Blind Alley

FIFTEEN

Jane opened the car door as Joe drew up before the brick building. “Why don't you park and I'll go inside?”

“No way.”

“I told you I wanted to do this alone, Joe.”

“You can do it alone. After I check out the office and make sure it's safe.” He smiled crookedly. “That's the job you gave me and that's the job I'm doing.” He parked in a spot near the building. “Now you can jump out and be as independent as you please as long as I'm right behind you.”

Jane ruefully shook her head. “Joe, do you know how weird that sounds?”

“It works for me.” He got out of the car. “Get moving.”

She started quickly toward the double glass doors of the entrance. “As long as you stay behind me. I don't want to scare him off. You can be intimidating.”

“I wish I could intimidate you.” He opened the door for her. “And you're beginning to be a little intimidating yourself.”

She shook her head. “Not me.” She moved toward the girl dressed in jeans and a tunic sweater who was sitting at a desk in the foyer while Joe leaned against the wall, his gaze focused on the row of desks and cubicles to the left of the foyer. “Hi, I'm Jane MacGuire. I called this morning and made an appointment with Samuel Drake.”

A smile lit the girl's freckled face. “Hi, I'm Cindy. Sam said to send you right in.” She lifted the phone and pushed a button. “She's here, Sam.” She hung up and nodded. “Go for it.”

Both the receptionist and the office itself breathed casualness and informality. The attitude was encouraging and exactly what Jane had hoped it would be. “Thanks.” She walked toward the door that bore only the brass letters S. Drake and opened the door. “I appreciate you seeing me, Mr. Drake. I promise I won't take long.”

“Sam.” Drake rose to his feet. He was tall and lanky, dressed in khakis and blue T-shirt, and looked not a day over thirty. “Take as long as you like.” He grinned. “It probably won't do you any good, but I'll enjoy the show. Your phone call interested me and I'm a simple soul who doesn't need much to intrigue him.”

She didn't believe that for a minute. He might be easygoing but there was keen intelligence in those blue eyes. She braced herself for the fight to come. Study him, search out any weakness, and use it. Ambition? Perhaps. Security? She doubted it. It could be he just wanted to be liked and respected. That would be easiest to handle. Sit down and chat for a few minutes and see if he revealed anything. “Then maybe I can entertain you for the next quarter hour or so.” She smiled and moved toward the visitor's chair beside his desk. “Or maybe we can entertain each other. You're very young to hold down such an important position. It makes me feel much more comfortable about approaching you. I have to admit I was a little nervous. . . .”

She phoned Trevor that night when she got back to the lake cottage. “We've got Archaeology Journal.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Drake is going to run a short article in this week's issue about Sontag's find. It won't be a total confirmation but close enough. He wants you to e-mail him a photo of the bust of Cira. He promised he'd blur it so that Aldo wouldn't recognize it as the one he sold to that collector. He'll need it right away if he's going to insert the story in—”

“Slow down,” Trevor said curtly. “How the devil did you do it?”

“You said you didn't have time and we needed them. So I went to Drake's office and did it myself.”

He swore long and obscenely. “You left the cottage and went to Newark?”

“Not alone. Joe went with me. He made sure no one knew I'd left here, and was there to protect me.”

“The idiot.”

“No, he's smart and tough and did what I asked him to do.”

“Where was Bartlett? I'm going to strangle him.”

“I told you, Joe's smart. It's not Bartlett's fault. He wasn't expecting to have to watch for us to slip away from the cottage.” She paused. “And I did what was needed. I was tired of listening to you tell me about how everything was moving so splendidly when the only thing I wanted was to do something. So stop cursing and send Drake that photo.”

He was silent a moment. “How did you convince him?”

“It wasn't easy,” she said wearily. “I almost blew it. I couldn't read him. Then I saw something in his expression and I had the key. . . .”

“The key?”

“He's aching to be an adventurer. He's tied to a desk reporting on dry-as-dust discoveries when he wants to shake the world.”

“And how did you come to that conclusion?”

