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"Thelads."
"Whataboutthem?"
"Theireyes."Thesameeruptingforce.
"Ifyourodeatthebacktheywouldn'tseeyou,"Isaid.
"I'dthinkoftheireyes."
Iglancedatherverytroubledface.Shewastakingmeoutofmydepth,I thought.Sheneededprofessionalhelp,notmyamateurcommonsense.
"Whytheireyes?"Isaid.
"Eyes..."Shespokeloudly,asifthewordsthemselvesdemandedviolence."They watchedme.Iknewtheydid.WhenIwasasleep.Theycameinandwatched."
SheturnedsuddenlytowardstheLandRoveranddidactuallykickthetire.
"Theycamein.Iknowtheydid.Ihate...Ihate...Ican'tbear...theireyes."
Istretchedout,putmyarmsroundherandpulledheragainstmychest.
"Alessia...Alessia...Itdoesn'tmatter.Whatiftheydid?"
"Ifeel...filthy...dirty."
"Akindofrape?"Isaid.
"Yes."
"Butnot...?"
Sheshookherheadsilentlyandconclusively.
"Howdoyouknowtheycamein?"Isaid.
"Thezip,"shesaid."ItoldyouIkneweveryst.i.tchofthetent...Iknewhow manyteethinthezip.Andsomedays,itwouldopenhigherthanothers.They undidthezip...andcamein...andfasteneditatadifferentlevel...sixorseven teethhigher,tenlower...Idreadedit."
Istoodholdingher,notknowingwhattosay.
"Itrynottocare,"shesaid."ButIdream..."Shestoppedforawhile,then said,"Idreamabouteyes."
Irubbedoneofmyhandsoverherback,tryingtocomfort."Tellmewhatelse,"
Isaid."Whatelseisunbearable?"
Shestoodquietforsolongwithhernoseagainstmychestthat.i.thoughtthere mightbenothing,butfinally,withahardsortofcoldness,shesaid,"Iwanted himtolikeme.Iwantedtopleasehim.ItoldPapaandPucinellithathisvoice wascold...b.u.t.thatwas...atthebeginning.Whenhecameeachtimewiththe microphone,tomakethetapes,Iwas...ingratiating."Shepaused."I...loathe..
myself.Iam...hateful...anddreadfully...unbearably...ashamed."
Shestoppedtalkingandsimplystoodthere,andafterawhileIsaid,"Very oftenpeoplewh.o.a.rekidnappedgrowtoliketheirkidnappers.Itisn'teven unusual.It'sasifanormalhumanbeingcan'tlivewithoutsomesortof friendlycontact.Inordinarycriminalprisons,theprisonersandwardersgrow intodefinitelyfriendlyrelationships.Whenalotofhostagesaretaken,some ofthemalwaysmakefriendswithoneormoreoftheterroristsholdingthem.
Hostagessometimesbegthepolicewh.o.a.rerescuingthemnottoharmtheir kidnappers.Youmustn't,youshouldn't,blameyourselffortryingtomakethe manwiththemicrophonelikeyou.It'snormal.Usual.And...howdidherespond?"
Sheswallowed."Hecalledme...deargirl."
"Deargirl,"Isaidmyself,meaningit."Don'tfeelguilty.Youarenormal.
Everyonetriestobefriendtheirkidnapperstosomeextent,andit'sbetterthat theyshould."
"Why?"Thewordwasm.u.f.fled,butpa.s.sionate.
"Becauseantagonismbegetsantagonism.Akidnappedpersonwhocanmakethe kidnapperslikeherismuchsafer.They'llbelesslikelytoharmher...andmore careful,forherownsake,nottoletherseetheirfaces.Theywouldn'twantto killsomeonethey'dgrowntolike."
Sheshivered.
"Andasforcomingintoseeyouwhenyouwereasleep...maybetheylookedonyou withfriendship...maybetheywantedtobesureyouwereallright,asthey couldn'tseeyouwhenyouwereawake."
Iwasn'tsurewhetherIbelievedthatlastbitmyself,but.i.twasatleast possible:andtherestwasalltrue.
"Theladsarenotthekidnappers,"Isaid.
"No,ofcoursenot."
"Justothermen."
Shenoddedhersmotheredhead.
"It'snotthelads'eyesyoudreamabout."
"No."Shesigheddeeply.
"Don'tridewiththestringuntilyoufeelO.K.about.i.t.Popsywillarrangea horseforyouupontheDowns."Ipaused."Don'tworryiftomorrowyoustill feelchurnedup.Knowingthereasonforfeelingsdoesn'tnecessarilystopthem comingback."
Shestoodquietforawhileandthendisconnectedherselfslowlyfrommy embrace,andwithoutlookingatmyfacesaid,"Idon'tknowwhereI'dbewithout you.Inthenut-house,forsure."
"Oneday,"Isaidmildly,"I'llcometotheDerbyandcheeryouhome."
