Chapter 22
Piazza di Santa Maria Maggiore
MARCO STARED at his uneaten breakfast and found himself yearning for Laura's company. But he was painfully aware that he was a priest, so he could never love her. Not in the way he'd loved Anna. Deep love and sex were inseparable in his experience -- and the conflict was already filling him with so much self-condemnation that he had only told Father Josef about Laura in the vaguest terms.
The beautiful release of emotions through sex would never be his again, but he could never forget the joys of marriage to Anna. It seemed impossible there could be a connection between Laura and the neo-Nazis. The danger -- if there was any danger -- was more likely to lie within the Vatican rather than with this freelance journalist.
But why had Laura decided to come round in the first place, pervading his apartment with Anna's perfume? Desire could be very destructive. It might be better if he refused to see her again. No, that would be an absurd and unnecessary move. Anyway, he'd already seen one of his college friends and borrowed a cheap metal detector and a small spade. He needed Laura's car to get him to Monte Sisto, but he didn't want to seem too keen and give her the wrong ideas.
His cell phone rang at nine o'clock just as he was wondering whether to phone Laura Rossetti. It was Laura and she sounded agitated.
"Have you got that metal detector yet, Marco? I want to go to Monte Sisto. My friends don't want me with them today, and they say I can't even leave Rome."
"Friends?" he queried.
"Bruno and Riccardo. They've told me to stay in the city, but that's crazy. They're up to something, Marco."
"You're not making sense," he said gently.
"I want to take you to Monte Sisto, so we can dig up all the graves."
"Not all of them," he protested, laughing.
"Okay, okay, I don't mind what you do as long as you bring a spade. That relic belonged to my father, not Bruno's."
He thought fast. Laura obviously wanted his company, and the neo-Nazis were never going to make contact after all this time. "I've got everything ready. When are you coming for me?"
"I'm coming straight over," said Laura excitedly.
He smiled to himself. "I'll be ready. I'll wait outside. I'm a priest. The custode here will be suspicious if she sees me getting a female visitor too often!"
LESS THAN HALFWAY to Monte Sisto, Laura stopped the car on an open patch of ground. Marco looked at her inquiringly.
"It's a good place to wait," she said rather distantly.
"Wait for what? I thought we were going to dig for treasure." He reached into the back and tapped the stem of the detector. "I've got a feeling we're going to get lucky with this. I've been reading a book about treasure hunting. You have to move the search head slowly and..."
Laura wasn't listening. "Do you like it here, Marco, away from the city?"
He'd already upset her once before, so he'd pretend to be enjoying himself. "It's wonderful!"
Laura seemed to be jumping around with her thoughts like a pigeon trying to retrieve a piece of bread from a hot metal roof. "I'm not sure you mean it," she responded, clearly lost in some sort of private reverie. She got out of the car and breathed in deeply. After a few minutes she opened the map and spread it on the car roof but only glanced at it. She stood as though listening for something.
"Are you waiting?" he asked. Laura seemed to have a plan, seemed to be preoccupied.
"Waiting?" She laughed as if the idea were preposterous. "Of course I'm not. Come on, there's a village just down the road. We'll have a coffee there. I just love the countryside in the summer. It's marvelous."
"Marvelous." He tried to sound wholehearted, but felt uncomfortable, threatened even. Something unpleasant seemed to be in the air.
Laura now drove slowly, and the aircon struggled to keep them cool. He found her unpredictable. He was trying not to be distrustful of her actions; all the same he should have told someone where he was going -- if only so that they would know where to look for his body.
Laura tucked her silver Alfa away in the shade of some trees in a small village carved into the side of the hill. The view from the edge of the piazza was stupendous, a genuine bella vista. Down below, small tracks wormed their way through silver olive groves and yellow fields. Rolling brown earth and gray hills faded into the heat. It was the middle of the day and already the locals were slowing down in preparation for their siesta.
The bar was open. They sat in the shade of a large plane tree on white plastic seats around a white plastic table. Nothing exotic, but at least it all looked clean. If Laura had been expecting better she gave no sign of it. He sipped his caffè latte and tried unsuccessfully to relax. He noticed that Laura left her cup untouched, her eyes fixed on the road. The bright red lipstick she had worn on her first visit had never reappeared. The current deep pink was much more to his liking.
Perhaps life was all right. Free from worry. Well, reasonably free. He was glad Laura had asked him out. This might not be exactly what Father Josef had in mind, but there was always the chance of coming up with something of value at the monastery. Nevertheless, he felt pangs of guilt about his friendship, his relationship with Laura.
Relationship? He shook his head. It was hardly an affair, and Father Josef had given his blessing for contacts to be made. So ... he was making contact.
He became aware that a hush had descended on the piazza. Children were shouting further down the road where they played with their bikes, but no other sounds disturbed the midday peace. A red Audi station wagon sporting German license plates swept through the village leaving a swirl of dust. The children carried on with their games, and only the older inhabitants took any notice. Marco guessed that here, as well as in many other parts of Italy, Germans were still remembered as the occupiers and resented accordingly, especially in remote rural areas like this. Still there was hurt, still hatred.
Laura rummaged in her purse and dug out her cell phone. "I'm just going inside."
Laura took her time returning. She seemed slightly more at peace now and certainly more patient. They resumed their journey at a leisurely pace.
"There's no hurry to get to the monastery," she explained. "I didn't tell you before, but Bruno Bastiani has gone there with Riccardo Fermi to sort out a problem. I want to give them time to get away before we start digging."
Marco slammed his hand down on the dashboard. "Hold it a minute. Are you playing some sort of game with me?"
Laura looked surprised. "What do you mean?"
"Your two friends are at Monte Sisto sorting out a problem, but you don't want them to know we're going there? What are they doing -- digging up the relic before we can get to it?"
"I was going to tell you something ... but not now." She shrugged. "Bruno and Riccardo are doing their thing, and we're doing ours. They're not digging, and they'll be gone by the time we get there. Stop worrying."
Marco shook his head. He couldn't help worrying. "I hope you know what you're doing."