“I was talking casually, feeling him out, and I hit it lucky. I was joking and mentioned Indiana Jones. He lit up like the Fourth of July.”

“He wants to be Indiana Jones?”

“There's nothing wrong with wanting to be a hero. So I gave him his chance. I told him the whole story about Aldo and the connection with Cira and how we needed him to spring the trap. I pulled Joe in to show him how upright and law-abiding we were. And I also promised him an exclusive after we catch Aldo. And, unlike you, I'll keep my promise. Now what's the next step?”

“You stay there and don't move a muscle.”

“I'll do what I please. Tell me how we get Eve invited to Herculaneum after Aldo reads the confirmation in the magazine.”

“We do two days of prep work in the newspapers having Sontag talk about forensic sculptors and the need to get the foremost professional in the business to do it. Then we wait another couple days and have Sontag announce his choice.”

“That's almost another week of waiting.”

“Then that's what we'll do.”

“I should think you'd be able to hurry it.” She yawned. “I'm too tired to argue right now. I was up all last night researching the magazine and convincing Joe that helping me was the right thing to do. I'm going to bed. Remember to fax that—”

“My God, you're formidable.”

She felt a pang of hurt. “I don't know what you're talking about. There was a job to do and I did it.”

“And the most formidable thing about you is that you don't realize it. You probably made Drake so dizzy that he didn't know whether he was coming or going.”

“I only gave him what he wanted.”

“Heaven protect us poor males if you ever pull out the big guns.”

“If you have to rely on heaven, then you're pretty sorry and don't deserve to be protected. And I'd think you'd be grateful instead of whining.”

“I am grateful. And mad. And scared.”

She couldn't deal with this any longer. “The hell you are. Get over it. Send the photo.” She hung up the phone.

“He didn't like you leaving here?” Eve asked from behind her.

“No.” She turned to face Eve. “Why should he be any different? You and Joe hated it too. But you finally agreed that I could do it.”

“Oh, I didn't have any doubt you could do it. I just wish I could have been there to watch you in action.”

Jane frowned. “But you were angry when you thought I was manipulating Joe.”

“That was Joe. Aldo's made this a war zone. As long as you don't hurt innocent bystanders, use any weapon you can.” She smiled. “But next time I don't want to be the one to stay here and keep the home fires burning.”

“You'll be in the middle of it once we get to Herculaneum. If we ever get there. Trevor is taking baby steps during this stage of his precious con.”

“Which is probably smart,” Eve said. “I approve of delicacy in the final stages. I've learned I can ruin everything in my reconstructions if I get in too much of a hurry. Though I agree it's hard to wait. Get to bed soon. You look like you're ready to drop.”

“I am.” She motioned to Toby and moved down the hall. “I'm going to sleep like a rock tonight.”

“With no dreams?” Eve asked quietly.

“You mean of Cira?”

Rocks falling, striking. Pain. Blood.

She shook her head. “I haven't dreamed of Cira for a long time. Maybe it's over. Maybe I'll never dream of her again.”

“Don't be too sure. Considering that everything we're doing is about Cira, I'd be surprised if she weren't front and center in your mind.”

“So would I. But then she's always there. Did I tell you that she was probably the Herculaneum version of a musical comedy star?”

“No. Really?”

“Isn't that strange? She had such a tough life. It must have been hard for her to act the clown. I can't see her cavorting around singing and dancing.” She shrugged. “But I guess she could do anything she wanted to do. Good night, Eve.”

“Sleep well.”

She'd sleep well, Jane thought as she closed her door behind her. If she dreamed, it would be of Sontag and Aldo and the ruins of Herculaneum with Trevor spinning his web around all of them.

She should be glad that she no longer dreamed of Cira. Maybe the circle was now complete, her story told. Maybe Cira had died when those rocks had crashed down on her.

Sadness. Loneliness.

Instant rejection surged through her. No, she wouldn't have it.

She was crazy. How could she prevent something that had happened two thousand years ago? Whatever had occurred in that tunnel, she had to accept it.

