Day Of Confession

99

Harry watched breathlessly as the two armed carabinieri waved the white Fiat on toward Bellagio, then looked to the next car in line, motioning it forward and then stopping it in the bright glare of the checkpoint's work lights. Across, two more carabinieri worked the vehicles leaving the city. Four more stood in the shadow of an armored car at the roadside, watching.

Harry had seen the lights and knew what it was even before the traffic in front of him began to slow. He knew they'd been more than lucky the first time, when it had been just he and Elena going through the other way. Now, there were three of them, and he held his breath, expecting the worst.

'Mr Addison-' Elena was looking directly ahead.

Harry saw the car in front of them move off and realized they were at the checkpoint. Abruptly, an armed carabiniere waved them forward. Harry felt his heart pound, and suddenly there was sweat under his palms as his hands gripped the wheel. Again the carabiniere waved them forward.

Breathing deeply, Harry eased the clutch out. The truck moved ahead, then the policeman motioned him to stop. He did. Then two carabinieri came toward them in the purple-white of the checkpoint lights, one from either Bide. Both carried heavy flashlights.

'Christ!' Harry's breath went out of him with a rush.

'What is it?' Elena asked quickly.

'The same guy.'

The carabiniere saw Harry, too. How could he forget? The old truck with the priest who had nearly run him over earlier that same morning.

'Buona sera,' the carabiniere said carefully.

'Buona sera,' Harry acknowledged.

The carabiniere lifted his flashlight and played it over the inside of the truck. Danny was still sleeping, still wearing Harry's black priest's jacket, slumped against Elena.

The other carabiniere was at Elena's window. Motioned her to roll it down.

Ignoring him, Elena looked to the carabiniere beside Harry.

'We went to a funeral. You remember?' she said in Italian.

'Yes.'

'Now we are coming back. Father Dolgetta,' she gestured at Danny, then lowered her voice as if trying not to wake him, 'came from Milan to say the mass. You see how thin he is. He's been ill. He should never have come, but he insisted. And then what? A relapse. Look at him. We are trying to get him back and into bed before something worse happens.'

For a long moment the carabiniere stared, his light playing over Harry again and then Danny.

'What would you like us to do? Get out and walk around? Wake him up? Make him walk, too?' Elena's eyes flashed angrily. 'How long does it take for you to let people you already know pass?'

Behind them came a honking of horns. People impatient, waiting in line. Traffic backing up. Finally, the carabiniere snapped off his flashlight, nodded to his partner, then stepped back and waved them through.