"We'll get Giuseppe first," Marian said, and crossing to the telephone she put a call through to Don's palazza in Venice.
Giuseppe Spinolo was Don's gondolier, and while Don was not in residence, Giuseppe also acted as caretaker to the small palazza Don owned on the Grand Canal. Marian was lucky to contact him and she told him briefly what had happened.
"Harry wants you here," she went on. "If you can bring some of your friends..."
"I will come at once," Giuseppe said, "and I will bring my friends. Do not worry, we will find ilsignore. We will be with you some time tonight."
"He's coming," Marian said as she hung up. "Now, Harry, I would like to see this house. Let's get the car out and explore. We'll want to know what the roads and the country are like before Giuseppe comes..." she broke off as Harry suddenly jumped to his feet.
Seeing he was staring past her, she looked quickly over her shoulder.
Standing in the doorway, a .25 automatic in her hand, was Lorelli.
The mid-afternoon sun blazed down into the garden of the Trioni villa and Willie, sitting with his back to a tree where he had a good view of the villa, struggled to keep awake.
He had seen Marian arrive, and he had been told that within an hour Lorelli would be coming to the villa to deliver the first instructions concerning Micklem's ransom.
Felix had said to him: "Your job is to cover Lorelli. Keep out of sight, but be ready to move in if they try any tricks. Use your gun if you have to."
Willie took out a dirty handkerchief and wiped his sweating face. He would have given a lot to be able to shut his eyes and have a refreshing sleep, but he knew that was more than he dared do. He looked at his strap watch. She should be here any moment now. He pulled a .38 automatic from his hip pocket and checked the clip. He balanced the gun in his hand while he looked at the villa, wishing he was in there and out of the burning sun. It seemed to Willie that he had spent all his life wishing for something. His main passions in life were women and high-power cars. Women shunned his pock-marked face and stunted body and he never seemed able to earn enough money to buy the car he wanted.
At the age of fourteen he had started life as a porter to a small disreputable hotel in Genoa. His feeble attempts to make money by stealing from the hotel's clients had eventually landed him in jail. He had spent most of his forty years in and out of prison, and it was only when Alsconi had taken him into his organization that his prison sentences ceased.
Although he was now reasonably well paid, he still could not indulge himself in the car he wanted, and women were still out of his reach. He hankered for more money. No matter how ugly a man was, he argued, women would favour him if he had money: not the kind of money he earned, but big money, and he ached to have it. If there was one thing he ached for more than anything else it was Lorelli. She bewitched him. He knew she was Felix's woman and that it would be disastrous for him if Felix knew what was in his mind. He knew too Lorelli wouldn't look at him. His face, his physique and his lack of money presented far more formidable barriers than Felix's fists. Up to now he had accepted the position, but he never gave up hoping. He
dreamed of Lorelli and hoped. Without his dreams or his hopes life wouldn't be worth living. For forty years he had lived on dreams. Sooner or later, he kept assuring himself, his dreams must turn to reality.
He was brooding about Lorelli when, looking up, he saw her.
She was making her way towards the villa through the shrubs and trees. He caught sight of her just in time. He had been told by Felix not to show himself, and he flattened out into the long grass, lying motionless as Lorelli passed within twenty feet of him.
He raised his head to watch her, and he admired the way she slipped from shrub to tree and from tree to shrub, moving silently and swiftly.
He got to his feet and went after her. He saw her run across the open space between the villa and the garden, mount the steps to the veranda and pause outside the front door.
He waited behind a tree, watching her. He saw her turn the handle of the door and open it. She looked back, but Willie, who was an expert in such matters, had anticipated such a move and had quickly withdrawn behind the tree. When he peered around the tree again, she had disappeared from his sight.
Holding the .38 in his hand, he moved towards the villa, darted up the steps and to the front door. She had left it ajar, and he leaned against the wall by the door and listened.
He he,ard Marian say: "We'll want to know what the roads and the country are like before Giuseppe comes..."
Then Lorelli's voice said, "Don't move - any of you!"
Willie nodded his head approvingly at the tone of her voice. She had got just the right snap in it. He could imagine her with the .25 in her hand, her green eyes glittering. It was going to be a dead easy job for him. She could handle this: he wouldn't be called on to help.
The snap in Lorelli's voice checked Harry's move forward. He looked at her hard white face, at the gun and then back to her again and decided the distance between them was too great.
"Sit down!" Lorelli said, and lifted the gun so that it pointed at Harry's eyes.
Harry sat down.
Lorelli moved into the room. She decided only Harry was dangerous. Marian she dismissed instantly, and after a quick look at Cherry who sat on the edge of his chair, his fat face startled and his eyes popping, she dismissed him too. She kept well away from the three of them and leaned her back against the wall.
"Micklem is well and safe," she said, speaking rapidly. "He is no longer in Siena so it is useless to try to find him. He has written a letter to his New York bank and you are to deliver it at once." She looked towards Marian. "If there is any query by the bank about the amount, you are to tell them Micklem is going to buy a villa in Italy."
Without taking her eyes off Harry, she opened her handbag, took out the letter and tossed it across the room where it fell at Marian's feet.
Harry said in a cold, hard voice, "You don't kid me. I know Mr Micklem is in that house, and if your gang hurts him you and they will be damned sorry."
Willie, who had moved silently into the hall, grinned. He propped himself up against the wall, his gun hanging slackly in his hand while he listened.
Marian picked up the letter. She slit it open and read the contents. She recognized Don's firm handwriting. The letter contained instructions for selling certain stocks to the value of five hundred thousand dollars which were to be immediately transferred to the Banca de Roma. There was no message for her which she hoped to find.
She said quietly, "And when the money is paid into the bank what happens then?"
"Micklem will write a cheque," Lorelli said. "You will cash it. When the money is handed to us, he will be released."
"What guarantee have I that he will be released?"
Lorelli shrugged.
"That's nothing to do with me. I am telling you what I have been told to tell you. You are to leave for New York immediately."
Marian looked over at Harry, then she shrugged. The transfer of such a sum of money would take several days. There was time to work out what the next move should be.
"Very well," she said. "I will follow out the instructions." "If you contact the police about this," Lorelli went on,
"Micklem will suffer. Neither you nor the police will ever find him. If you try any tricks, you will never see him again."
Pretty nice, Willie thought. I couldn't have handled it better myself. He made to move back to the front door to be out of the way when Lorelli came out, when her next words brought him to an abrupt stop.
"That is what I have been told to tell you," she said, looking at Marian, "but it is a lie. Micklem will not be released. He is worth two million pounds. They intend to get all of it, and when they have got it, they will murder him."