until the drop off at the parking lot below the north wall of the city. Conti did not interrupt the description, but when Rick finished the questions began.

“You’re sure this wasn’t the man who called you.”

“Absolutely. He has a smoker’s voice which the caller did not.”

“So at least two people are involved in this. Three, assuming Santo is involved, and four if Landi is behind Santo.”

“My thoughts exactly, Commissario.”

“The car. Describe it.”

Rick was dreading this one. “A dark red Opel, four doors, late model, clean inside and out. I’m afraid I didn’t take note of the license plate.”

Conti’s reaction was relatively benign. “Your uncle would not be pleased.”

“I suppose you’re right, Commissario. Another thing. He drove off before I could get my English-Italian dictionary from the back seat.”

“Of course, the dictionary. It will help them deal with the American customs officials the man mentioned.” He gave Rick a tiny smile. “Do not despair. I’m sure the ministry will reimburse you so you can buy another.” He rose from the chair and walked to his favorite window. “So you say you drove out of a gate on the north side of the city, and then started on a route with many twists and turns through a forest.” He stared out the window as he spoke. “I know that area. I could easily get lost there myself. God knows where this cave is.”

“Not just God, Commissario.”

Conti turned and gave Rick a cold look. He was not in the mood for humor, at least not someone else’s humor. “Non capisco.”

“Well,” said Rick, “when we got back up to the car I told the man that I needed to answer the call of nature.” Conti’s eyebrow raised. “When I went behind the bushes, I took out this.” Rick reached into the pocket of the jacket that was draped over the chair next to him.

“A mobile phone?”

“No sir, it is a global positioning device. I turned it on and froze it on the coordinates at that spot. May I?” He reached across the desk for a pen and paper, laid the GPS down next to them, and copied some numbers. “There.” He passed Conti the paper. “The ravine is at this longitude and latitude. If you have a computer with internet access, I can locate it exactly.”

Conti looked at the numbers as he picked up his desk phone. “Martino, you are the computer expert. I have something for you.”

Five minutes later the uniformed policeman returned to Conti’s office and spread out a map on the table at the opposite side of the room. “It’s right here sir, about fifteen kilometers from the center of town, just off the road to Ulignano.” He placed another sheet in front Conti and Rick. “This is a satellite picture of the area, but unfortunately the resolution doesn’t bring it in that clearly.”

Conti shook his head in silent commentary on his personal relationship with technology. “Thank you, Martino, that was just what I needed.” Unaccustomed to such comments from his boss, the young policeman grinned and started to leave the room when Conti added, “Oh, could you tell Detective LoGuercio that our man is here with me and that I’ll talk to him later?” He exchanged glances with Rick and then turned back to Martino. “He’ll know what I mean.”

After the policeman was gone Conti gathered the maps and returned to the chair at the desk. Rick took to his regular assigned seat in front of it. After looking down at the map for a few moments, the policeman finally spoke. “Signor Montoya, it appears that you have been successful. Unless this is an elaborate hoax, and the urns you saw were fakes, the ministry was correct in sending you on this mission. As I told you when we first met, I was skeptical, to say the least, but I must now admit that I was wrong.”

Rick almost felt sorry for the man. Or perhaps he was feeling sorry for himself since this adventure, which he had been enjoying, was about to come to an end.

“At this point,” Conti continued, “we must bring in the ministry directly.” He consulted a pad on his desk and dialed a number. They both waited while a phone in Rome rang.

“Dr. Rinaldi. Commissario Conti. I have good news, I hope.”

A long conversation ensued between Conti and Beppo, while Rick sat silent. Toward the end Rick got on the line briefly to accept the congratulations of his friend and get Beppo’s promise that their next dinner was on him. It was agreed that Conti and a contingent of police would make a predawn visit to the cave and set a trap for those who would eventually have to show up. Beppo would leave Rome early enough to arrive in Volterra by midmorning. He would examine the urns for authenticity and see what was in the other rooms of the cave. Most importantly for Rick, the undercover work was done. When Conti finally hung up the phone the two looked at each other in silence before the commissario finally spoke.

“Let me ask you the same question that