She started to undress. “But it's not fair, is it, Toby?” she whispered as she slipped into bed. “She fought so hard. She deserved to live. . . .”

Dahlonega, Georgia

The photograph of the sculpture in Archaeology Journal was slightly blurred but unmistakable.

Cira.

Aldo's gaze devoured the woman's features before scanning the accompanying article. Confirmation. The magazine was being very discreet but it was clear they were confirming Sontag's find and had even been given a prized photo of the statue found in the anteroom.

He went to the Florence La Nazione site. Another news conference and Sontag talking about his remarkable discovery and obtaining a forensic sculptor to verify that the bust and skeleton were the same woman. It was the second mention in as many days.

Forensic sculptor.

Cira.

Jane MacGuire.

The circle was closing, tightening like a noose.

Very well, the worst had happened, but he could make it work for him. Maybe this was a challenge so that he could prove how superior he was to that bitch.

Last night he'd dreamed of Cira and woke in an ecstasy of sexual release. Broken bones and blood and her tears of humiliation. But he couldn't have the blood without Jane MacGuire. She was the present manifestation of that bitch. He had to have both to be complete.

He would have them. He deserved it.

But fate sometimes stumbled and needed a little help. He had to take control. Look at what happened at that glade when he'd almost had Jane MacGuire in his grasp.

He couldn't permit any slips this time.

I need to see you,” Sontag said curtly when Trevor answered his phone. “Right away. I never bargained for this.”

“You didn't bargain for anything. You were blackmailed.” Trevor sat up in bed. “What's wrong? Reporters bugging you?”

“Just get here.” He hung up the phone.

Trevor glanced at the clock on the nightstand as he started to dress. Two forty-five A.M. Sontag wasn't one who tossed and turned, worrying in the dead of night, and he'd definitely sounded spooked. Trevor had better move fast before he unraveled and blew everything.

He arrived at Sontag's house on the outskirts of Herculaneum fifteen minutes later.

“You said it was cut-and-dried,” Sontag sputtered as he threw open the door. “Just a few news conferences and then I could go to Cannes. You said he was out of it.”

“Calm down,” Trevor said. “You have only a week or so more and then you can leave Herculaneum.”

“I'm leaving tomorrow.”

“The hell you are.” He strode into the room. “You still have work to do.”

“No, I don't.” He picked up a large envelope on the coffee table and threw it to Trevor. “I'm done.” He was untying his velvet robe as he moved toward his bedroom. “I wash my hands of it. He's trying to take over. He'll expose me. I'm going to pack.”

It wasn't going to happen. He wasn't going to let Sontag off the hook. He was tempted to go after him at once and apply pressure but he decided to let him cool down for a few minutes. He opened the envelope and drew out the sheaf of papers inside.

He gave a low whistle as he saw the top page. “Christ!”

We've got him,” Trevor said when Jane answered her phone two hours later. “We've not only got him. I'd bet he's here in Herculaneum.”

She stiffened. “What?”

“Sontag phoned me in a panic and tossed an envelope at me as soon as I walked into the room. It contained a complete dossier on Eve Duncan. It was obviously pulled off the Internet, and the story about her reconstruction of the Egyptian mummy was on the top.”

“No note?”

“No, but he found it on his doorstep when someone knocked on his door in the middle of the night. It freaked him out. He thought it was Carpenter trying to muscle in on the great unveiling. He loves all the attention focused on him and wants to stay in the limelight.”

“You think it was Aldo?”

“He could have hired someone else to do it but I've got a hunch Aldo's tired of waiting and wanted to make contact. Jesus, I didn't think we'd get this lucky. I thought we'd have to have Sontag make the announcement and then sit on pins and needles until we got a response from Aldo.”

“Why would he do it?”

“He's been reading about Sontag's mulling over the forensic sculptor selection for a week and decided he wanted to take command. Arrogant son of a bitch. It's all gone his way since he started his killing spree and he can't imagine not being able to call the shots.”

“But why drop her dossier off in the middle of the night?”

