- 30 -
Donna took Ben and Francesca straight up to her magnificent room at the hotel. The girl was very quiet as her eyes took in the modern splendour. She sat on the bed and looked up at Ben as if waiting for a lead.
“Hadn’t you better get some sleep?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I could not sleep now.”
“You’ll feel better as soon as the shock has worn off,” said Donna. “I’ll go find my friend Marco and get him to fix you a room.” She looked purposefully at Ben. “I think you ought to tell this girl the facts. She’s gotta know what the real ball game is. It’s all got to come out sooner or later.” She turned back to the door. “See you as soon as I can make it.”
Ben saw that Francesca was looking up at him. “What does she mean?”
“Oh hell,” thought Ben, “Donna’s dropped me right in it.”
But instead he asked, “Do you know who might have done all that damage in Toni’s flat?”
“I have no idea. He told me that I was the only other person who knew about it. Just wait till he sees it.”
Ben sat down on the bed beside the girl. “Francesca, when did you last see Toni?”
“Let me see.” She put her hand to her forehead. “It must have been five - no - six days ago.”
“What did he say to you when he left?”
“Only that he was going to be away for a few days.
“He didn’t say where he was going?”
“No.”
“Did he say that he was going back to England?”
“Oh, no. He wasn’t returning to England.” Francesca was emphatic. “He always says goodbye properly when he is leaving Italy.”
“But he gave you no idea of what he was planning to do?”
“He would not say anything to me.” She plucked at his sleeve. “Why? What is the matter? Is he all right? What did that woman mean when she spoke to you just now?”
He spoke almost to himself. “What I don’t understand, is why they didn’t tell you anything when I wrote to them.”
“Ben!” She pulled him round to face her. “What are you saying? You mustn’t treat me like a child. Everyone treats me like a child. No one will tell me anything.”
“I suppose they didn’t know how to tell you.”
“It’s Toni, isn’t it? Something has happened to him. I have felt this for several days. Please, Ben. You must tell me the truth.”
“Francesca, there’s no gentle way to say this.” Ben tried to keep his voice as calm as possible. “Toni is dead. Alfredo should have told you before.”
He stopped, appalled by the look on her face. It suddenly looked like some haggard mask with the eyes staring at him, black and fathomless. It wasn’t a look of shock or sorrow. Her face was a picture of pure hatred.
“I knew it,” she whispered, hardly seeming to move her lips. “What happened to him?”
Ben swallowed. “I - I found him dead in our office in London. That was when I came home late on Tuesday night. I e-mailed Alfredo on Wednesday morning. But, Francesca - somehow the family knew about it before they got my e-mail.”
“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, they did. Alfredo could not look at me on Tuesday. Now I know why that is. It is because he knows who killed Toni. For the last week he has been keeping out of my way. It is because he was afraid I would trap him and get the truth out of him.”
She seemed to be talking to herself. Ben couldn’t understand why she was so unmoved. Why were there no tears? He had expected her to be overcome with emotion, to attack him, to blame him for what had happened. But he was not ready for this inhuman coldness. Ben almost wondered whether she had understood him fully.
“Francesca -,” he started.
“It is all right, Ben. I also believe I know who did this. And, when I am sure, I shall be revenged. I may only be a woman, but I know how to hate. I will see to it that those who have done this evil deed will pay for it.”
He was horrified to hear such words coming from the mouth of a young girl. “Francesca! You’re shocked. You don’t know what you’re saying.”
She ignored his comments. “What about you? Why did you come all this way to Italy - it was not just to tell me about what had happened to Toni.”
“Well - no. There was something else as well.”
“What was that?”
Ben watched her carefully. Now she sounded as though she was having a chat over afternoon tea. He didn’t like her change of mood at all. He felt as though he was sitting on the edge of a volcano which was about to erupt.
“Well -.” He tried to pick his words carefully. “Your family - the Cimbroni - they want to buy me out of the business and take it over themselves. I came to see Alfredo about it. I wanted to see if I could get him to change his mind.”
“Buy you out of the business?”
