The office was small and lined with books from floor to ceiling. A desk, littered with papers and books and lit by a green-shaded lamp, stood in the middle of the room.
Pedoni paused in the doorway and looked at the girl with the Venetian red hair who sat behind bis desk, her face white and tense.
"That could have been the man who followed me last night," she said.
Pedoni flinched.
"Do you think he is from the police?" he asked, coming over to the desk.
"Don't talk like a fool. Does he look like a policeman?" She got to her feet and began to move slowly about the crowded room. "He may be the man who followed me in London. He has the same build." She paused, then picked up the telephone receiver. She called a number, waited a moment, then said, "Willie, there's a job I want you to do. Look out for a tall, heavily-built American, about thirty-five, dark, small moustache and a Z-shaped scar on his right cheek. He's wearing a bottle-green linen suit: no hat. I want to know who he is and where he is staying. Keep with him. Find out if he is alone or with others. If you are quick you might pick him up right away. He's only just left the shop."
She replaced the receiver, snatched up her coat that was lying on a chair and slipped it on.
"I must get back," she said. "This could be dangerous." The alarm in her eyes sent a twinge of fear through Pedoni that quickened the beat of his heart.
Chapter Vll
CORNERED
Felix - no one except the French police knew him by any other name - was indulging in his favourite pastime. He was standing before the big mirror above the fireplace, admiring his reflection. He was as handsome as any movie star could hope to be. He had dark, glossy hair, wide-set, dark-blue eyes, clean-cut features, a deeply tanned complexion and magnificent teeth that he took trouble to show when he laughed; a difficult feat as his upper lip was a shade too long, and unless he made the effort to curl it back, the effect of his gleaming white teeth was lost. His mouth was thin and cruel and this, combined with his better features, gave him a reckless, dashing appearance that most women found irresistible.
He was thirty-two years of age. Six of these years had been spent in prison. Before he was caught, he had roamed the French Riviera, plundering the villas of the rich. His success had been phenomenal. In sixteen months he had cleaned up fifty million francs, most of which he had lost at the Monte Carlo Sporting Club in two feverish and spell-binding sessions at the roulette table. To recoup his losses, he had gone after a diamond necklace reputed to be worth twenty-five million francs. He succeeded in stealing it although he had been forced into a hand-to-hand fight with a night watchman whom he was fortunate enough not to kill. The fence to whom he had taken the necklace refused to pay more than seven million francs for it, explaining at length the risk involved and the fact that when the necklace was broken up1, its value was negligible. Knowing the police would have a description of him from the night watchman and that he would have to get out of France, Felix endeavoured to persuade the fence to raise his offer. His method of persuasion consisted of beating up the fence with fists carefully protected by leather gloves, the knuckles of which were ornamented with brass studs.
This was an error of judgment, for while the beating was in progress, the fence's wife alarmed by the uproar, called in the police, and for the first time in his life, Felix found himself inside a French prison.
Identified by the night watchman and betrayed by the fence, Felix was sentenced to fifteen years on Devil's Island. He spent six of these years in the steamy hell of the island before managing to escape. Taking refuge in Rome and knowing that a single false move would send him back to the island, he lived cautiously, getting himself a job as a tout for a shady nightclub. It was at this club that he met Lorelli.
Before meeting her, Felix regarded all women as amusing toys to be brutally used, discarded and forgotten. Lorelli, he quickly discovered, had other ideas in her beautiful head besides satisfying his physical needs. It was she who had suggested he should offer his services to Simon Alsconi, and it was she who had arranged the first meeting.
He was adjusting his tie in the mirror when the door opened and Lorelli came in. He turned to smile at her, but his smile froze when he saw her expression and how white she was. "What is it?" he asked sharply.
Lorelli shut the door, slipped off her coat and came over to the fire.
"You remember I told you about the man who followed me in London and put the police on to me?" she said a little breathlessly. "And I told you I was followed last night? The same man was in Pedoni's shop just now. He asked Pedoni for a book on the history of Siena that would explain how the wards acquired their names. He mentioned the Tortoise ward."
Felix stiffened.
"Sure it's the same man?"
"Almost sure. He's the same build. I didn't see his face in London or last night, but I'm practically sure."
"Who is he?"
"I don't know. I gave Willie a description of him and he's looking for him now."
Felix lit a cigarette and sat down by the fire.
"Is he from the police?"
"I shouldn't think so. He's certainly not a policeman. He is an American and he looks wealthy. He mentioned Genga and Vaga: he seems to know their history." She clenched her fists. "I've always thought this was dangerous. We're giving too much away. I had a feeling sooner or later someone with a few brains would get on to us."
"Take it easy," Felix said. "You're getting into a panic. Let's face it: up to now it's worked like a charm. Okay, I admit I was doubtful myself at one time that this set-up did give too much away, but Alsconi insisted on playing it that way or not at all. He genuinely believes he is levelling old scores. We couldn't have worked up a racket like this on our own.
It's the publicity that's done it. Look at the way the suckers have paid up: we scarcely have any trouble. Look at the money we're making."
"The money won't help us if we're caught," Lorelli said. "This has gone on long enough, Felix. I'm sure this American is on to us. He'll tell the police. It's time for us to quit."
"Quit? What do you mean?" Felix demanded, his eyes hardening.
"You know what quit means, don't you?" Lorelli said, her voice rising. "We've got to get out of here before we're caught! This has gone on long enough. I was so sure of myself before I went to London. I must have been mad to have had anything to do with Gina's murder. They could hang me for that! I didn't realize what I was doing until we had her in the car, then it was too late to back out. I can't sleep at night, thinking of what happened.
Now this American is on to us. He'll tell the police. I know he will!"
"Stop it!" Felix said angrily. "You've got cold feet.' Pull yourself together!"
"How can you talk like that?" Lorelli said wildly. "Can't you see...?"
He got up and took hold of her.
"Shut up," he said violently and gave her a little shake. "Listen to me: you play your cards according to the cards you hold in your hand. If you win you win; if you go down, you take it. Right now you and I have a straight flush. We have never been so well off. No damned American is going to make you or me chuck in a hand as good as a straight flush."
She pulled away from him.
"You stupid fool!" she said angrily. "I've been waiting for this. I knew sooner or later someone would get on to us. I knew it! We have had our run; now it's time we got out. We've got to get away from here before the police move in! We could go to Buenos Aires."
Felix stared at her.
"Gould we?" He smiled unpleasantly. "Is that what you have been hopefully planning when you couldn't sleep? It's a charming thought. Can you imagine Alsconi's delight when we announce we are leaving him?"