Spider

10

San Quirico D'Orcia, Tuscany Nancy King was relaxing on the shaded terrace with her first cappuccino of the morning. On her lap was Paolo's new summer menu. She was pleased to see most of her old favourites were still there, including a choice of classic La Pasta Fatta in Casa, with an amazingly simple tomato sauce to go with the fantastic home-made linguini or tagliatelli. How did the Italians squeeze so much flavour out of so few ingredients? She put the menu down, took a sip of her coffee and squinted out across the sun-hazed valleys. The Tuscan countryside undulated like a series of green waves crashing towards some out-of-sight shoreline. The powder-blue sky was cloudless. Nancy felt more relaxed and alive than she'd done for years. Tuscany had certainly been the right place to choose to start over again.

Jovanna, one of the two waitresses setting clean white linen on the tables for lunch, clacked her shoes across the paved patio and wooden outer decking, breaking Nancy's moment of meditation.

'Scusi, Signora,' she said respectfully. 'There is someone in reception for you. It is a police officer.'

Nancy held her breath. She pushed her bare feet into her backless shoes, and strode quickly from the sun-toasted terrace to the cool of the hotel reception. In those brief seconds every imaginable disaster flashed through her mind. Had Jack collapsed again? Had Zack been hurt? What had brought an Italian police officer, unannounced, to her doorstep?

Nancy had expected to see a policeman, a black-haired carabiniere with a five o'clock shadow and trademark white gloves. Instead, a beautiful young woman in an immaculately tailored charcoal-grey business suit stood waiting in the marbled floor reception area.

'Buon giorno. Signora King?'

'Si.' Nancy hesitated, her heart skipping a beat.

'Buono. Sono Ispettore Orsetta Portinari. Ho bisogno…'

'In English, tell me in English!' snapped Nancy, unable to hold back her fears.

'I'm sorry,' said the policewoman. She took a beat, and then effortlessly switched languages. 'I am Inspector Orsetta Portinari and I have been sent by my boss Massimo Albonetti in Rome. My boss and Mr King worked together some time ago and now Direttore Albonetti has sent me here to see if Mr King would help us.'

Nancy's fears came down a notch. 'You mean there's nothing wrong? Nothing's happened to Jack, or to my son?'

The young inspector looked confused. 'I am sorry. I am afraid I do not understand. Your son?'

Nancy brushed hair from her face. 'You haven't come here to tell me something bad about my husband, or my son Zack? They're both all right?'

Orsetta shook her head and smiled reassuringly. 'No. They are both all right.'

Nancy leant on the black granite counter of the reception desk and sighed with relief. She managed to compose herself before turning back to the detective. 'Strange how you always think the worst when you see a police officer – even if you've been married to one.'

'si,' said Orsetta.

'Jack's not here at the moment, he'll be gone all day. What exactly is this about?'

Orsetta's face gave away the fact that she wasn't going to offer Nancy a straight answer. 'With respect, Mrs King, it is police business and I would rather discuss it directly with your husband.'

Ten years of marriage to a cop had taught Nancy to know when she was being fobbed off. Similarly, she knew that cops ducked questions only when the case was important. Her mind flashed back to Maria's newspaper. 'Is it about that murdered girl?'

The detective frowned. 'I really need to speak directly to your husband. Perhaps you have a cell phone number for him?'

Nancy's eyes blazed. It seemed Italian cops were every bit as pushy and rude as American ones. 'I'd rather not do that. Police business is not our business any longer. Now, would you like to leave a message or not?'

Orsetta's face flushed. 'This is my card,' she said, slapping it down on the cold counter. 'It is an urgent police matter. Have him call me as soon as you see him.' She glared at Nancy. 'This is not a request, Signora, it is an instruction.'

For a second the two women locked eyes. Orsetta smiled as sweetly as she could, then elegantly turned on her immaculate heels and left.