ShesmiledandclimbedintotheLandRover,butinsteadofpointingitsnose homewardsIdroveonoverthehilltotheschoolingground.
"Whereareyougoing?"shesaid.
"Nowhere.Justhere."Istoppedtheengineandputonthebrakes.Theflightsof hurdlesandfenceslayneatanddesertedonthegra.s.syslope,andImadenomove togetoutofthecar.
"I'vebeentalkingtoPucinelli,"Isaid.
"Oh."
"He'sfoundthesecondplace,whereyouwerekeptthoselastfewdays."
"Oh."Asmallvoice,butnotpanic-stricken.
"DoestheHotelVistaclarameananythingtoyou?"
Shefrowned,thought,andshookherhead.
"It'supinthemountains,"Isaid."AbovetheplacecalledViralto,thatyou toldmeabout.Pucinellifoundthegreententthere,folded,notsetup,ina loftoveradisusedstableyard."
"Stables?"Shewa.s.surprised.
"Mm."
Shewrinkledhernose."Therewasnosmellofhorses."
"They'vebeengonefiveyears,"Isaid."Butyousaidyoucouldsmellbread.The hotelmakesitsown,inthekitchens.Theonlythingis..."Ipaused"...whyjust bread?Whynotallcookingsmells?"
Shelookedforwardthroughthewindscreentothepeacefulrollingterrainand breatheddeeplyofthesweetfreshair,andcalmly,withoutstrainortears, explained.
"AtnightwhenIhadeatenthemealoneofthemwouldcomeandtellmetoput thedishandthebucketoutthroughthezip.Icouldneverhearthemcoming becauseofthemusic.Ionlyknewtheyweretherewhentheyspoke."Shepaused.
"Anyway,inthemorningwhenIwoketheywouldcomeandtellmetotakethe bucketinagain...andatthatpoint.i.twouldbecleanandempty."Shestopped again."ItwasthenthatIcouldsmellthebread,thoselastfewdays.Early...
Whenthebucketwasempty."Shefellsilentandthenturnedherheadtolookat me,seekingmyreaction.
"Prettymiserableforyou,"Isaid.
"Mm."Shehalf-smiled."It'sincredible...butIgotusedtoit.Onewouldn't thinkonecould.But.i.twasone'sownsmell,afterall...andafterthefirstfew daysIhardlynoticedit."Shepausedagain."ThosefirstdaysIthoughtI'dgo mad.Notjustfromanxietyandguiltandfury...butfromboredom.Hourafterhour ofnothingb.u.t.thatd.a.m.nedmusic...noonetotalkto,nothingtosee...Itried exercises,butdayafterdayIgrewlessfitandmoredopey,andaftermaybetwo orthreeweeksIjuststopped.Thedaysseemedtorunintoeachother,then.I justlayonthefoammattressandletthemusicwashinandout,andIthought aboutthingsthathadhappenedinmylife,b.u.t.theyseemedfarawayandhardly real.Realitywasthebucketandpastaandapolystyrenecupofwatertwicea day...andhopingthatthemanwiththemicrophonewouldthinkIwasbehaving well...andlikeme."
"Mm,"Isaid."Helikedyou."
"Whydoyouthinkso?"sheasked,andIsawthatcuriouslysheseemedgladat theidea,thatshestillwantedherkidnappertoapproveofher,eventhoughshe wasfree.
"Ithink,"Isaid,"thatifyouandhehadfelthateforeachotherhewouldn't haveriskedthesecondransom.Hewouldhavebeenverymuchinclinedtocuthis losses.I'dguesshecouldn'tfacethethoughtofkillingyou...becauseheliked you."Isawthedeepsmileinhereyesanddecidedtostraightenthingsupin herperspective.Nogoodwouldcomeofherfallinginlovewithhercaptorin fantasyorinretrospect."Mindyou,"Isaid,"hegaveyourfatheranappalling timeandstolenearlyamillionpoundsfromyourfamily.WemaythankG.o.dhe likedyou,but.i.tdoesn'tmakehimanangel."
"Oh..."Shemadeafrustrated,veryItaliangesturewithherhands."Whyareyou alwaysso...sosensible?"
"Scottishancestors,"Isaid."Thedoursort,notthefire-brands.Theyseemto takeoverandspoilthefunwhenthequarterofmethat'sSpanishachesfor flamenco."
Sheputherheadononeside,halflaughing."That'sthemostI'veeverheard yousayaboutyourself."
"Stickaround,"Isaid.
"Idon'tsupposeyou'llbelieveit,"shesaid,sighingdeeplyandstretchingher limbstorelaxthem,"butIamafterallbeginningtofeelfairlysane."
Chapternine.
JULYCREPTOUTinadrizzleandAugustsweptinwithastorminaweekoflittle activityintheLondonofficebutagooddealinItaly.
