Ten minutes later Sisto signaled him from the top. Joey got in the Opel, sped up the driveway, parked on the flat gravel area next to the house, and got out with the gay shotgun Mazara had given him. Psuz was standing at the edge of the parking area, staring up at the roofline as if he were expecting McCabe to jump out a window or slide down the tiles.
Mazara was moving through the kitchen, two hands on the Tanfoglio. He entered a big room with walls of stone and beams in the ceiling. The floor was made of wood planks covered by a rug. He saw Sisto coming in the front of the house, coming through the salon, Sisto pointing to the ceiling, the gesture, saying McCabe could be up there. But only a fool would do that and this McCabe was not a fool. Mazara followed Sisto up the stairs. There were two bedrooms. He looked out the window to the west and saw Viterbo a few kilometers away.
He crossed the room and looked out toward Bagnaia, a village to the east. He went back downstairs and saw the telescope on a tripod in the main room in front of a window. He didn't notice it before. He went over and looked through the lens, turned it to the left and saw them, two figures he recognized as McCabe and Angela, a couple hundred meters away, at least, running along the road. Mazara didn't see anyone pointing a gun at her, or forcing her to run. It looked like she wanted to go with McCabe. Seeing this confused him. He grabbed his crotch for good luck, told himself she was just doing what she was told, a prisoner, waiting for an opportunity to escape.
McCabe went upstairs to get his backpack, looked out the bedroom window and saw them starting up the hill in front of the villa. Further to the right he could see the rear fender of the Opel parked on the side of the road. Howd they find him? He ran downstairs. Angela was in the kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee. "They're here," McCabe said.
"What?"
"Coming up the hill."
They went out the front door and over the wall and down the eastern slope toward the road, stopped a couple of times and took cover behind stands of oak and sycamore trees. Sisto and Mazara were coming up the hill toward the villa as they were going down. At one point they were only about twenty yards away. McCabe also saw Joey drive up in the Opel, but by that time they were walking along the road. Angela had her thumb out and a car was stopping.
Angela got in front and McCabe in the rear seat behind her. The driver was a thin middle-aged guy, hair going gray, looked like an accountant, white shirt and tie. He smiled at Angela and said something in Italian.
Angela glanced at him, her expression seductive and innocent. It was the same look she'd given McCabe at the wine bar the afternoon they met, and now the man was hooked just as McCabe had been. He said something to Angela in Italian. She turned her head and looked back at McCabe.
"He wants to know where we are going. What should I tell him?"
"Soriano nel Cimino."
Angela told the driver and he glanced at her and said something in Italian. She looked back at McCabe and said, "He's going to Montecampano. Soriano is out of his way, but he said he would take us."
"I think he likes you," McCabe said. And on cue the accountant looked at Angela again, and smiled. She was good-looking, but there was something down-to-earth and approachable about her that gave even a middle-aged accountant the confidence to hit on her.
Angela said, "He wants to know if you play football."
"Tell him no, I kidnapped you and the bag is filled with ransom money."
She did, and he laughed.
They went through Bagnaia and passed the sculpted Renaissance gardens of Villa Lante. After that, the driving became more difficult and the views more spectacular as they climbed the steep grade into the mountains. The driver kept glancing at Angela, grinning and talking. His name was Dante Lanzetta and he worked in the Palazzo del Plebiscito. How was that for coincidence? Dante told them they had to see the Sasso del Predicatore. McCabe remembered reading about it, a huge stone monument called the Preacher's Rock. He'd like to see it but didn't think they'd have a chance to do any sightseeing on this particular trip.
Thirty minutes later they drove into Soriano nel Cimino, a hill town with a population of about eight thousand. It was 3:30, sun hanging on top of the mountains. He could see the narrow shape of the clock tower and the walls and batdements of Orsini Castle. They were on Via Santa Maria, approaching the town center. McCabe told Dante he could let them out anywhere along there, and he pulled over.
"Where they at?" Joey said to the three Italians. They gave him blank looks. What else was new? "I don't believe it. We don't find them, I've got to tell the don his little girl's been kidnapped and you bozos let it happen." He grinned, couldn't hold it back. They were in the villa kitchen.
Mazara said he'd seen Angela and McCabe get in a tan Fiat and drive off in the direction of Bagnaia. Sisto went out to the car and came back with a map. He unfolded it and spread it out on the table. Roberto pointed to where they were. He traced a line with his index finger.
Joey said, "Okay, genius, so where they going?"
"I think to the autostrada and back to Roma."
Joey couldn't disagree with him. Jesus Christ, there was nothing around them except for small towns scattered through the hills. Would McCabe risk checking into a hotel? Joey doubted it. The carabinieri would be looking for him too. "Let's go. You can drop me off in Mentana, talk to the don yourself, tell him what happened to Angela, and where his money's at. I'm sure he'll be anxious to see you."
Then Mazara surprised him, looked up from the map and said, "You want McCabe? I have a way."
"Is that right?" Joey said. "What do you got? Let's hear it."
Mazara told him, laid out his plan and it sounded good, sounded realistic and doable.
Joey said, "Now you're talking." He agreed not to say anything to his Unk, let it play out a little longer. What difference would another day make?
Chapter Thirty-three
"Do you know where McCabe is?" Arturo looked at his eyes, believing after twenty-eight years with the carabinieri he could see dishonesty in a man's eyes.
"No," Chip Tallenger said. "I have not seen or talked to him since Thursday evening."
If he was lying, Arturo could see no evidence of it. He did not look down or look away or even blink, his eyes calm and steady. "What time did McCabe come to the room?"
"Nine, nine-fifteen. Picked up a couple things and left," Chip said.
"I must've seen him a few minutes later," Signor Rady said.
"Per favore," Arturo said to him. "If you please. I want to find out what happened."
"McCabe's no longer a student at this university," Signor Rady said. "I'm telling you this because he's no longer our responsibility or concern."
"Yes, but Signor McCabe is still my concern, so if you will indulge me."
"Okay," Signor Rady said, "but I don't see-"
Arturo had contacted Signor Rady about meeting with Chip Tallenger, a confidential discussion, but Rady insisted on being there, imposing his authority. This was university property and Signor Tallenger was a student, registered and enrolled, so Rady had to be present. They were in his office, once again, at the small table.
"I can't help you," Chip Tallenger said, although his eyes seemed to be saying he wanted to.
"You see the automobile, the Fiat rented by Signor McCabe?"
"Not till it was on TV."
"If you know something," Signor Rady said, flashing an angry look at Chip, "you better tell him. By protecting McCabe you're only going to make it worse."
Chip looked at Arturo. "Who's after him?"
"Signor Rady, give us a moment," Arturo said.