The nurse came hurrying in. She looked at Robert reprovingly. “You will have to leave, signore.”
“I need just one more minute—”
“No, signore. Adesso!”
Robert took one last look at the priest. He was raving incoherently. Robert turned to go. There was nothing further he could do. He had gambled on the priest giving him a lead to the Texan, and he had lost.
Robert returned to his car and headed back toward Rome. It was finally over. The only clues he had left—if they could be called clues—were the mention of a Russian woman, a Texan, and a Hungarian. But there was no way to pursue them any farther. Check and checkmate. It was frustrating to have come this far and then to be stopped. If only the priest had remained coherent long enough to give him the information he needed! He had been so close. What was it the priest had said? The Ponderosa. The old priest has been watching too much television and, in his delirium, he obviously associated Texas with the oncepopular TV show, “Bonanza.” The Ponderosa, where the mythical Cartwright family lived. The Ponderosa. Robert slowed the car and pulled over to the side of the road, his mind racing. He made a U-turn and sped back toward Orvieto.
Half an hour later, Robert was talking to the bartender in a small trattoria in the Piazza della Repubblica. “You have a beautiful town here,” Robert said. “It’s very peaceful.”
“Oh, si, signore, we are quite content here. Have you visited Italy before?”
“I spent part of my honeymoon in Rome.” “You make all my dreams come true, Robert. I’ve wanted to see Rome ever since I was a little girl.”
“Ah, Rome. Too big. Too noisy.”
“I agree.”
“We live simple lives here, but we are happy.”
Robert said casually, “I noticed television antennas on many of the roofs here.”
“Oh, yes, indeed. We are quite up-to-date in that respect.”
“One can see that. How many television channels does the town receive?”
“Only one.”
“I suppose you get a good many American shows?”
“No, no. This is a government channel. Here we receive only shows made in Italy.”
Bingo! “Thank you.”
Robert placed a call to Admiral Whittaker. A secretary answered the phone. “Admiral Whittaker’s office.”
Robert could visualize the office. It would be the kind of anonymous cubbyhole they kept for nonpersons the government no longer had any use for.
“Could I speak to the admiral, please? Commander Robert Bellamy calling.”
“Just a moment, Commander.”
Robert wondered whether anybody bothered to keep in touch with the admiral now that the once-powerful figure was part of the mothball fleet. Probably not.
“Robert, it’s very good to hear from you.” The old man’s voice sounded tired. “Where are you?”
“I can’t say, sir.”
There was a pause. “I understand. Is there something I can do for you?”
“Yes, sir. This is rather awkward because I’ve been ordered not to communicate with anyone. But I need some outside help. I wonder if you could check on something for me?”
“I can certainly try. What would you like to know?”
“I need to know whether there’s a ranch anywhere in Texas called The Ponderosa.”
“As in Bonanza?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I can find out. How will I reach you?”
“I think it would be better if I called you, Admiral.”
“Right. Give me an hour or two. I’ll keep this just between ourselves.”
“Thank you.”
It seemed to Robert that the tiredness had gone out of the old man’s voice. He had, at last, been asked to do something, even if it was as trivial as locating a ranch.
Two hours later, Robert telephoned Admiral Whittaker again.
“I’ve been waiting for your call,” the admiral said. There was a satisfied note in his voice. “I have the information you wanted.”
“And?” Robert held his breath.
“There is a Ponderosa ranch in Texas. It’s located just outside of Waco. It’s owned by a Dan Wayne.”
Robert heaved a deep sigh of relief. “Thank you very much, Admiral,” Robert said. “I owe you a dinner when I get back.”
“I’ll be looking forward to that, Robert.”
Robert’s next call was to General Hilliard. “I located another witness in Italy. Father Patrini.”