David Hewson - The Villa of Mysteries

“You could deal with the autopsy queue perhaps. Your deputy looks ready to crack up.”

“Silvio always looks ready to crack up. You have to give these people some room from time to time, Nic. Can’t mother them every waking moment of the day.”

“Point taken. How about this? Take a look at Eleanor Jamieson. See if there’s any DNA we can use.”

Her pink eyes grew bigger. “DNA? As I keep pointing out to people around here, she’s been in a peat swamp for sixteen years. What do you think I am? A miracle worker?”

“Yeah. That’s what Falcone wants anyway. And while you’re at it, we’d really love to know who Kirk phoned while he had you locked in that office.”

She put a finger to her cheek. “Oh, let me think now. Can I remember the ring tones? Beep, beep, fucking beep. No, you just lost me there.”

“You asked. I answered. Now I’ve got to go. Bad guys to catch. Missing girls to find.”

She was dabbing at her nose again, looking a little happier for the conversation anyway. “Have you talked to the university woman since I stormed in there? Regina Morrison?”

He shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of. Why should we?”

“Regina was Kirk’s new boss. Somewhere in those files of hers she must have a list of every archaeological dig he’s ever worked on. Him being dead and what, I can’t check this out for sure. But where do you think a man like that would hide someone?”

Costa nodded. “Where did that thought come from?”

“I was putting myself in your shoes. Or at least I was trying to imagine what it was like being a cop.”

Teresa didn’t say it this time but he got the message. They should have thought of it themselves. They would have, if there’d been the time and the people to manage the workload.

“Thanks,” he said, and walked down the corridor, the last man to enter the room.

ADELE NERI DIDN’T BOTHER to put on a jacket when she went outside. Maybe she hadn’t expected to be there long.

“You’re shivering. Here.” Neri shrugged off his overcoat, walked behind her, and placed it on her bare, slim shoulders.

“You’re thoughtful tonight,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

“That tongue of yours is getting too sharp, Adele. It never used to be like that.”

He sat down at the table, making a point of brushing away the crumbs. She joined him there, in the seat directly opposite, looking uncomfortable, looking as if she were struggling to read his mood.

“We’re just at that stage of being married,” she said. “Where some of the sheen’s come off.”

He scowled. It was a lame suggestion. “Is that right? I don’t recall it being like this with anyone else. Not with Mickey’s mother. We were working. Then we weren’t working. Couldn’t keep our hands off each other one moment. Couldn’t stand the sight of each other the next. It doesn’t feel like that now. Not for me. For you… I dunno. You’re young. Tell me, Adele. Does the sight of me turn you on? Thinking about how old I am and that?”

There was a flash of edginess in her bright green eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous, darling. Why would you even think such a thing?”

“Why? Because I’m an ugly old man. Fat too. And you. Look at you. You can’t walk down the street without some kid giving you the eye.”

“Kids never interest me. You know that.”

“And I did interest you?”

“You do .”

“Maybe,” he said with a shrug. “Maybe it’s just the money. I don’t know any longer, Adele. The thing is, we got to spend a little time apart. That’s a practical matter. All this trouble I’ve got. There’s no reason to fuck your life too. It’s none of your business.”

She gave him an acid glance. Maybe she thought he was fishing for sympathy. “I’m your wife. Your problems are my problems. If—”

“No, no, no,” he interrupted. “You don’t need to give me that shit. You don’t have to pretend. We don’t have time. Let me put it another way. I don’t want you involved in what’s going down right now. That’s for selfish reasons too. It’s men’s stuff. We got things to do a woman shouldn’t have to know about. You’d complicate matters.”

He looked at her from across the table and felt no feelings for her. “Maybe some people are going to get hurt. If I have you close it might give the wrong impression. As if you’re part of it or something. Some of these southern families… you’d think the women are running them sometimes. Don’t work like that here. I want you separate from me because I don’t want to have to wonder what that mouth of yours is saying. Understood?”

She bridled at his suggestion. “I wouldn’t talk out of turn.”

“Who knows what anyone would do once those bastards from the DIA come calling? The cops I can deal with. These others—”

He looked at his watch. “The point is I’m going now and I don’t know when I’ll be back. If I’ll be back. We need some time apart.”

She nodded. Neri was unsure whether she was upset or not. “Where will you be?”

He gave her a glassy, dead-eyed look and said nothing.

“How will I contact you, Emilio? I’m your wife.”

He stifled a laugh. “Don’t worry. There’s money in the bank. You can pay bills. Buy stuff. Do whatever you like. Give me a couple of months. Then I’ll be in touch. Maybe we’ll have a second honeymoon. Maybe we’ll be ready for that by then. If you feel otherwise, I’ll call the lawyers. It’d be best to do it friendly if we can.”

“And now?” She looked as if she wanted to scream at him for behaving like this. She just didn’t dare. “What do I do now?”

He waved an arm around the terrace. “Stay here. You got a beautiful house. You can bring back all those servants you love. I know how much you hate cleaning up yourself. I could never stand the idea of servants. Myself I gave you your head on that one. Maybe I was wrong. Who’d want strangers in their own home? But hell, when I’m gone I don’t care what you do.” He made sure this last point came across clearly. “I don’t care who you see. I don’t care how you spend your time.”

She got up and took off his coat, laying it on his lap.

“You’ll be needing this,” she said.

“Yeah. Tell me one thing, Adele.”

“What?”

“You ever been unfaithful to me? Not that it matters anymore. I don’t care right now. I got bigger things to think about.”

“Why would I do that?” she asked.

“I dunno. For the sex. For the hell of it. Or maybe—” It occurred to him that neither of these would really move a woman like Adele. “Because it suited you.”

“Those are little reasons. Too small to get yourself killed for.”

He laughed. “Yeah. You’re right. You’re a smart girl. That’s what impressed me most about you in the beginning. I never liked stupid women.”

“Thanks,” she muttered.

“Just remember this. Things have got to come out in balance at the end. Some American creep kills one of my men. I do something in return. Someone screws with me. I screw with them. Except I do it better. Bigger. I make it final. I win because that’s how the balance is, that’s my place. This is serious stuff, Adele. You don’t want to go pushing your pretty face into it. Believe me.”

He stood up, walked over to her, kissed her on the cheek. Just one short kiss.

“You just stay here. Watch TV. Make yourself a drink. And when the cops come, you tell them nothing. Say I went fishing. OK?”

Outside a familiar engine was gunning hard. Tyres were burning along the cobblestones of the Via Giulia. Emilio Neri knew what this meant. The first part of the deception was under way.

“Ciao,” he said, and waddled towards the stairs.