“Why not? He wants to be feared and he's not been given much of that satisfaction lately. If he's going after the skeleton, perhaps he wanted Sontag to realize how vulnerable he was. He didn't realize Sontag would be more worried about his fifteen minutes of fame than his life.”

“But it could have worked the other way. Sontag could have chosen someone else because he didn't want to be dictated to.”

“True. My guess is that Aldo may not even be entirely sure that this isn't a trap, but he's willing to take the chance because he's certain he can overcome all obstacles that get in his way.”

“To get to Cira.” She added slowly, “And he still wants me, too.”

“You act surprised. That was the plan, wasn't it? He wouldn't want Eve to do the reconstruction if he didn't think it would draw you.”

“I'm not surprised.” But she was chilled and a little taken aback at the speed at which Aldo had grabbed the bait. “This has caught me off-balance. I'm just trying to think my way through it. You don't believe he might think it more logical for them to leave me behind under guard?”

“His destiny,” he reminded her. “And if they did leave you behind, he'd do something to bring you here.”

“So when do we leave for Herculaneum?”

“You've bounced back. You're beginning to sound eager as hell.”

“It's a relief to know that we're moving at last.”

“It's not a relief to me. I've been having visions of faceless corpses dancing in front of me the closer we've been getting to pushing this final button.”

“Then make sure you don't do anything stupid that will make me one.” She asked again, “When do we leave for Herculaneum?”

“I'll have Sontag make the announcement that he's hired Eve tomorrow at a news conference. We should probably give it two days before you arrive at Herculaneum. Tell Eve that there will be media at Naples airport when you get in.”

“She'll hate that.”

“She can put up with it. Everyone knows she's media shy but if I'm wrong about Aldo being here I want to make sure he knows she's arrived. And that barrage of publicity will be salt in Aldo's wounds. I'll make sure they run another picture of the bust of Cira in the local paper. I'll try to make sure Eve's exposed as little as possible after that but media exposure is key here. I'm going to meet you in Rome and fly in here with you.”

“Why?”

“I want to be seen arriving at the same time. I'm going undercover until then. If Aldo is already here, I don't want him to see me hovering over Sontag and pulling the strings.”

“Can you still control Sontag? I thought you said he was freaked.”

“He is, but he has a keen sense of self-preservation and all I had to do was convince him that I could keep him in the limelight. Tell Quinn that I've found a villa on the outskirts of Herculaneum that has some interesting features but I'll leave it to him to hire a security force for protection. He can contact the local police and get recommendations. The backgrounds of the kind of team I'd hire wouldn't meet with his approval.”

“I can imagine.”

“No, you can't. You're seventeen.”

“Will you stop harping on that?”

“No, I have to keep reminding myself. I've called Bartlett and told him to arrange to fly your Toby to California for your friend, Sarah, to puppy-sit. I know you wouldn't rest if you weren't sure he was well taken care of. Is that okay?”

“As long as he's safe.”

“He'll be safe. I'll tell Bartlett to hire a private jet for the pooch if he has to do it. I'll call you after the press conference tomorrow night.” He hung up.

She pressed the disconnect and sat there for a moment. She felt stunned . . . and scared. She hadn't expected to feel either emotion. She'd thought she'd be prepared.

She was prepared, dammit. All she had to do was shrug off this weird sense of foreboding at the thought of going to Herculaneum. Events were moving as they'd planned, better than they'd planned. She should be happy.

No, not happy, but she was beginning to feel a tingle of excitement and anticipation. She stood up from the swing and headed for the front door. “Eve, Trevor called. Pack your bags. We're going to Herculaneum.”

The two-story stucco villa on the Via Spagnola that Trevor had rented was spacious and charming. It was enclosed by an ornate wrought-iron fence and there were bright geraniums overflowing from the window boxes on the second floor.

Trevor unlocked the front door and stepped aside. “I'll stay here with Eve and Jane, Quinn. Suppose you go in and check it out. I'd do it, but I don't think you'd trust anyone but yourself.”

