Spider

27

Siena, Tuscany Jack's heart sank as his train arrived in Siena. The station was swarming with tourists and he suddenly remembered why: it was Palio day.

Jack and Nancy had never been to the famous Palio alla Tonda horse race through the streets of the city, but they'd heard all about it. Paolo had urged them to go, but Carlo, their quiet and far more conservative hotel manager, had begged them not to. The differing opinions pretty much coincided with how most of Italy viewed the controversial and highly dangerous spectacle. Some people loved the sense of tradition. It dated back to the mid seventeenth century and had historic echoes of the traditional Roman games of archery, fighting and racing. Others simply hated the fact that the horses often got badly injured and sometimes even had to be destroyed. Carlo had told them that years earlier one of the ten competing horses, each representing a local ward, fell and was trampled to death while the race was allowed to carry on. After that, he vowed he would never let his family watch the Palio again.

Outside the station, Jack could already hear the clop of horses' hooves as several members of the carabinieri trotted past. He guessed they were heading off for a rehearsal of the dramatic sword-wielding charge that they would stage in the pageant at the Piazza del Campo. Jack could also spot bookmakers on the pavements, pocketing fistfuls of euros as the betting built up for the big event.

With traffic virtually banned from the entire city, getting a taxi was even more difficult and pricey than usual. Finally, Jack collapsed into the back of an old Renault Megane that seemed to be missing certain luxuries, such as rear suspension or a window that would roll down. Somewhere on the outskirts of Siena he fell asleep and was pleasantly surprised to wake as the taxi pulled up noisily on the gravel outside La Casa Strada in San Quirico.

As they rounded the side of the hotel, his heart lifted when little Zack clambered off his pedal trike and dashed towards him with open arms, shouting, 'Daddy, Daddy!'

'Hello, tiger, come here and give your old man a kiss,' said Jack, sweeping the toddler up into his arms and kissing his beautifully smooth face. 'You been good for Mommy?' he asked, walking towards Nancy, who was sitting on the patio with paperwork spread out over a metal garden table.

'Hi there, stranger,' she called from her chair, holding down some papers as a surprise gust of wind threatened to blow them away.

'Hi, hon,' said Jack, bending down to kiss her, Zack still tucked under his right arm, as though he were a football.

'Down, Daddy, down!' urged the youngster.

'How was the train?' asked Nancy, slipping off her sunglasses to take a closer look at him.

Jack swung his son down and felt a warm glow as he watched the youngster dash back to his trike. He sat on the chair opposite his wife, tucking the plastic bags containing her presents surreptitiously beneath his seat. 'Palio day in Siena. It was so crazy there; I had to walk miles to get a cab.' He pinched an olive from a round, white dish on the table. 'I know what Carlo said, but I think I'd like to go see it some day.'

'Maybe,' said Nancy cautiously. Her mind was on other things. 'What about the case? You done with it? Everything finished? Or is that too much to hope for?'

Jack let out a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. 'Sheeesh, Nancy, am I that easy to read?'

She nodded.

'They've got something they really want me to look at.'

Nancy frowned. 'That girl, Olivetta, or whatever her name is?'

'Orsetta,' he said, noting her sensitivity. 'No, not her, Massimo.'

Nancy's eyes lit up a little. 'You spoke to Mass? He say how Benny and the kids are?'

'No, we didn't have time to talk about that,' said Jack, remembering how well Nancy and Mass's wife Benedetta had got on when they'd met in Rome. Benny had shown her all the tourist sites, while he and Mass worked long hours together. 'I'm going to call him back in a minute, when I've freshened up and maybe grabbed a coffee.'

'I'll get the kitchen to send one up for you. You want anything to eat?'

'Yeah, could they do a panini of some kind?' he said, gathering the bags and getting ready to walk away.

'They're chefs, honey; they could do you a six-course lunch if you want.'

'Mozzarella and some salad would be just fine.' Jack pushed his chair back under the table and was about to leave when he caught the expression on his wife's face. 'You look like you're fit to burst, Nancy. You want to tell me what's eating you?'

Nancy took a deep breath. She'd have preferred to have this conversation later, in the cool of the evening when she could control their moods and there was nothing else to distract them. 'I don't want you to do this. I know it's probably connected to the murder of that young woman that's been in the news, and you feel that you should get involved, but you shouldn't, it's not going to be good for you.'

'Say all that again,' said Jack, a little crisper than he intended.

'It's all starting up again, isn't it?' said Nancy, knowing the day was about to be ruined.

Jack twisted his shoulders away from her, as he always did when he tried to show her he was exasperated and she'd got everything out of proportion. 'Honey, I'm going to look at some papers and photographs, see some maps and reports, and give some advice, that's all.'

She looked at him distrustfully and rolled her tongue over the front of her teeth, one of the traits Jack always recognized as a sign that she was holding out on him. 'What else?' he said in the tone he usually reserved for suspects in an interview room.

'Howie called from New York.' She studied his face for a reaction, before adding with a sigh of resignation, 'Something's happened over there. He wouldn't tell me much but he mentioned BRK, said they were reopening the case.'

'He say why?' asked Jack, his pulse quickening.

'Like I said, he wouldn't tell me much. Just that the press were going to be all over it again, probably all over you too.' She took hold of his hand. 'Honey, we don't need this.' Her voice hardened. 'Actually, this is the very stuff that we came all the way here to get away from.' She looked to her left and then to her right, taking in the peace of the garden and the beauty of the view across the hills. 'Please don't put it all at risk, Jack, don't get drawn in again.'

Jack leant across the table, trying to make a connection. His face was uncompromising, but to the trained eye of his wife it betrayed vulnerability as well. 'Nancy, this man might be killing again. He may already have taken at least one young woman's life, right here in Italy, maybe the girl you referred to, and from the sound of what you've just said, he could well be active again back home.' Jack reached across and took hold of her other hand as well. 'I can't keep running away. The impotency of doing nothing is driving me crazy. I have to try to stop him.'

'Even if it hurts you?' said Nancy, feeling that this was a conversation she'd had over and over again. 'Even if it hurts us?'

Jack said nothing but Nancy could read the answer on his face. She pulled her hands free of his. 'I've got to see Paolo in the kitchen. I'll have him send some food over to you.'

Jack stood motionless as she pushed her chair away from the table so hard that it clattered on to the patio. He bent over and picked it up, then watched her walk quickly towards the restaurant. He knew from the shape of her back that her arms were up at her face and she was crying. And he knew that there was nothing in the world he could do to stop it.