To Love Again Part 24

That's not much of a life. Did you at least give Ewing a chance to tell you what happened, to find out if what you think is true?

I told you, it doesn't matter. And yes, I saw him once when I got back from Rome.

And what happened?

Nothing, I told him to stay away from Alessandro. I found out that while I was here Natasha had let him see the child. She sighed softly and smiled a bitter smile. I told him that if he came near us again, I'd call my lawyer and the police and have him arrested for molesting Alessandro something like that.

Are you crazy? What did he say?

He told me to get the h.e.l.l out of his car.

He was right. I'd have kicked you out. For G.o.d's sake, Isabella, what were you thinking of?

I don't know' . Myself ' Amadeo ' something. I told you, it's over. It wouldn't have worked out.

Not if that's the way you've been behaving. He poured himself another gla.s.s of wine.

Natasha sees him of course. They're old friends.

Did she tell him about the trial? Bernardo was looking at her strangely, but she only shrugged.

I don't know. Maybe. In any case it was in the papers again the day before I left New York. Page nine this time; we're finally shrinking in importance again. I'll tell you, I'll be d.a.m.n glad when the only place I see my name is in the fashion section.

That'll come. After this week it'll all be over. Now get some sleep. I'll pick you up in the morning. He kissed her cheek gently and left her sitting there, sipping the last of her wine.

Chapter TWENTY-EIGHT.

Va b+?ne? Bernardo looked at her worriedly as she stepped out of the car. She had worn a black dress today, but no black stockings this time. It was a long-sleeved black wool dress, with alligator shoes and matching handbag, and her hat was discreet and small. She wore only her pearls and the ring Bernardo had given her the last time she'd left Rome.

Are you all right, Isabella? he asked. She was so pale that for a moment he was afraid she would faint on the courthouse steps.

Va b+?ne. I'm fine.

He took her arm. In an instant the barrage began. Photographers, television cameras, microphones, madness. It was reminiscent of that whole ugly time. She clutched his hand tightly, and a moment later they were inside the courthouse, waiting in a tiny room adjoining the judge's chambers. He had made it available just for her.

They sat for what felt to Isabella like hours before a uniformed guard came in and beckoned to her.

Holding tightly to Bernardo, her legs feeling wooden, she followed him into the courtroom, averting her eyes from the long table where the defendants sat, trying not to look at them, not wanting to see. Bernardo could feel her trembling as she sat down.

The testimony was long and laborious: Amadeo's secretary, the doorman, and finally two San Gregorio employees who had seen the two men come in. The story about the car was explained, and Bernardo could see one of the men squirm. More testimony from the coroner, two minor officials, and then finally it was over; court would not reconvene after lunch. Due to the painful nature of the trial, and in consideration of Signore di San Gregorio's widow, the proceedings would be adjourned until the next morning.

The judge ordered the bailiffs to remove the accused. As they stood up, ready to be escorted away, Bernardo heard Isabella gasp.

They were ordinary men in plain clothing, men she had never seen, but suddenly they were there, before her, the men who had snuffed out Amadeo's life. Bernardo held her arm tightly. Isabella had turned whiter still.

It's all right, Isabella, it's all right, he said, feeling helpless to soothe her. She needed something more than even he could give her. Come on, let's go now.

Blindly she let herself be led. In a moment they were being mobbed again on the front steps.

Signora di San Gregorio, did you see them? ' How did they look ' Do you remember? ' Can you tell us? ' A hand s.n.a.t.c.hed off her hat. She was running and crying, protected by two guards and Bernardo, until at last they reached the car. She threw herself into his arms, sobbing all the way back to the house. He got her upstairs quickly and helped her to the couch.

Do you want me to call a doctor?

No ' no ' but don't leave me ' she began as the telephone rang. She sat bolt upright with a look of terror in her eyes. She couldn't go through it again, couldn't bear it. Tell them to stop putting calls through. But Bernardo had already answered it and was speaking in low tones. She could not hear what he was saying. Finally he looked at her, smiled, and nodded his head. And then, without explaining further, he handed her the phone and left the room.

Isabella? At first she didn't recognize the voice. Then her eyes grew wide.

Corbett? But it couldn't be.

But the voice answered, Yes, adding, and don't hang up on me. Or at least not just yet.

Where are you? Her face was expressionless; it sounded as though he were here with her, in the same room.

I'm downstairs, Isabella, but you don't have to see me. If you want, I'll go away.

But why? And why now of all times?

I came to steal the business. Remember me?

Yes, I remember you. I I owe you an apology ' for what I said to you in the car. She was smiling into the phone.

You don't owe me anything. Not an apology, not the business, not anything. Nothing but ten minutes of your time.

An idea occurred to her then, and she was astonished. Bernardo! Had he asked Corbett to come? Did you fly to Rome to see me, Corbett?

He nodded his head and answered her. Yes. I knew what you must be going through. I thought that maybe you needed a friend. Then, Isabella, may I come upstairs?

A moment later she opened the door for him. She did not speak. Her eyes were dark and tired and empty. Slowly she put out her hand.

h.e.l.lo, Corbett.

It was like the beginning. He shook her hand solemnly and followed her into the room.

Would you like a gla.s.s of wine?

She was smiling now as she looked at him, and it took everything he had not to take her in his arms. He shook his head and looked around the room. Is this your office?

No, it's an apartment we keep for important guests. And then she looked at him unhappily and sat down with her head bowed. Oh, Corbett, I wish I weren't here. He sat down next to her and watched her.

I'm sorry you have to go through this, but at least they caught them. At least now you won't wonder what happened to them and if they'll ever strike again.

I suppose so. But I thought I had put it all away.

He only shook his head. He didn't want to tell her that you never really can. You can't erase a memory. Or deny an irreparable loss. You could dull it, you could heal it, you could fill the void with something else. Isabella he paused for a moment may I be there with you tomorrow?