“Right.” Joe moved quickly past them and into the foyer. “Though it should be okay. I've had two security men watching the house since you gave me the address yesterday. Stay here.”

“I should have known,” Trevor murmured.

“Yes, you should,” Eve said as she glanced around the marble foyer. “Nice. How many bedrooms?”

“Four. Two bathrooms. Parlor, study, and library. The kitchen is pretty modern and that's a plus for houses this old.”

“How old is it?” Jane asked.

“It was built around 1850. Sontag owns it and I got him to lend it to me when I found out that it's exactly what I needed.”

“You twisted his arm?”

“I didn't have to. He'd caved by that time and was doing everything I told him to do. Until the other night when he got his midnight visitor.”

“It's okay,” Joe said as he came down the stairs. “Eve and I will take the bedroom at the end of the hall. You take the middle bedroom, Jane. Trevor can be on the other side and we'll sandwich you.”

“A sandwich,” Trevor said. “Interesting idea, Jane. But considering how prickly you are, not very appetizing.”

“Shut up,” Joe said coldly. “That's not acceptable, Trevor.”

“I know. It just slipped out.” He started down the hall. “To make amends I'll brew a pot of coffee and fix something to eat while you all get unpacked and cleaned up.”

“Sontag appears to be very cooperative,” Jane said as Eve and Joe headed for their bedroom. “He's not upset any longer?”

“He's upset. He'd like nothing better than to take off with his tail between his legs. It's all a question of control. Try to get a little rest. You had a long flight.” He disappeared through the arched door at the end of the corridor.

She didn't want to go to her room and rest. She wasn't tired. She was excited and on edge and the different sights and sounds and smells of Italy had almost overwhelmed her. She hesitated and then reluctantly headed for her bedroom.

“Want to come with me?” Trevor had come back and was standing in the doorway. He smiled. “I thought you wouldn't be able to tamely shuffle off to rest. Come on. Help me.”

She turned toward him eagerly and then caught herself. “Don't be patronizing. It doesn't take two to make a pot of coffee.”

“Patronizing, hell. I'm lonely.” He took a step toward her, his hand outstretched. He coaxed, “Come with me.”

“Come with me. Trust me.”

No, she wouldn't let her mind play tricks on her just because they were in Herculaneum. The relationship between them was nothing like the one shared by Cira and Antonio. Hell, they had no relationship, only a common goal.

But it would do no harm to go with him right now. She was feeling unsettled and, yes, a little lonely, too. She took a step forward, then another, and took his hand.

Her eyes widened. Tingling. Disturbing. Sensual. She started to pull away.

His grasp instantly closed around hers, warm, strong, safe, and suddenly that sensual disturbance vanished. “See? It didn't hurt a bit. Do you want to make the coffee or do the sandwiches?” He chuckled as he led her toward the kitchen. “Sorry. Those ‘sandwiches' keep appearing out of nowhere, don't they?”

Three guards at the rear of the house. Two at the front. It would be difficult to get to Jane MacGuire while she was inside the villa.

Aldo watched the lights go on at the house on Via Spagnola. So cozy. They were probably gathered around the dinner table, drinking wine and chatting about Cira and the reconstruction.

Did Eve Duncan and Joe Quinn know the serpent they were hugging to their bosoms? That Jane MacGuire and Cira were one? Probably not. No doubt she had worked her magic and made them believe what she wanted them to believe. She wanted to live forever and this reconstruction could ensure that at least her face would be immortal.

It wasn't going to happen. He couldn't tolerate it. And the longer he stayed here in this city, the more convinced he was that he'd been brought here for a reason. His fear and uncertainty were gradually fading. He'd be shown the way through that army of guards surrounding her.

Or she'd be led to him like a lamb to the slaughter.

It's beautiful,” Eve said, gazing out the kitchen window at the winding streets of the city. “No, that's not right. It's arresting. You can't help but remember what happened here.”

“The citizens of the town make sure you don't forget,” Joe said dryly. “It's how a good many make their living. And I can't wait to get this job done and get out of here.” He turned to Trevor. “I didn't like that circus at the airport. I'm not having Eve go through that again.”