Pucinellitelephonedtwicetoreportnoprogressandathirdtime,ecstatically, tosaythatCenci'sofferofarewardhadborneresults.Theoffer,alongwith thekidnappers'pictures,hadbeenpostedineverypossiblepublicplace throughoutBolognaandthewholeprovincearound;andananonymouswomanhad telephonedtoPaoloCencihimselftosaysheknewwhereapartoftheransom couldbefound.
"SignorCencisaidshesoundedspiteful.Awomanscorned.Shetoldhimitwould serve'him'righttolosehismoney.Shewouldn'tsaywho'he'was.Inanycase, tomorrowSignorCenciandIgotowhereshesaysthemoneycanbefound,andif sheisright,SignorCenciwillpostarewardtoher.Theaddresstosendthe rewardisasmallhotel,nothighcla.s.s.Perhapswewillbeabletofindthe womanandquestionher."
Onthefollowingeveninghesoundedmoremoderatelyelated.
"Itwastruewefoundsomeofthemoney,"hesaid."Butunfortunatelynotvery much,whenyouthinkofthewholeamount."
"Howmuch?"Iasked.
"Fiftymillionlire."
"That's...er..."Ididrapidsums,"nearlytwenty-fivethousandpounds.Hm...The lootof.a.gangmember,notaprinc.i.p.al,wouldn'tyousay?"
"Iagree."
"Wheredidyoufindit?"Iasked.
"Inaluggagelockerattherailwaystation.ThewomantoldSignorCencithe numberofthelocker,butwehadnokey.Wehadaspecialisttoopenthelock forus."
"Sowhoeverleftthemoneythinksit'sstillthere?"
"Yes.Itisindeedstillthere,butwehavehadthelockaltered.Ifanyone triestoopenit,hewillhavetoaskforanotherkey.Thenwecatchhim.We've setagoodtrap.Themoneyisinasofttravelbag,withazip.Thenumberson thenotesmatchthephotographs.Thereisnodoubt.i.tispartoftheransom.
SignorCenciha.s.sentarewardoffivemillionlireandwewilltrytocatchthe womanwhenshecollectsit.Heisdisappointed,though,asIam,thatwedidn't findmore."
"Betterthannothing,"Isaid."Tellmehowyougeton."
Thereweretwousualwaystodealwith"hot"money,ofwhichthesimplestwasto parkthelootsomewheresafeuntilthefiercestphaseofinvestigationwasover.
Crooksestimatedthesafetymarginvariouslyfromamonthtoseveralyears,and werethenfairlycarefultospendthemoneyfarfromhome,usuallyonsomething whichcouldinstantlyberesold.
Thesecond,moresophisticatedmethod,mostusedforlargeamounts,wastosell thehotmoneytoasortoffence,aprofessionalwhowouldbuyitforabouttwo thirdsofitsfacevalue,makinghisprofitbyfloatingitinbatchesontothe unsuspectingpublicviatheoperatorsofcasinos,markets,fairgrounds, racecoursesoranywhereelsewherelargeamountsofcashchangedhandsquickly.
Bythetimethehotmoneypercolatedbacktofar-flungbanksthesourceofit couldn'tbetraced.
SomeofPaoloCenci'smillionquidcouldhavebeenloppedbyathirdinsuch laundering,somecouldhavebeensplitbetweenanunknownnumberofgang members,andsomecouldhavebeenspentinadvanceonoutgoings,suchasrenting thesuburbanhouse.Theexpensesofasuccessfulkidnappingwerehigh,the ransomneverwhollyprofit.Allthesame,despiteitsrisks,itwasthefastest waytoafortuneyetdevised,andinItalyparticularlythechancesofbeing detectedandcaughtwereapproximatelyfivepercent.Inacountrywherenowoman couldwalkinthestreetsofRomewithahandbagoverherarmforfearofhaving itrazoredoffbythievesonmotorcycles,kidnappingwasregardedasafactof life,likeulcers.
Pucinellitelephonedtwodayslaterinagoodmoodtoreportthatthewomanwho hadcollectedtherewardhadbeenfollowedhomewithoutchallengeandhadproved tobethewifeofamanwhohadservedtwotermsinjailforraidsonliquor stores.Neighborssaidthemanwasknownforchasinggirls,hiswife hot-bloodedlyjealous.Pucinellithoughtthatanarrestandsearchofthemanon suspicionwouldpresentnoproblems,andthenexteveningreportedthatthe searchhadrevealedtheluggagelockerticketintheman'swallet.Theman, identifiedasGiovanniSanto,wasnowinacellandpouringoutinformationlike lavafromavolcano.
"Heisstupid,"Pucinellisaiddisparagingly."We'vetoldhimhewillspendhis wholelifeinjailifhedoesn'tcooperate,andhe'ss.h.i.tscared.Hehastoldus thenamesofallthekidnappers.Thereweresevenofthemaltogether.Twowe alreadyhave,ofcourse,andnowSanto.Atthisminutewehavemenpickingup threeothers."
"AndGiuseppe?"Iasked,ashestopped.
"Giuseppe,"hesaidreluctantly,"isnotoneofthem.Giuseppeistheseventh.