She looked at him, horrified. At the trial? He nodded. But why? Was he curious then? Was that it? Was he like all the others? Was that why he had come? She looked at him suspiciously, and he took her hand.

I want to be there with you. That's why I came.

This time she nodded, understanding, as her fingers tightened slowly in his grasp.

Chapter TWENTY-NINE.

The next morning she stepped out of the car with a guard ahead of and behind her, and with Corbett and Bernardo on either side. Together, they plowed through the mob, her head bowed, her face hidden by a black hat with a brim. Moments later they were in the courtroom and the judge had entered and called Alfredo Paccioli, the jeweler, to the stand.

And Signora di San Gregorio brought you her jewelry? All of it?

Yes, Paccioli murmured.

What did you give her in exchange for it? Did you give her anything? The attorney was pressing, and again Paccioli said yes.

I gave her all the cash I had in the office at the time. And I got another three hundred thousand dollars from merchants I know. I also promised to get her an equal amount the following week.

And what did she say?

Corbett felt Isabella stiffen next to him, and he turned slightly to watch her. Her face was so pale, it was almost white.

She said it wasn't enough, but she took it.

Did she tell you why she needed the money?

No. Paccioli paused, unable to go on. When he spoke again it was almost a whisper. But I suspected. She she ' looked ' ravaged ' broken ' frightened ' He had to stop then as tears washed his florid face. His eyes met Isabella's. She was crying too.

The judge called a recess.

The testimony continued agonizingly for another three days. At last, on the fifth morning, the judge looked at her regretfully and asked her to take the stand.

You are Isabella di San Gregorio?

I am. Her voice was a tremulous whisper, her eyes almost larger than her face.

Are you the widow of Amadeo di San Gregorio, who was abducted from his office on September seventeenth and murdered on The attorney checked the correct date. He supplied it, and Isabella nodded miserably.

I am. Yes.

Can you tell us, in orderly fashion, what happened on that day? The last time you saw him, what you did, what you heard?

Step by step she went through it: her arrival at the house that morning, the business they had discussed, Bernardo's warning, how she and Amadeo had been touched but had cast the warning aside. She looked briefly at Bernardo. There were tears in his eyes, and he looked away.

With anguish Corbett watched the proceedings, willing her to have the strength to go on. For days now he had watched her and listened, taken her back to San Gregorio each afternoon, and talked with her until night. But he had said nothing of an intimate nature, never touched her, except gently with his eyes. He had come to Rome as her friend, knowing that these days would be most painful, that in reliving it, at last she would be free. But knowing also that it might break her, that even if she survived it, she might want nothing from him. He had come anyway, he had been there, as he was there for her now.

And when did you realize that your husband was late?

At ' I don't know ' perhaps seven thirty. She told of being interrupted by Alessandro. And then, in agony, she explained further of calling Bernardo, of waiting, of suddenly being afraid. And then the phone call. She began to describe it, but she broke down and couldn't go on. She gasped for a moment, fighting for air and composure, but suddenly the tears were flowing from her eyes.

They they said they had ' my husband. It was a word strangled between a gasp and a scream.' that they would kill him ' and ' . they let me talk to him, and he said '

Bernardo looked at the judge unhappily, but he only nodded. It was best if she got it over with all at once. They had to go on.

And then what did you do?

Bernardo ' Signore Franco arrived. We talked. Later that night we called the police.

Why later? Had the kidnappers told you not to?

She took a deep breath and went on. Yes, later. But at first I was afraid that if I called the police, my accounts would be frozen and I wouldn't be able to come up with the money at all. And they were frozen, of course. She sounded bitter as she said it.

Is that why you tried to sell your jewelry?

She looked at Paccioli, seated in the back of the courtroom, and nodded. He was crying openly. Yes. I would have done anything ' anything' .

Corbett's jaw tightened, and he and Bernardo exchanged an anguished glance.

And then what happened? After you got the money? Did you deliver it to the kidnappers, although it was less than they had asked?

No. I was going to. I was going to tell them. It was Monday night, and they wanted the money by Tuesday. But' . She began to tremble again. ' but they called. ' It was ' it was. ' A look of horror crossed her face, and her eyes searched out Corbett and Bernardo. Non posso! I can't go on!

No one moved. The judge spoke to her gently and urged her to finish if she could. She waited a moment, sobbing, while the bailiff brought her some water. She took a small sip and went on.

It was in the papers that I had been to Alfredo. Someone told them. And as she said it she remembered the face of the girl. The kidnappers knew then that my accounts had been frozen. That we'd called the police. She sat very still and closed her eyes.

And what did they tell you the next time you spoke to them?

She whispered, with her eyes closed. That they'd kill him.

Was that all they said?

No. She opened her eyes again, as though seeing a vision, as though she herself were now very far away. The tears streamed down her face. She looked up at the ceiling. They said that I could' . Her voice was fading as she looked back again. ' say good-bye to Amadeo' . And ' I did. He told me ' he told me ' to be brave for a little while, that everything would be ' all right ' that he loved me' . I told him I loved him ' and then' .

She stared blindly into the courtroom.

And then they killed him. The next morning the police found him dead.

She was lifeless as she sat there, recalling the moment, the feeling, and the last sound of Amadeo's voice, which seemed to fade as her own voice died away. Silently she looked at the three men accused of his murder, and still crying, she shook her head. The judge quickly signaled to Bernardo. Her part in the trial was over. He wanted her removed.

Bernardo got quickly to his feet, having understood, and Corbett followed him and the attorney to the stand, where they reached out to Isabella, who looked at them, uncomprehending. They killed him ' they killed him ' Bernardo' . Her voice was a hideous wail in the courtroom ' He's dead!