“It's not going to be necessary,” Trevor said. “There will be at least one more press conference but after tomorrow it's best that she stay out of the limelight as much as possible.”

Joe met his gaze. “I agree.”

“When am I supposed to be starting to work on this reconstruction?” Eve asked. “It would be nice to have a little more information. I had to tap dance through all those reporters' questions this afternoon.”

“But you did it so well.” Trevor smiled. “I was impressed.”

“I don't need you to be impressed,” Eve said. “I need you to be smart, efficient, and to get us the hell done with this horror as soon as possible.” She glanced at Jane. “And not to do anything that will give Aldo his chance at her. We agreed to come here because it was a way of ending this nightmare quickly. I'm not planning on spinning my wheels now that we've arrived. Your job was to set up a place where we could trap Aldo. You say you've done it. Is this the place?”

Trevor nodded.

“What makes it so special?”

“The tunnel.”

“What?”

“There's a robbers' tunnel running beneath the villa that intersects the network of archaeological tunnels that crisscross the theater excavation. No one really knows how many robbers' tunnels were drilled over the centuries. Sontag discovered this one several years ago and decided to keep its location secret so that he could go down and do a little private excavating for fun and profit.”

“Do you honestly think Aldo will try to gain entrance to the villa through that tunnel?” Joe asked. “He'll know we're waiting for him. He may be nuts but he's canny as a fox.”

“You're right,” Trevor said. “There's no way he'd try to gain entrance to the villa. So we have to draw him down to the tunnel and then go after him. The Via Spagnola tunnels have as many off-shoots and twists and turns as Precebio's tunnel.”

“You said that Aldo knew the tunnels like the back of his hand when he was a boy,” Jane said.

Trevor nodded. “The one advantage we have is that Sontag is the only one who ever mapped this particular network of tunnels. Aldo wouldn't be familiar with them.”

“We hope,” Joe said. “And if the tunnel is that complicated we may be as lost down there as he is.”

“I've got Sontag's maps and I've been checking out the tunnel every night since I found out about the villa. Besides, with any luck we won't have to know much about the tunnel. We'll set up the trap and let Aldo come to us.”

“And I suppose you've already done that,” Eve said dryly.

“Pending your approval.” He took a notebook from his back pocket and flipped it open. “There's only one place that's really possible for an ambush.” He put the notebook on the table. “I know it looks like hen scratching but this is the tunnel that leads to the archaeological tunnels. You take the branch that leads off it here.” He drew a line intersecting. “This branch leads to the vomitorium but about halfway you run into an offshoot passage that twists around and then comes back from a different angle. There's a ledge about thirty feet up that will give you a clear shot, Quinn.”

“Cover?”

Trevor nodded. “You won't have a problem. The face of the wall looks like a solid sheet with only a small opening off the ledge.”

“Vomitorium,” Eve repeated. “Is that what it sounds like?”

“Yes and no,” Trevor said. “The exits from public places were generally called that. For years the guards told gullible tourists that the Romans gorged themselves and then made themselves throw up to eat more.”

“Charming. And this vomitorium was an exit from the theater?”

“It could have been. The Via Spagnola tunnel winds around so much that this could have been an exit for another public building or residence. At any rate, it's damn convenient for us.” He glanced at Joe. “And there are three tunnels leading off that vomitorium. Aldo will probably be hiding in one of them if we can set him up.”

“And the vomitorium is the target area?” Joe asked. “Exactly where is it?”

“A short distance farther along the tunnel. After you pass the offshoot passage that you'll be taking, you come to a wider area that was evidently the treasure trove the thieves were after when they dug the tunnel. The vomitorium evidently contained several large statues that were stolen. Only the bases are left.”

“How's the light?”

“Better have an infrared scope. I'll have four torches scattered on the walls around the area. That's all I can promise you. It's just as important that he doesn't see you as it is that you see him.”

“And what's going to bring him to the room?”

“Jane.” His glance shifted to her. “And Cira.”

