The Scorpio Illusion Part 40

"What?"

"Do it, Captain!" shouted Tye, trying to read the jiggling digits on the phone. "Call me back-heres the number." Hawthorne gave it to him and hung up the phone, twice missing the cradle in his anxiety.

"Where to, Commander?" asked Poole.

"Drive around for a while. I dont want to stop anywhere until he calls back."

"If itll make you feel a bit relieved," continued the air force lieutenant, "that Gulfstream is headed straight through to Charlotte. Itll land in an hour and a half, plus or minus for a few thunder-b.u.mpers."

"I cant wait to hear who cleared that b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Fivell get you twenty its someone in this gatehouse log."

"Are you feeling all right, Tye?" Neilsen turned, looking over the part.i.tion at Hawthornes stretched-out legs and the hands that were ma.s.saging them.

"What does that mean? Im perfectly fine, except Im a charter, not a commando."

"I can stop and get some ice," said Poole.

The telephone rang; Tyrell grabbed it. "Yes?"

"This is the cellular operator, sir. Is this number-"

"Never mind, operator, Id know that bark anywhere," said the overriding voice of Henry Stevens. "Weve got the wrong limo."

"Were very sorry, sir, please excuse the inconvenience-"

Hawthorne hung up. "At least hes moving fast," said Tyrell.

They drove around the Virginia countryside, seeing little because of the darkness, and pa.s.sing the large estates of the hunt-country millionaires, only innocuous comments filling the void of pertinent conversation. The tension was driving the three of them to the point of babbling. Then exactly eighteen minutes later, the limousine phone rang again.

"What have you walked into," asked an ice-cold Captain Henry Stevens.

"What have you got for me?"

"Something neither one of us wants to hear. We traced the cellular number of Van Nostrands limousine-his other limo-and had the operator verify for line interference. All we heard on the override was the usual, recorded 'driver has left the vehicle. "

"So? Keep trying!"

"No reason to. Our crossover computers picked up a state police report with the identical license plate and registration-"

"They were stopped? Hold them-"

"They werent stopped," Stevens broke in, his cool manner becoming frigid. "Have you any idea who Van Nostrand is?"

"Enough to know he went around you to reach me, Henry." As an astonished Stevens started to reply, Tyrell cut him off. "You were out of the loop, Captain, and youd better bless your stars you werent in it. If you had been, Id have cut your throat with your eyes wide open."

"What the h.e.l.l are you talking about?"

"I was summoned to my own execution-fortunately, I survived."

"I dont believe this!"

"Believe me, I dont lie where my lifes concerned. Weve got to find that other limo, find Bajaratt. Now, where is it?"

"At the bottom of a ravine off a back-country road in Fairfax," said the stunned chief of naval intelligence in a quiet monotone. "The drivers dead."

"Where are the others? There were two, one of them Little Girl Blood!"

"You say-"

"I know! Where are they?"

"There was no one else, just the driver-shot in the head.... I ask you again, Tye, do you know who this Van Nostrand is? The police are on their way to his place right now!"

"Theyll find him in the library, stone-cold deep. Good-bye, Henry." Hawthorne hung up the phone and leaned back in the seat, his legs and arms in pain, his head throbbing from the anxiety and the tension. "Forget the limousine," he said, bringing his hand to his leaded eyes. "Its totaled, the drivers dead."

"Bajaratt?" Neilsen whipped her head around. "Where is she?"

"Who knows? Somewhere within a hundred-mile radius is as good a bet as any, but were not going to find her tonight. Maybe well learn something from the gatehouse log, maybe more from the Charlotte airport ... or perhaps even more from a combination of both. Lets find a place where we can rest and get something to eat. As an old trainer once told me, both are weapons."

"We pa.s.sed a pretty nice-lookin place a while back," said Poole. "Actually, I dont know where wed find another; its the only motel Ive seen, and weve been drivin all over the area. As a matter of fact, Cath and I were supposed to be registered there, courtesy of Van Nostrand. Of course, we werent-never meant to be."

"The Shenandoah Lodge, wasnt it?" asked the major.

"Thats it," replied the lieutenant.

"Turn around," said Tyrell.

20.

