Pier looked at the money, making up her mind. It was tempting. It was cold outside, and business was slow. On the other hand, there was something strange about this man. First of all, he did not really seem to be drunk. He was nicely dressed, and for this much money, he could have checked them into a fine hotel. Well, Pier thought, what the hell? Questo cazzo se ne frega? “All right. There’s only this bed for the two of us.”
“That’s fine.”
Pier watched as Robert walked over to the window again and moved the edge of the curtain aside.
“You are looking for something?”
“Is there a back door out of the hotel?”
What am I getting myself into? Pier wondered. Her best friend had been murdered hanging out with mobsters. Pier considered herself wise in the ways of men, but this one puzzled her. He did not seem like a criminal, but still…“Yes, there is,” she said.
There was a sudden scream, and Robert whirled around.
“Dio! Dio! Sono venuta tre volte!” It was a woman’s voice, coming from the next room through the paper-thin walls.
“What’s that?” Robert’s heart was pounding.
Pier grinned. “She’s having fun. She said she just came for the third time.”
Robert heard the creaking of bed springs.
“Are you going to bed?” Pier stood there naked, unembarrassed, watching him.
“Sure.” Robert sat down on the bed.
“Aren’t you going to get undressed?”
“No.”
“Suit yourself.” Pier moved over to the bed and lay down beside Robert. “I hope you don’t snore,” Pier said.
“You can tell me in the morning.”
Robert had no intention of sleeping. He wanted to check the street during the night to make sure they did not come to the hotel. They would get around to these small, third-class hotels eventually, but it would take them time. They had too many other places to cover first. He lay there, feeling bone-tired, and closed his eyes for a moment to rest. He slept. He was back home, in his own bed, and he felt Susan’s warm body next to his. She’s back, he thought, happily. She’s come back to me. Baby, I’ve missed you so much.
Day Seventeen
Rome, Italy
Robert was awakened by the sun hitting his face. He sat up abruptly, looking around for an instant in alarm, disoriented. When he saw Pier, memory flooded back. He relaxed. Pier was at the mirror, brushing her hair.
“Buon giorno,” she said. “You do not snore.”
Robert looked at his watch. Nine o’clock. He had wasted precious hours.
“Do you want to make love now? You have already paid for it.”
“That’s all right,” Robert said.
Pier, naked and provocative, walked over to the bed. “Are you sure?”
I couldn’t if I wanted to, lady. “I’m sure.”
“Va bene.” She began to dress. She asked casually, “Who is Susan?”
The question caught him off guard. “Susan? What made you ask?”
“You talk in your sleep.”
He remembered his dream. Susan had come back to him. Maybe it was a sign. “She’s a friend.” She’s my wife. She’s going to get tired of Moneybags and return to me some day. If I’m still alive, that is.
Robert walked over to the window. He lifted the curtain and looked out. The street was crowded now with pedestrians and merchants opening up their shops. There were no signs of danger.
It was time to put his plan into motion. He turned to the girl. “Pier, how would you like to go on a little trip with me?”
She looked at him with suspicion. “A trip—where?”
“I have to go to Venice on business, and I hate traveling alone. Do you like Venice?”
“Yes…”
“Good. I’ll pay you for your time, and we’ll have a little holiday together.” He was staring out the window again. “I know a lovely hotel there. The Cipriani.” Years ago he and Susan had stayed at the Royal Danieli, but he had been back since, and it had become sadly run down, and the beds were impossible. The only thing that remained of the hotel’s former elegance was Luciano, at the reception desk.
“It will cost you a thousand dollars a day.” She was ready to settle for five hundred.