Joe shook his head. “Are you going to send him an engraved invitation for the event?”

“I hope we don't have to. If he calls Jane as he did before she left Georgia, she can set him up. There's a good chance that will happen.”

“And if it doesn't?”

“We have a backup.” He continued, “We're announcing that the coffin containing the remains is being transported day after tomorrow from the tunnel where she was discovered to the lab here at the villa for forensic examination and reconstruction. I've chosen two well-known forensic experts who have the reputation of not being assholes like Sontag and I'll hand out their names to the media to verify.”

“How?”

“That's up to you, Quinn. I don't care if you persuade or threaten them. Just get them to lie through their teeth and go underground for the few days they're supposed to be at the villa.”

“We're just going to let Aldo follow us to the villa?”

“Right, he's going to follow us through the theater tunnel to the robbers' tunnel leading to the villa.”

“What?”

“It's the kind of flamboyant showmanship Sontag would pull. Dramatically revealing the place where the skeleton was found to the media and then leading them through the darkness to the place where Cira's identity was going to be discovered. Or rather to the point where we have the local police barricade the tunnel to keep the media from going any farther and knowing where we exit.”

“Aldo would be insane to be in the middle of that mob of reporters.”

“He won't be in the middle. But he'll be there somewhere in that network of tunnels keeping an eye on what's going on,” Trevor said. “And he'll go back and explore later. We won't make it too hard for him to find the Via Spagnola tunnel.” He added to Joe, “Have you made sure the tunnel where the skeleton was found was put off-limits by the local police and guarded twenty-four hours a day?”

“Of course, it made sense. I just suggested it would be wise to protect the area from thieves who might contaminate the excavation site. They were eager to please. There's a good deal of American money being poured into that hole in the ground. So what's going to draw him to the vomitorium if the reconstruction is going to be done at the villa?”

Trevor smiled. “Because we're going to let Aldo believe that Sontag is going to have a news conference down there for the great unveiling of the reconstruction.”

“My God,” Jane whispered.

“Again, it's the kind of flamboyant thing Sontag would pull. Leading the reporters through the darkness to a mystery destination, the vomitorium.”

“And we draw Aldo down there instead. He'd want to destroy the reconstruction before the media got to it,” Jane said slowly. “How do we do it?”

“You challenge him, taunt him, make him think you're taking him on one on one. He's a supreme egotist besides being nuts. You find a way to exploit his weakness.”

She frowned. “It could work.”

“It better.” Trevor turned to Eve. “Everything okay?”

She thought about it. “No. How is Aldo going to know about the vomitorium?”

“Once he discovers the Via Spagnola tunnel, he'll reconnoiter and the vomitorium is fairly easy to find for someone used to negotiating tunnels. Once he finds it, he's not going to go any farther.”

“Why not?”

“He'll know it's the place. I've set it up. I've got lamps, batteries, and photo equipment all over the place down there. He won't be able to miss what's going to happen.”

“How can you be so sure he'll even find it? It's a hell of a lot to assume.”

“You're right. That's why I set up a video camera on the ledge where Joe's going to be waiting. It's pointed directly down at the vomitorium. If Aldo's exploring down there, we'll know it. Trust me.”

“I don't trust anyone where Jane's safety's concerned. And I hate the idea of using her as bait.”

“Eve, you knew that this was the only way we could do it,” Jane said quietly. “And Joe is going to be there to protect me.”

“And I'll be there, too,” Trevor said. “I'm taking her down to the vomitorium that night. You go down ahead of us, Quinn. I'll scout out the tunnel before we take her down and be with her as far as the offshoot passage before I join you at the ledge. I'll guarantee she'll be safe until she gets to the vomitorium. After that it's up to all of us to make sure she stays safe.”

“Why can't we bring more security down there?”

“The minute he'd see them, he'd flit. As long as we don't let him get near Jane, she'll be safe. He never uses a gun. He wants ritual. It's important to him. We don't give a damn about ritual; a rifle bullet will suit us just fine.”

“This had better work, Trevor,” Eve said grimly.

