Part 36 (2/2)
”Why?”
”It's important...”
”Roughly two hours by car. We pa.s.sed through it on the Autostrada.”
”And your father has a car. He drives?”
”Why?”
”Does he have a car?” Harry said again, harder and more directly. ”Does he drive?”
”Of course.”
”I want you to call him and ask him to come to Rome.”
Abruptly Elena felt fire shoot through her. She leaned back against the wall and crossed her arms defiantly in front of her.
”I cannot do that.”
”If he leaves now, Elena Elena,” Harry said, emphasizing her name, as if to silence her protest, ”he can be in Rome by nine. Nine-thirty at the latest. Tell him to pull up in front of the building and stay in the car. That when you see him, you'll come down and get in and he is to drive away immediately. No one will ever know you were here.”
Elena could feel the fire grow hotter, her indignation rise. How dare he? She had feelings and she had pride. And she was not about to call her father father, of all people, to have herself be picked up like some red-faced schoolgirl left abandoned in the big city the morning after.
”I am sorry, Mr. Addison Mr. Addison,” she said, bristling, ”but my duty is to care for Father Daniel. And I will stay with him until I am formally relieved of that duty.”
”That is very easy, Sister Sister Elena.” Harry glared at her. ”You are hereby formally, reliev-” Elena.” Harry glared at her. ”You are hereby formally, reliev-”
”By-my-mother-general!” The veins stood out in Elena's neck.
A shattering silence followed. The two staring at each other. Neither realizing this was their first lover's quarrel-and that one of the lovers had just drawn a deep line in the sand. Yet who would blink first was never answered.
CRAs.h.!.+.
Suddenly the kitchen door flew open, slamming hard off the wall behind it.
”Harry!-”
Danny came through the doorway fiercely. Thrumping the wheels of his wheelchair with both hands, his eyes wide with alarm, a cell phone in his lap.
”I can't reach Father Bardoni. I have three numbers for him. One's a cell phone he always has with him. I've tried them all! No answer!”
”Danny, take it easy.”
”Harry, he was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago! If he was on his way, he'd at least be picking up the cell!”
119.
HARRY TURNED THE CORNER ONTO VIA DEL Parione and started down the block. By his watch it was now seven-twenty-five, nearly an hour after Father Bardoni was to have met them at the apartment. As he walked, he tried the cell number again with the phone Adrianna had given him.
Still nothing.
Common sense told him that for one reason or another Father Bardoni had simply been delayed. It was no more complicated than that.
Ahead was number 17, Father Bardoni's building. Behind it, Danny had said, was an alley and, off it, an old wooden gate to the rear entrance of the building itself. To the left of that entrance, and under a potted red geranium, he'd find the key.
Turning down the alley, Harry walked twenty yards and then saw the gate. Opening it, he crossed a small gravel courtyard. The pot was where it was supposed to be. Under it was the key.
FATHER BARDONI'S FLAT, like the one they were staying in, was on the top floor, and Harry took the back stairs to it quickly. Outwardly, he was still thinking nothing unusual had happened and that there was a simple explanation for Father Bardoni's tardiness. But inwardly, he felt the same as Danny had when he'd burst through the kitchen door.
Dread.
Then Harry was at the top of the stairs and turning down a narrow hallway, stopping as he reached Father Bardoni's door. Taking a breath, he put the key in the lock and started to turn it. It wasn't necessary. The door was unlocked, and swung open.
”Father-?”
There was no reply.
”Father Bardoni-” Harry stepped into a darkened hallway. In front of him was a small living room. Like the one in Danny's apartment, little more than utilitarian.
”Father-?”
Still nothing.
To his right was a narrow hallway. There was a door halfway down and one at the end. Both were closed. Taking a breath, he put his hand on the k.n.o.b to the first door and turned it.
”Father?”
The door swung open to a bedroom. It was little and cramped, with a small window at the back. The bed was made. A phone was on a small table beside it. That was all.
Turning, Harry started out, then he saw a cell phone on the floor next to the bed. The phone Father Bardoni ”always has with him”?
Suddenly Harry was aware of his own presence. Something felt very wrong, as if he didn't belong there. Stepping out of the room, he turned ever so slowly to the other door. What was there? Everything in him told him to leave right then. Walk away. Do anything but open that door.
But he couldn't.
”Father Bardoni,” he said again.
Silence.
Reaching for his handkerchief, he put it around the k.n.o.b.
”Father Bardoni,” he said loud enough to be heard on the far side of the door.
No reply.
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