Private Rome

Chapter 89

Justine and I left the hospital and crossed the Ponte Fabricio, a cobbled, pedestrianized bridge north of the hospital. There was no one else around and for a moment I wanted to forget the danger we faced, the secrets we’d uncovered, and instead pretend we were regular people with normal lives. That we were out for a star-lit stroll in this ancient and romantic setting, and that all the wonder of Rome had been created just for us.

I stopped and pulled Justine toward me. She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me until I became aware of movement to my right. Two men, hospital security guards on patrol, were heading our way.

“No rest for the wicked,” Justine remarked as we resumed our journey.

“Or the virtuous,” I replied with a smile.

We caught a taxi on Lungotevere de’ Cenci, the broad, leafy avenue that tracked the sinuous line of the Tiber. The driver barely gave us a second glance as we got in the back, but when we said we wanted to go to Ostia, he grumbled and told us he wouldn’t get a good fare on the return journey. I offered him double. That didn’t quite make him smile, but it did silence his complaints.

Justine and I stayed silent, partly because I didn’t want the man overhearing details of our investigation, but largely because I was still reeling from Matteo’s revelation. Faith had prevented him from telling the truth. It had made him irrational. Did he really believe that by ensuring his friend and mentor received a Christian burial, he could sneak Brambilla into heaven? Surely it was the contents of a person’s heart, not their actions, that defined their relationship with God. Or maybe that was just a comforting fiction I told myself.

“You okay?” Justine asked. “You seem distracted.”

The cab was racing through deserted streets, chewing up the distance as we shot past stores and restaurants that were silent and shuttered.

“I’m fine,” I replied. “Just thinking about Matteo and wondering whether I’ve made a big mistake. I hired him because he seemed honest, but he made a huge error of judgment and concealed the truth.”

Justine took my hand and squeezed it gently.

“He was trying to do the right thing by his friend. It might have been misguided, but his heart was in the right place.”

I nodded. Truth and justice were my guides, and sometimes I struggled to understand how other people prioritized different values.

“Do you think Brambilla took his own life?” she asked.

“He was agitated,” I replied. “He badly wanted to share a secret. I don’t believe he would have killed himself before doing so.”

“Which leaves Matteo or someone else,” Justine suggested. “And if it was someone else, it was someone at the party.”

I nodded again. “Someone who got in and out of the room without being seen and was able to overpower Matteo and silence Brambilla. Sounds like a ghost, doesn’t it?”

Justine frowned. “No, someone far more dangerous. You said you saw Luna Colombo that night, running away from the scene.”

She let the suggestion hang. We both looked at the driver, who was nodding along to low music coming from the radio.

“No,” I said, my brow furrowing. “I mean, I did, but she... she couldn’t.”

But I knew she could, and as the one person with connections to all the key players, she had to be considered a suspect.

The cab driver dropped us off near the warehouse and left with his double fare plus a generous tip. Justine and I held hands as we walked down the empty lane. When we reached our destination, she pulled me close and kissed me. I held her in my arms, squeezing her, eying her longingly.

“I’ve missed you,” I said.

“Me too,” she replied, before kissing me again.

The roll shutter rose suddenly, startling us both. We stepped back from each other. I turned to see Mo-bot in the doorway.

“If you kids are going to leave for a secret assignation, you need to let a grown-up know,” she said. “I’ve been worried about you.”

“We went to see Matteo,” I revealed. “He says he was knocked unconscious before the shooting.”

Mo-bot looked surprised.

“He didn’t say anything because he was worried Brambilla might have taken his own life, which would deny him a Catholic burial and a proper place in the hereafter,” Justine said.

“That puts everyone at the party firmly in the frame,” said Mo-bot. “I mean, we’d been working on that assumption, but he just confirmed it either had to be Brambilla or one of the other guests.”

I nodded. “Justine suggested Luna Colombo.”

Mo-bot shrugged. “I can see why.”

“We need to take another look at things,” I said. “Figure out a plan of action. We’ll regroup in the morning.” I moved to pass her. “Right now, I’m beat.”

She stood aside. Weary from the day’s events, I made my way through the warehouse and up to the apartment with Justine and Mo-bot following.

I longed to be alone with Justine, but the stolen moments we’d just shared were as good as it was going to get for now.

I leant close and kissed her.

“Night,” I said, and she replied in kind. Feeling professionally and personally frustrated, I retreated to the bedroom I shared with Sci. I didn’t manage to fall asleep until the first fingers of dawn reached into the room.