Private Rome

Chapter 9

I moved through the open-plan room as the door clicked shut. The woman with the shaved head stepped out from behind the counter and blocked my path.

“Scusi, Signore,” she said.

“I need to talk to that lady,” I responded, trying to pass.

“This is not a place for talking, sir,” she said. “Alonzo!”

The guy at the door lumbered toward me, his face twisting into a scowl.

“Help the Signore out. He has come to the wrong place,” the woman said.

The mass of flesh that was Alonzo grabbed my shoulder, but I ducked and slipped clear of his grasp. I sidestepped the woman blocking my path and ran toward the closed door. Alonzo came after me, but I moved aside suddenly, caught his arm and used his momentum to accelerate him at it. He crashed into it, cracking the lock from the frame, falling into the room as the door swung open. He stumbled to his knees and the women behind me gasped and cried out as I rushed forward and punched Alonzo in the face, knocking him down.

He fell back, groaning, clutching his face, and I punched him again, knocking him out cold. The woman with the shaved head cursed, and when I glanced over my shoulder, I saw her moving toward the counter.

I looked around the grubby side room. A couch heaped with pillows and blankets, a television and some used dishes. It looked as though Luna had slept here, but what would a cop be doing in a place like this?

There was no sign of her, but the window on the other side of the room was open, the curtain flapping in the breeze.

I heard more cursing and glanced behind me to see the shaven-headed woman aiming a Taser directly at me. I stepped clear just in time and the wired barbs shot into the air beside me. Alonzo was stirring. He fumbled for my feet, but I didn’t give either of my assailants a second chance. I ran across the room, yanked the curtain back and saw a fire escape on the other side of the window. I caught a flash of movement below and realized it was Luna, about two flights down, racing for the bottom.

I tried to jump through the window, but felt a hand grab my arm. I whirled round and saw a dazed Alonzo back on his feet, trying to hold me back. I kicked him in the shin, and as he buckled, swung a right cross that knocked him out again. He tumbled to the floor and I leapt through the window and raced down the metal steps.

The fire escape zigzagged down the rear of the building, connecting all the apartments on this side.

I raced down, taking the steps two or three at a time, and quickly closed the gap between me and Luna to a single story. She reached the ground and sprinted around the corner. I followed moments later, my legs aching, my lungs burning, heart thundering.

I heard an engine start and rounded the corner to see Luna behind the wheel of an old BMW 3-Series, parked in the small lot beside the building. The car shot forward and the tires screeched as Luna swung a hard turn to navigate her way along the snaking route that would take her out of the lot. Old rusty cars filled most of the spaces so her options for shortcuts were limited. I knew if she reached the road I would have no chance of catching her. I raced forward, aiming for the exit point. I stooped to grab a loose chunk of paving block from the edge of the cracked path. As Luna turned in my direction and sped toward the road, I hurled the missile at the car.

It hit the windshield, smashing the glass, turning it crushed-ice white. Luna swerved instinctively and crashed into a couple of parked cars.

As I ran over, I saw her roll onto the back seat and escape through one of the rear doors. She was unsteady on her feet and managed only a couple of faltering steps before I caught up. I grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back.

She spun round and tried to punch me in the mouth, but I blocked the blow and pushed her against the BMW.

“It’s over,” I told her. “Enough.”