Vatican nearly sussed out enough.
'And I'll need two tables.' I'd told Anna. 'The sort you see in cafeterias, the typical modern tavola calda table. Tubular steel and all that.'
She promised to take me round a couple of supply firms at the weekend to see which I liked. She counted on her fingers. 'You need a white plastic collar, two silk ropes, a disposable razor, a pencil torch. A new tie. An ambulance. Squares of cloth. That it?'
'Oh. And a pharmacopoeia.'
'A what?'
'A book of common drugs. But a proper one—not a granny's home guide.'
She looked doubtful. 'That might take a day or so, Lovejoy.'
'I want an out-of-date one, 1930s or 1940s.'
'Are you kidding me?'
'I never have yet, love. If you can't get one, I'll join the library.'
That stung. It was a slur on her expertise as a thief. Her lips thinned. 'I've never missed yet, Lovejoy.'
I waited till she reached the door, then said, 'And a hand grenade.'
'Okay.' She didn't even pause. The door closed with a slam. Like I said, a real pro.
CHAPTER 17
I waited until Anna's breathing had evened out. She had quickly become used to my reading till all hours, though at first she played hell about the light. Now she just let me read.
The trouble was we were becoming acutely conscious of each other. At least, I was of her, and a few times I saw her regarding me with an odd look. We'd become very reserved in a curious sort of way. I was worn out being polite. Still, we both understood the reason we were together: the rip, the whole rip and nothing but the rip. That's what I told myself.
I let myself out in my bare feet. She had given me a key the second day. The only risk was the couple of groups who lived upstairs, one small family right at the top and an elderly couple who worked as caretakers to the furniture place next door. It felt clear.
In the alley I donned my socks and shoes and set off down the glittering, dark alleys.
A few minutes later I was on the workshop roof. It was easy enough. People forgot about roofs and floors when protecting places. Torch in my left pocket so I could cling with my right hand, and I began to climb, only partly paralysed with fear.
Some kind of gauze, a little separated, covered the window. When I think of it now it was lucky they were so preoccupied in that great oval bed. Bonny and plushily expensive, but modern crap, of course. Like the expensive Axminster carpet and the velvet drapery. And the splendid wall mirrors. And the oak panelling. It was a tasteful and elegantly appointed bedroom, and it was being put to proper use. Gold light shone from a Garian porcelain bedside lamp. Piero lay beside Adriana, hands behind his head as he talked at the ceiling. She lay on her side facing me, eyes closed. They seemed to be having words. Clinging there, my impressions were indelible: a glass with a small demilune of drink, a woman's satin robe over a chairback. The mirrors. The tight set of Adriana's mouth. Her lovely skin shining golden.
I realized with a sudden shock her eyes had opened and fixed on the window. She did not move. I froze, breaking into a sweat. My face was only a foot from the glass. I drew it slowly back and sank gently down below the level of the sill, hoping she hadn't seen me.
A few shaky minutes later I was tiptoeing into my pad. Anna gave me the fright of my life.
'Welcome home, Lovejoy,' her voice said, not a bit sleepy. 'You found her little love nest?' I could swear she was smiling. The little bitch had known about it all the time.
She could have saved me all that bother.
'Well, yes.'
As I lay down, knackered after my pointless exertions she put her geriatric voice on, for devilment. 'Signor Peci's been the pretty signora's stud for some time now. She likes them strong and handsome, Enrico. In case you're interested.'
'Don't call me Enrico.'
She cackled and I heard her turn over. I lay there sickened. Why I should feel like that I don't know, but at least now Piero's resistance to my winch was finally explained. No wonder he'd gone pale around the gills. I'd suggested turning his private knocking-shop into a store room for reproduction 'antiques'. There'd be no question of the decision Adriana would make—after giving my scheme a token consideration, for the sake of appearances.
'Poor Lovejoy.' I heard her mattress creak as she huddled down to sleep. 'You've a worse surprise to come.'
'What do you mean?' I tried again, getting mad. 'Anna. What surprise?'
She wouldn't say any more. I lay there wondering why it was suddenly so important to me and finally decided it was because Adriana's Emporium was the one place with everything I needed for the rip. Satisfied with my logic, I eventually rolled over to sleep.
'Cretino,' Anna murmured.
CHAPTER 18
The Holy Father blessed sixty thousand of us on that Palm Sunday. He spoke vehemently of the cross of faith and our responsibility. Not all life could be at our own behest or lived at the whim of desire, it seemed.
How right he was.
I applauded with the rest when he waved a cream-coloured frond in farewell. It was great to be part of a happy crowd. Anna thought so too, for she was busily working the dip in the thick tourist clusters round the fountains.
During the early part of the day, when the Holy Father was celebrating Mass on St Peter's steps, I reached my final decision. The well-guarded Arch of Bells was out. Its pace of life was too casual, far too intimate. Also the giant Portone di Bronzo was out.
I'd glimpsed inside when somebody was admitted for an audience. The habit those vigilant Swiss Guards had of standing on the steps ready to move either way was most disconcerting.
St Anne's gate was not too bad, for all it had distressed me when I first clapped eyes on it. I decided that was our exit line. Anna had been incredulous.
'You decide the way out first, Lovejoy? When you haven't even got in?'
'In is no problem.'
She was furious. 'Might your one and only partner know why?'
I grinned at her. 'They'll invite me in, love.' I got my own back by refusing to say any more.
During the mass exodus from the Square later I missed Anna, though I observed some disturbance over near the Vatican City post office. A policeman stopped me near the Cancello di Sant' Anna, giving me a momentary infarct.
'That your auntie over there in the police car?'
'Eh?'
'That old lady. She's been pickpocketing.'
Everybody was looking. 'Er, yes. Good heavens!' I pushed through the crowd towards the car. A tired policeman in the front seat was smoking a cigarette. Anna was hunched shamefacedly in the back, putting on an act of dizziness.
'This old bag—' the cop began.
'Auntie!' I cried in relief. 'Where've you been?'
'—causes us more trouble than the rest of Rome.'
'I've been looking everywhere for you!'
'Now, signor.' The copper with me tapped my shoulder. 'Now. We tire of her.
Understand? You take her in hand, or else…'
'I will! I promise!'
'If you looked after her properly she wouldn't need to steal.'
'You are right, signor,' I said, all humble. With my hand on my breast and my heart seething with murderous intentions towards Anna I smiled apologetically.
'We warn you,' the boss cop said, wearily exhaling smoke into my face like he was doing me favours. 'You are responsible in future. Okay?'
They took my name and address and let us off with a warning. I even had to sign for the silly old bitch. I grabbed Anna and backed off into the crowd, bowing and scraping to the cops as I went. All the way I said nothing, dragging Anna home in a blaze of white-hot fury, and once there it happened without any conscious decision. I didn't even give her time to have a shower. I gave her a damned good shaking, and called her all the names under the sun for risking the rip and getting us booked like that.