The Rome Prophecy

94

Santa Cecilia stands on the west side of the river, almost equidistant between the Ponte Palatino and the Ponte Portese.

Valentina sees it for what it is.

Architectural mesmerism.

It’s one of those buildings that draws the eye to everything that’s not really important.

For a start, there’s the distraction of a walled and gated courtyard so well designed that even in the depths of winter you can imagine the riot of colour set to explode in spring. Then there’s a vast fountain, dominated by a giant ancient cantharus – a water vessel second to none.

But none of what’s on show is what’s really important about Santa Cecilia.

As Alfie told them, the fascinating stuff is inside, below ground, and in all the stories and legends that hover around the place.

Valentina weighs it up from the car, almost a hundred metres away. ‘It’s useless. Those damned archways, gates and pillars at the entrance to the courtyard block out so much of the church. Without a full surveillance team, I feel like a Japanese tourist trying to cover a moon landing with a point and shoot.’

Federico Assante is sitting low in the back. ‘Did you see Tom go inside?’

‘About a minute ago.’ She wonders if she’s doing the right thing. If she’d called Caesario, he’d have had to take her seriously and put a proper team out here. On the other hand, she’d have lost a golden opportunity to ensure that Louisa would drop her testimony against herself and Federico. She glances at her watch. Three minutes to eleven. ‘We’d better get in position.’

Federico ties on a headscarf Valentina bought en route and wraps up tight in blankets that she brought from the hotel. The only thing that could give the game away from a distance is his feet. They bought a pair of low-heeled black women’s shoes, but Federico has taken to them like a drunk to ice.

Valentina gets out of the car and goes round the back.

Now she’s out on the street, she presumes her every move is being watched.

She opens the rear door and begins to act in character. ‘Take it easy now, you’re very weak. Let me help you out of there.’

The lieutenant tries to keep his head down and his back bent as he clambers out of the car.

Valentina puts a protective arm around him, just as she would a frail old grandmother. ‘We’re going to walk you over to the fountain, where we’ll meet Dr Verdetti.’

Federico shuffles along, acutely aware that nothing about his walk is feminine. The best he can do is move slowly so it looks like he’s weak and in pain.

The wind across the street blows up into his face and threatens to dislodge his headscarf. He grabs it and inches it further down his forehead.

It takes them almost a year to make the hundred metres to the fountain.

Or at least it feels like that.

The wind kicks up again, and with it comes the first spit of a light shower. Valentina uses it as an excuse to hold Federico close to her, his face all but buried between her breasts.

Not that he minds.

She glances at her watch. Almost five past. There’s no sign of Louisa.

She swivels her head and looks around, as would anyone innocently trying to find their boss at a public meeting point.

Nothing.

All stake-outs and stings get the adrenalin rushing, and this one is no different. Both Valentina and Federico are fully tanked, and they have to use all their professionalism not to do anything rash.

A group of pensioners emerges from the church, chattering enthusiastically.

Valentina takes some comfort from the fact that Tom is inside somewhere.

If she needs him, she knows he’ll come through for her.

The shower starts to become more of a downpour. The rain driving into her face gives her an idea. ‘Come on, let’s get you back to the car before you get soaking wet.’ She turns a bewildered Federico round and all but frogmarches him towards her Fiat.

‘Hey!’ he whispers anxiously, head pressed to her arm as they walk. ‘What are you doing?’

Valentina ignores him.

Her instincts tell her they’ve already been spotted.

She’s pretty certain the kidnappers will recognise her motive as just being protective of a sickly patient.

But it’s a gamble. A big one.

She pulls open the passenger’s door and gently manoeuvres the swathed Federico inside. She leans into the car and whispers, ‘Keep your head down. Wait until I’m all the way back inside the courtyard, and then drive off and park up a few streets away.’

Valentina doesn’t wait for an answer.

She shuts the door, turns around and takes out her cell phone.

In the distance she sees movement near the fountain. Not Louisa.

A tall, wiry man.

Staring at her.

She looks down and pulls up Louisa’s cell number on her phone.

She dials and looks up again.

The man is walking towards her.

Louisa’s phone is ringing out.

Valentina takes a long, slow breath to calm the thumping in her chest and starts to walk towards the staring man.