Nicolo Montavi of Portici paced rapidly back and forth, trembling from fear and exhaustion, rivulets of sweat rolling down his face, his eyes wide and darting this way and that at nothing, betraying his panic. Less than an hour before he had committed not only a terrible crime but a mortal sin in the eyes of G.o.d! He had a.s.sisted in the taking of a human life-not the killing itself, thanks be to Christ-but he had not stopped it in that swift second or two when he saw Cabrini take the gun from her purse. He had been confused, still appalled, horrified by the gunfire that accompanied their escape from the huge estate. The signora had ordered the chauffeur to stop the limousine, that was all! Then she withdrew her gun and shot him in the back of his head as coldly as if-as if she were swatting a fly, that was it! Moments later she had commanded her dock boy to push the car off the side of the road, where it plunged down the embankment into a ravine. He could not disobey, for the weapon was in her hand, and he knew in his heart-for it was in her eyes-that she would kill him if he refused. Madonna della tristezza!

Amaya Bajaratt sat on the couch in the minisuite at the Shenandoah Lodge, facing a hysterical Nicolo. "Is there anything else you wish to say, my dear? If so, please lower your voice."

"You are a madwoman, completely insane! You shot that man for no reason at all-you will send us both to h.e.l.l!"

"Im glad you understand that youre included on the journey."

"You shot him just as you shot that black servant on the island, and he was only a driver!" interrupted the young Italian feverishly. "The lies, the clothes, this juego we play with such important people ... ah, bueno, che cosa? games for the rich who pay money, it is not so different on the docks in Portici ... but not killing two such people. My G.o.d, a simple driver!"

"He was not a simple driver. When I told you to search his pockets, what did you find?"

"A gun," the dock boy replied quietly, reluctantly.

"Do simple drivers carry weapons?"

"In Italy, many do to protect their employers."

"Possibly, but not here in the United States. Here there are laws we dont have."

"I know nothing of such laws."

"I do, and I tell you that man was a criminal, an agente segreto sworn to destroy our great cause."

"You have such a great cause?"

"The greatest, Nicolo. There is none like it in the world today, a cause the Church itself silently blesses us for dedicating our lives to it."

"Il Vaticano? But you are not of my church! You have no faith!"

"In this area I do, I give you my solemn word, and thats all Im permitted to tell you. So you see, your concerns are not that important. Now do you understand?"

"No, I do not, signora."

"You dont have to," Bajaratt broke in firmly. "Think how rich you are in Napoli, and of the great family that welcomes you as its own in Ravello. While youre doing so, go into the bedroom and unpack us."

"You are a very difficult woman," said Nicolo in a monotone, his eyes unblinking.

"Ever so. Quickly now, I have calls to make." The young Italian retreated into the bedroom as the Baj reached for the telephone on the side table. She dialed the number of their hotel and asked for the concierge. She identified herself, giving instructions for the luggage she had left behind, and inquired as to her messages, for which she had handsomely tipped the concierge.

"Thank you for your generosity, madame," said an unctuous voice at the hotel in Was.h.i.+ngton, "and be a.s.sured that your needs are being looked after with utmost care. Were sorry you had to leave so abruptly, but hope to have you back when youre again in the nations capital."

"The messages, please." There were five, the most important one from Senator Nesbitt of Michigan; several others were in varying degrees helpful but not vital, and the last enigmatic. It was from the red-haired young political consultant they had met in Palm Beach, the oped contributor to The New York Times who had steered them to the dangerously inquisitive reporter from The Miami Herald-so dangerous Bajaratt had had to eliminate him quickly, with a jab of her lethal bracelet. She called the senator first.

"I have promising if unconfirmed news for you, Countess. My colleague in the Senate has tentatively set a meeting with the President in three days. Of course, it will be pursuant to our understanding-"

"Naturalmente!" interrupted the Baj. "The barone will be so pleased, and you will not be forgotten, Senator, believe me."

"Thats most kind of you.... Your appearance will be off the books, that is, not listed on the Presidents schedule. Therell be only one photographer, approved by the White House Chief of Staff, and you will sign a release specifically stating that the photo session is for personal use and not for the press, either here or abroad. Extreme personal embarra.s.sment would follow if the release is violated."

"Completely private!" Bajaratt agreed. "You have the word of a great Italian family."

