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

Two minutes later, on the street outside the office, Conti had finished giving instructions to the policemen before getting back into the cars.

“Commissario,” said Rick, pulling out his cell phone. “This trip to the villa is going to take us some time. I should call my friend to tell her I’m going to be late getting back to the hotel. Since your men were following me, I trust you know about her arrival in Volterra yesterday?” Conti flicked his wrist to indicate that time should not be wasted on a long conversation.

***

Erica spoke in a low voice so that Dario wouldn’t hear. “You’ll excuse me for saying so, Donatella, but what a strange man he is. Though he does seem to be a very careful driver.”

They were walking slowly between a row of Roman columns and a low stone wall. Other than a small group of Japanese tourists clustered together a few hundred feet away, listening intently to their guide, they were the only visitors to the ruins on this morning. The weather may have had something to do with it; clouds were rolling in from the west, covering the archeological area, as well as the rest of the city, with a gray shroud. Both women wore thick-soled boots, perfect footwear for the combination of dirt and stone that was their path. Long wool coats protected them from the cold, and they both kept their hands in the pockets as they walked. Neither wore a hat. Even on the ski slopes Italian women preferred to let their hair, and hair style, be seen. Everything in their attire was casual yet practical, though the line between casual and chic in Italy was often a fine one.

“He isn’t just a driver, Erica, he does a bit of everything for me in the business. When I need some problem resolved, I usually turn to him.”

“The way he’s following us he seems to think he’s also your bodyguard.”

“I suppose so. Is that yours?” Erica didn’t understand the question at first, then fumbled in her purse to pull out a cell phone.

“Yes, Ricky. Did you call the hotel? I didn’t answer in the room because I’m not there.” She smiled at Donatella. “Donatella came by and picked me up, so we are catching up on each other’s lives while doing some sightseeing. And it was a wonderful excuse not to do my work. What? We’re at the amphitheater. You haven’t? Why don’t you join us? Benissimo. Yes, I’m being careful, and her assistant is here watching over us. See you in a few minutes.” She closed the phone and returned it to the purse. “That was Ricky, he—”

“He’s done at the museum and is going to join us. Got that.” She took Erica’s arm and leaned close to her ear. “I suppose we should talk about him before he gets here.”

Erica laughed softly. “I believe we’ve done enough of that already, don’t you think?”

Donatella did not match the laugh of her friend, and kept her eyes on the path while she formed a reply. “My contact with Ricky was strictly business, Erica, you know that.”

“Thank goodness for that, cara.” They walked several steps in silence before Erica spoke again. “Let’s leave Ricky for another day. You haven’t said much about your business, except it’s expanding. It must be going well.”

They turned to walk behind what had been the amphitheater’s stage, its outline now formed by broken walls and paving stones. At the far side of the stage a double tier of Corinthian columns was all that was left of the original decorations that ran the length of the structure. It had been a marvelous backdrop for those sitting in the arc of stone seats. Drama, comedy, Roman, Greek, all performed here. The two women made their way between what had once been the walls of the changing rooms to emerge onto the stage itself. High above them rose the north walls of the city.

“Business is going well, though there have been some set-backs, especially one recently, but that is the nature of any business. The problem that caused it was taken care of, and now we should be doing quite well. And I hope to do some business with Ricky. You won’t mind that I bring it up with him when he arrives.”

“No, of course not.”

Donatella looked up at the tiers of stone seats above them. “Isn’t this a magnificent place, Erica? You Romans build things to last, don’t you? One can imagine what it was like to be an actor in those times, the seats filled with the cheering public when you performed well.”

“No different than being an actor now, I suppose. Without a microphone, of course.”

While the two women strolled across the grass of the stage, Dario leaned his large frame against the stone and glanced back over the ruins. The Japanese tourists had moved to an excavation area that was covered with a corrugated plastic roof to protect it from the elements, a cover which could be put to use soon, given the gathering clouds. Two men in suits had come through the gate and were walking slowly toward the amphitheater. The taller one, his hat pulled well down over his head in anticipation of the weather, held up his arms like pointers, talking and gesturing toward parts of the structure as they walked. The other, younger and more stylishly dressed, looked where the first man directed, and listened intently, nodding in appreciation for the history lesson. Dario glanced at Donatella and then looked back at the two men, tracking their movement with a steady eye. They stopped, the one still gesturing as he talked. The two women were now seated a few rows up from the stage where they could see the ruins spread out below them. Something caught Erica’s eye.

“There’s Ricky. He has someone with him.”

Dario had taken his eyes off the other two men and watched the new arrivals, relaxing somewhat when he recognized Rick. Donatella