Private Rome

Chapter 59

I burst out of the main doors and immediately collided with two officers coming through the arch. I reacted instinctively, pushing one into the wall opposite. I knocked him out by slamming his head against the stone. The other tried to grab me but I ducked and slipped free from his grasp, delivering a jab and right cross that knocked him flat on his behind.

I heard shouts behind me and the sound of heavy footsteps. I ran on, leaving the injured officers in my wake. Outside I dodged a passing car as I sprinted across the street, hearing shouts behind me as more police officers joined the chase.

I glanced over my shoulder. A group of four, led by Mia Esposito, were racing after me. I ran past the dilapidated buildings opposite police headquarters before turning left and sprinting south along Via Genova. There was more traffic here but the sidewalk was quiet. I made good progress to the next intersection. I burst onto Via Nazionale beside a Guess store and found myself surrounded by pedestrians strolling in the afternoon sun. I had to dodge and weave around them as I turned left and headed east along the busy street.

My pursuers were forced to do the same, but there were more of them and they caused consternation and chaos as they chased me.

I ran across the street, picking my way through a line of traffic heading west, and sprinted along the sidewalk before turning right down Via Venezia.

There was a mother and baby store on the corner of this narrow cobbled street lined with apartment buildings. Just beyond the store was a stone feature, set into the front of the neighboring block, a façade that decorated the first floor. The stones were about a foot tall and stacked like an asymmetric ladder. I realized it would be an easy climb to an open window visible on the second floor and sprinted to the foot of the column.

I grabbed the first stone, which had been hewn from some kind of volcanic rock. It was rough and solid, great for climbing, and whoever had designed the building had left a gap between the first stone column and the rising arch that curved over the adjacent window, so I was able to apply lateral pressure with my left foot, to make me more secure and accelerate my climb. I made it to the windowsill on the second floor as the cops ran into the mouth of the street. They yelled as I thrust myself in at the open window.

I didn’t know why they wanted me, but I wasn’t going to make the mistake of finding out. I fell into a small kitchen where an old lady was warming milk on a stove. She cried out and said something very fast, but I didn’t stop and ran through her apartment to the front door. I opened it and raced into the corridor beyond. My lungs were burning, my arms aching from the climb and my legs were sore, but I kept going.

The corridor beyond was laid with cheap gray carpet and the walls covered by peeling floral paper. I ran past a dozen apartments before I reached the stairwell at the end. When I burst through the door, I heard commotion below me and looked over the guardrail to see Mia Esposito leading her squad of officers in pursuit of me.

“Mr. Morgan! Stay where you are!”

No chance, I thought, as I bounded up the stairs to the next floor.

I ran through the stairwell door into a corridor much like the one below. I sprinted along the old carpet, past a dozen apartments to the door at the end. I burst through to find a twin corridor, the common area of the second wing of this apartment block.

I rushed for an elevator lobby, aware of pounding footsteps and shouts behind me, and turned left through a door marked Scala next to an image of stairs. I ran into a stairwell and started down, jumping three or four at a time. I raced down two flights to the ground floor, and when I burst through into the lobby, saw two uniformed officers coming toward me, batons in hand.

Without breaking stride, I grabbed an ancient dust-covered bronze pillar ashtray and swung it at one of the officers, who didn’t react in time and took the full force of the blow. It knocked him down.

The second cop tried to parry the blow with his baton, but the pillar caught him with enough force to drive the weapon into his face, knocking him out.

I dropped the ashtray and flew through the lobby, reaching the street as Esposito led her team of cops through the stairwell door.

“Stop!” she yelled, surveying the men I’d incapacitated. “You’re only making it worse for yourself.”

I doubted that somehow. My colleague had ended up in hospital after being taken into police custody, and there was no way I was giving whoever was behind this the chance to reach me in the same manner.

I ran into the street and tried to flag down a car, but it didn’t stop. I sprinted south to the corner of Via Palermo where I saw a motorcyclist getting on his dirt bike. I raced toward him.

The surprised man caught sight of me too late. I yanked him off his vehicle, jumped on, started the ignition, and when the engine roared to life, kicked into first gear and shot away, narrowly avoiding the grasping hands of Esposito and her colleagues.

Her cries for me to stop rang in my ears until they were lost against the sound of the speeding bike and the clamor of the city.