"And thats completely acceptable," said Nesbitt, his tone of voice lighthearted, allowing a chuckle. "However, should the barons financial interests prove politically favorable, especially in regionally depressed areas, I guarantee that the Chief of Staff will have the photo of the President and the barons son published all over the place. To counter that conceivable eventuality, my colleague from Michigan and I will have separate photographs taken flanking your nephew-without the President."

"How interesting," observed the Baj, laughing softly.

"You dont know the Chief of Staff," said Nesbitt. "If that Oval Office picture has mileage, no one else climbs on the trolley.... Where may I call you? The hotel said it was taking your messages-"

"Were traveling so much, you see." The Baj, sensing a problem, broke in quickly. "I trust one day soon well be going to your state of Michigan, but everything is happening so rapidly. Dante Paolo has the energy of six young bulls."

"Its none of my business, Countess, but Id think it would be far easier on you, and perhaps more efficient, if you had an office and a staff-at least a secretary who knew where to find you. Im sure through the barons many friends here, dozens would be available to you. And I certainly could help you there, perhaps my own office."

"The answer to our prayers, but, alas, it cannot be. My brother is above reproach in all things, but he prizes confidentiality as thoroughly as he does ethics, no doubt because there are so many unethical men in world finance. The staff and the secretaries are in Ravello, nowhere else. We call every day, frequently twice or three times. Theyve been with him for years."

"Hes a cautious fella," said the senator, "and d.a.m.ned right to be so. The BCCI fiasco, along with Watergate and Iran-contra, has taught us all that. I just hope your telephones are secure."

"We travel with point-of-origin scramblers calibrated to reception frequencies, signore. What could be more secure?"

"My, that is sophisticated. The Defense Department tells us that terrorists have homed in on that technology. Pretty d.a.m.ned impressive."

"We would know nothing about such people, Senator, but for us it provides a measure of safety.... I will, of course, check with the hotels concierge every hour or so."

"Please do, Countess. In the Was.h.i.+ngton circus, three days could become tomorrow or yesterday."

"I understand completely."

"You received the additional materials my office sent you, didnt you?"

"At this moment, Dante Paolo is talking to his father most enthusiastically on the other telephone about your proposals."

"You know, its really remarkable, Countess. A young man that bright, that intuitive. The baron must be terribly proud. And you, Countess, a knowledgeable, lovely sister he can confide in, a woman of such charm, such diplomacy. Have you ever thought of politics?"

"I think of them all the time," the Baj replied, a smile in her voice. "And how I wish theyd all disappear-they destroy me so."

"Please, some of us need the work. Ill leave a message for you with the specifics of your visit to the White House.... And, of course, you know how to reach me if you have news from Ravello."

"Not if, Signor Nesbitt, merely when. Arrivederci." Bajaratt replaced the phone, her eyes on the Shenandoah stationery on which she had written the numbers and the names she had been given by the hotel in Was.h.i.+ngton. Three of them could wait, so could the last, but sheer curiosity forced her to lift the receiver and dial the red-haired young political consultant from Palm Beach.

"Reillys Plumbers," said the cheerful voice on the answering machine. "If your message relates to payment for my services, press one. If it doesnt, get the h.e.l.l off the line and let someone worthwhile call me. You may, however, leave your name and even your number, but I make no promises." A long beep followed and the Baj spoke.

"We met in Palm Beach, Mr. Reilly, and Im returning your call-"

"Glad you did, Countess," the political consultant interrupted, breaking into the line. "Youre not an easy lady to track down."

"How did you, Mr. Reilly?"

"Sorry, thatll cost you," answered the young man, laughing. "On the other hand, since you didnt press one, Ill tell you for nothing."

"How kind of you."

"It was simple. I remembered a few of the Was.h.i.+ngton bears who were sniffing around your campfire and called their secretaries. Two out of three told me where you were."

"They were so free with the information?"

"They sure were after I explained that I just flew in from Rome with a confidential message for you from the big-shot baron-and how grateful hed be to know the name of anyone who helped me. Also, I happened to mention that diamond bracelets spelling out the name Ravello werent out of the question. You know how expansive these rich Italians are."

"You are a rogue, Mr. Reilly."

"I keep trying, Countess. This town is filled with pros."

"Why did you wish to reach me?"