The Bone Chamber

14

Leonardo Adami glanced at his watch as he crossed the grande salone of his cousin’s palazzo, crowded with insufferable guests. The whole thing should have been canceled, propriety be damned. But Carlo would not hear of it, or rather his wife wouldn’t. She had too many friends to impress, too much of a reputation to keep up, and too tight a rein on the family finances. Had it been up to Leo, he’d have eliminated that little difficulty years ago, he thought, looking up to see a woman in a black Ferragamo dress, standing near the grand staircase.
Something about her seemed familiar, but before he could determine what it was, she turned away, walking toward the loggia. No doubt he’d seen her on the arm of one of the visiting dignitaries, probably in a more intimate setting, the sort they didn’t bring their wives to.
He put her from his mind, weaved his way through the guests to the far wing, up another flight of stairs to the third door on the left, then knocked sharply, before opening the door. His cousin was speaking on the phone, so he walked over to the bar and poured himself a drink.
“You have the money,” his cousin said. “And three days to make it happen, capisce. No more mistakes. And if the doctor balks, show him the picture of his mother’s house in India. That should gain you some cooperation.” His jaw tensed as he listened, then gave a curt “Ciao,” before dropping the phone in the cradle and turning his attention to Leo. “You’re late.”
“We had a few problems.”
“Where’s Alonzo?”
“That would be one of the problems. We followed Griffin from the ambassador’s residence to a hotel. It should have been simple…” He shrugged. “A woman got in the way.”
“Griffin is still alive?”
“And Alonzo is in his custody.”
Carlo walked over to the decanter, poured himself a drink. “Tell me exactly what happened, Leonardo,” he said, walking to the window, looking out to the courtyard below.
It was moments like this that reminded Leo why Carlo was still in charge of the family. No show of emotion, no indication that anything was wrong, nothing but the slight tightening of his jaw as he sipped at his drink.
When Leo finished, Carlo said, “What does Alonzo know?”
“He knew nothing. Not even why we were watching the ambassador’s villa.” Leo waited in silence for him to make up his mind.
“It’s time we sent a strong message. If they choose not to keep Griffin out of our business, then perhaps we can convince them another way.”
“How?”
“Do you still have her face? The ambassador’s daughter?”
“Of course not,” Leo said. “Your American counterpart didn’t want her identified too readily. He was not pleased with the method chosen to delay that identification.”
“And now they have her identified. In hindsight, it might have hastened the ambassador’s departure from Rome.”
“I would think that he will be leaving now.”
“See that he does.”
Leonardo tipped his head, turned to leave.
“One more thing, Leo.”
“Yes?”
Carlo’s gaze remained focused out the window. “Find out who that woman was. The one who prevented Griffin’s death. Let us send her face to Griffin. Perhaps then they will realize the full import of our demands.”


Sydney watched from the alcove as the driver emerged from the hallway. “Mr. BMW,” she whispered. “He’s out.”
She listened for Tex’s voice, but it was Griffin’s she heard over the transmitter. “Why the hell isn’t anything transmitting from the office?”
A slight hesitation, then Tex saying, “I couldn’t activate it. I’m still outside the window.”
“We call it off. I want you two out of there. Now.”
“I can do it, Griff.”
“That’s an order, Tex. Out.”
“Carlo’s leaving,” Sydney said. “I can see him in the hallway.”
“Let me finish it, Griff.”
“Negative,” Griffin said. The driver walked directly toward Sydney, and she moved around the column as he strode past. When he continued on into the salon, she breathed a sigh of relief, only to step right into Carlo’s line of sight just as he looked up.
“Hope springs eternal?” he said, when he neared her. “Dare I believe that you have changed your monogamous ways? Perhaps my enchanting little room changed your mind?”
“Or maybe that the wine has gone to my head and I’ve lost my way from the ladies’ room?”
“I should have forgone the phone call, and brought you a bottle myself.”
“I see you’re the incorrigible type.”
He grinned. “I try my best. More wine? I have a very special bottle of Vino Nobile di Montepulciano, Carpineto, 1991.”
“As much as I’d love to, I’m waiting for my boyfriend, who just left to get me a drink of something cold and nonalcoholic.”
“Then I’ll wait with you.”
“You should attend to your guests.”
“As you can see, they’re attending quite well to themselves,” he said, looking up, waving his hand across the room. “Ah, my cousin,” he said. “No doubt taken by your beauty.”
Apparently his cousin and Mr. BMW were one and the same, and he was bearing down on them, a frown darkening his expression. In case he might recognize her, she turned away, keeping her back to him, hoping that he didn’t see her. “I think I need a bit of fresh air. I’ve had entirely too much to drink.”
“Carlo!” Mr. BMW called out, and she took off just as Carlo turned to find out what it was his cousin wanted.
She wove her way through several people, glanced over her shoulder, and saw the man running toward Carlo, a definite look of recognition on his face as he called out again. “I’ve been made,” she said, hurrying toward the door.
“Tex?” Griffin’s voice sounded scratchy. “Where the hell are you?”
“Almost done, just making the connection.”
“F*ck the connection. Get out and get Sydney out. Now.”
“Done. Hitting the window as we speak.”
Sydney ran out the doors, grabbed two fistfuls of dress, yanking it up as she bounded down the steps. Heavy drops of rain hit her in the face. She glanced behind her, saw Carlo and Leonardo emerge through the doors. They hadn’t yet seen her, and she ducked behind a sedan. “I could use a little help here, guys. They’re on the steps, looking for me now.”
Griffin said, “Get her the hell out of there. Now.”
“I’m working on it.”
She heard Carlo shouting out to one of the valets, just as the sound of an engine revved. A moment later, a black Mercedes pulled up. “Hop in, darlin’,” Tex said, as he threw the door open.
“Stop them!” she heard Carlo shout.
She jumped in, closed the door as he took off. Wheels screeched across the paved stones. She buckled her seat belt. “This isn’t the Lancia we came in with.”
“I was a little pressed for time. And this was parked in front of it. Lucky for us, all the keys are conveniently left in the ignition.”
He sped toward the gates. Sydney glanced behind her, saw Carlo and Leonardo running toward the BMW that the valet was bringing around for them.
“We’re going through,” Tex said.
She turned, saw the gate, their car bearing down on it. Solid, massive. A guard stood front and center, his gun out, pointed at them. Tex stabbed the gas pedal. The guard jumped back, fired.
The driver’s window shattered. The Mercedes hit the heavy wrought-iron gate. Metal crunched. The gate flew off, tumbled over the car, bounced onto the roof, then landed behind them, taking a couple of torches with it.
Tex slowed into the turn, maybe a bit too much. She glanced back, saw the BMW gaining on them. The Mercedes swerved, and Sydney grabbed the dash. “Tex?” She looked over. Saw him slumped in his seat. “Tex?” she yelled.
He didn’t move. The car continued forward. The one working headlight lit up the curve in the road, the cliffs, and the lake below. She shook Tex’s arm. No response. “Tex!”
“What’s wrong?” Griff’s voice in her ear.
She grabbed the wheel as the car gained momentum. Rain splattered against the windshield. She steered into the curve. The back end started sliding. Just reach the trees.
Please, not over the cliff. Anywhere but the cliff…