Spider

42

San Quirico D'Orcia, Tuscany The warm house lights and the dinner-table laughter from La Casa Strada spilled across the dark and silent hills of the Val D'Orcia as Nancy King carried out her final duties of the day. The restaurant had been full for the evening but now there were only a few guests still at their white-linen tables, drinking coffee and sipping brandy. For Nancy, this was one of the magical moments of running the restaurant. She loved to see a room full of happy guests, relaxing at her beautifully laid tables, bursting from the satisfaction of her food. The room hummed with conversations about which part of Europe someone planned to go to next, and whether or not Florence was really worth a day visit out of their schedule.

Paolo had let the rest of the kitchen staff go home and only Giuseppe remained, stacking pudding plates in the giant dishwasher that Jack joked was large enough to wash an average car. Paolo told him that when he had washed down the floors, he could go as well.

'Mrs King, would you care to join me for a glass of wine outside on the terrace, for our little talk?' asked Paolo, with over-dramatic graciousness. He said the same words every night and Nancy always replied with the same pat answer and a theatrical nod of her head. 'That would be most delightful, Signore Balze, thank you for asking me.'

'Take a table, please, I'll be out in a moment,' said Paolo.

Nancy left him and walked through the kitchen door into the private garden outside. The night was alive with the pungent smell of roses and the incessant chirp of crickets. She'd heard somewhere that the insects could be roasted, or even baked into brownies, but she'd never managed to catch one, let alone pondered what to do with it gastronomically.

Suddenly, the door to the kitchen burst open. 'Surprise!' shouted Paolo, standing shoulder to shoulder with Giuseppe, who was holding a small cake with a plastic Statue of Liberty stuck in its middle and a lit birthday candle taped to Liberty's torch.

'Born in the USA,' they sang together, badly.

'Happy American Independence Day, Mrs King,' said Giuseppe. 'Please to blow out the candle and make the wish.'

'We didn't know the words to your national anthem,' explained Paolo, 'but we do know some Bruce Springsteen, yes, Giuseppe?'

Nancy applauded them both and blew out the candle. 'Thank you. Thank you so much,' she said, feeling genuinely touched by what they'd done.

'Get a knife,' Paolo instructed the kitchen boy. 'We will have a small piece with our drink, and you too, Giuseppe.'

'Wait a minute,' said Nancy. 'Before you cut it, let me get my camera from upstairs. I have to take a picture to show Jack what you made.'

'Actually, it is what Gio made,' corrected Paolo, referring to their pastry chef, as she hurried back to the house for her Sony Cybershot. 'He is sorry he could not stay, but his baby, it is sick back home.'

Nancy was still smiling as she bounded up the stairs. She slowed down to a quiet stride as she stepped past Zack's door, and then flicked on a light and entered her own bedroom.

What she saw next sucked the breath from her lungs.

Standing by her dressing table, a flashlight in one hand, and something heavy, square and black in the other, was a large masked man.