“Lord, what's a man got to do? I'm open to suggestions.”

“You'll get them if we see any signs that this damn plan is disintegrating.” She turned and headed toward the doorway leading to the hall. “And in the meantime I'm going to bed. I'm beat. Joe?”

“I'll be there in a minute.” Joe finished his coffee. “I'm going to check with the security boys and see if they've noticed anything.”

“It's too early,” Trevor said. “Aldo's not going to make a move yet.”

“It must be wonderful to be able to see into a crystal ball,” Joe said sarcastically as he opened the kitchen door. “Personally, I've always found that it's better to expect the unexpected.”

“So have I,” Trevor murmured as the door closed behind Joe. “Usually. But Aldo is different. . . . I feel like I know what he's thinking—it's different.” He picked up the cups and plates and took them to the sink. “And maybe I'm wrong and Quinn is right on target. Having two varying viewpoints only makes it safer for you.” He turned to face her. “You were very quiet while I was sketching in my ‘master plan.' Don't you think it will work?”

“I've no idea. It's difficult to imagine. . . .” She moistened her lips. “You said that the tunnel was directly below this house?”

“Yes.” His gaze narrowed on her face. “Does that make you nervous?”

She shook her head. “Not nervous.” Her glance shifted to the window. “It's getting dark. It will be even darker in the tunnel, won't it?”

“Yes. What are you thinking?”

She looked back at him. “I want you to take me through the tunnel. I want to see this vomitorium and I want to see for myself where Sontag barricaded the tunnel anteroom where Cira is supposed to be.”

“We couldn't get close. Quinn has the tunnel guarded. Besides, you'll see it tomorrow night.”

She shook her head impatiently. “Not with a gaggle of reporters on our heels. Tonight.”

“Because you want to make sure I'm not off base?”

“I want to see those tunnels. I don't care how close or far away I have to be. You said you didn't think that Aldo was in striking distance.”

“I also said I could be wrong.”

“But he doesn't know about the Via Spagnola tunnel. We'd be safe there. What about the tunnels close to the theater?”

“If he didn't have a reason, he probably wouldn't be down there. It's pretty nasty and those tunnels are lit by electric light and guarded by the locals.”

“Would they bother us if we ran across them?”

“I believe I could talk our way out of it.”

“Another con?”

“Isn't that what life's all about?” He studied her. “Why is it so important to you?”

She didn't answer.

“You said you'd been dreaming of tunnels. You think you'll recognize them?”

“Of course not. That would be weird.”

He was silent a moment. “Quinn will probably kill me.”

He was going to do it! “When?”

“In an hour. I have to call Sontag and prime him for tomorrow's news conference.” He paused. “Are you going to tell Eve?”

She thought about it. “No, they'd feel they had to come with us and I don't want to drag them through those tunnels. You said they were pretty unpleasant.”

“Slimy.” He added, “But they'd still want to go.”

“I'll leave a note for Eve in case she wakes up when we're gone. I don't want her worried.”

“But you don't want them to go. Why?”

“They'd watch me,” she said baldly. “They'd analyze why and what I was doing and wonder if they should have let me go. People who love you do that. But you don't care. If you watch me, it'll be because you're curious. I'll be safe if you go with me because you don't want to lose Aldo, but you're not going to be biting your nails and fretting.”

“No, I'm not inclined to fret.” He smiled crookedly. “And, yes, I'm curious about everything about you.” He turned away. “I'll see you in an hour. Bring a sweater.”

“Wait.” When he looked back at her, she asked, “How do you get to this tunnel? Where's the entrance?”

“You're sitting on it.” He nodded at the rug covering the stone floor beneath her chair. “It's a seven-foot trapdoor that evidently accommodated Sontag's thievery of the larger items he found. And there's a steel ladder leading fifty feet down. Don't get eager and leave me behind. Okay?”

There was no danger of that. The knowledge that she was sitting over that dark emptiness was disturbing. She wanted to get up and move but forced herself not to do it. She kept her tone casual. “I'll wait for you.”