“Yes. That is the business which Toni and I have built up in London. You see, they now own his shares.”
“I see. But Toni would not have liked them to buy you out.” It sounded like a statement.
Ben looked at her sharply. “I don’t think so. That is what I told them. But I have not been able to talk to Alfredo.”
“It is no good to talk to Alfredo. He is like a baby in Sylvia’s hands.” Her contempt for her brother didn’t fail to show through her words.
“I thought that he would be in charge now that your father has died?”
“He is in charge of nothing,” said Francesca, her eyes alive again and sparkling dangerously. “He will never be in charge. It is Sylvia who is in charge. And behind her it is Mancino Vitelli who decides everything. It is the Vitelli who you must convince.”
“Who is this Mancino Vitelli?”
“He is the father of Sylvia and Dino – and once of Carlos. He thinks he will soon become my father-in-law. Then he will have all of us in his hands – except you, of course.” There was no mistaking the bitterness in her voice.
Ben was silent for a moment, digesting this latest information. It sounded as though there was more beneath the surface than he had previously realised. He didn’t like the sound of it at all. He ought to have nothing to do with it. But, like it or not, he was deeply involved. He could not turn back now.
“How do I get to see this Mancino Vitelli?” he asked.
“I will take you to see him. He will have to see me. He must tell me just what has happened. You will come with me and he will see us both together and answer both our questions.” Francesca’s body was arched forward. Her eyes were blazing with a quite incredible intensity. “Then, when he has told us the truth about what really happened - I will kill him.”
Ben’s mouth dropped open. He was lost for words. Was she serious? What on earth was she talking about?
She looked up and laughed in his face. “I have often thought about how I would do it. The Cimbroni must have their revenge. Somebody must kill him. And there is only me who is left to do it. I am not frightened. There is nothing that they can do to me now. They cannot take anything more away from me.”
Ben raised his hand to comfort her, but she sprang away from him, as wary as a stray cat.
“Francesca,” he said, “you are overwrought. You are shocked by what I have told you.” Indeed at any moment he expected her to break down in tears - for the shock to recede enough to let her grief break through.
“Do not try to change me, Ben. I am the only one left to do it. And he will not fear to let me near him. He will think I am only a woman. That will be his mistake.”
“You are tired, Francesca,” said Ben. “Why don’t you rest? Try and get some sleep. You’ll see things differently in the morning.”
To his surprise she nodded, suddenly compliant. “I am tired,” she admitted.
With a sigh of relief, Ben stood up. “Here you are. Lie on this bed for a while. I will carry you to the other room when Donna comes back.” He pulled back the covers as she stood up and kicked off her shoes. Then she lay down and he draped them over her.
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br /> “Ben, please,” she asked, “I do not wish to be alone just at this moment. I sometimes frighten myself when I am alone. Will you stay with me?”
He nodded and smiled. “OK. I’ll stay.”
“Right here in the bed?”
“If you like.” Obediently he took off his shoes and got in beside her, fully clothed.
She snuggled up to him like a tousle-headed child. “Will you put your arms round me? Toni used to put his arms round me to comfort me when I was upset.”
So he put his arms round her and she settled her head on his shoulder. Within a few minutes her breathing had settled into an even rhythm. But Ben could not find any comfort. His mind was turning over what she had told him about Sylvia’s father. If Francesca was right, it sounded as though that man was the key to all this. However he didn’t share her casual belief that they could just go to his house and demand to see him and negotiate with him – particularly if she was going to carry on with her declared intent of trying to kill him.
He was puzzled by Francesca and her strange variations in behaviour. At one time she seemed to be a proud, beautiful, self-possessed woman. The next moment she could be as wild as a tiger. Then suddenly she would become as small and vulnerable as an upset little girl. She was certainly a handful.
Donna returned a quarter of an hour later. Despite the fact that it was the middle of the night, she had succeeded in finding another room for the girl. But by now Francesca was in a deep, untroubled sleep.
Ben put his finger to his lips as Donna told him about her success.
“What shall we do?” she demanded.
“Shush,” he warned her.
“She’s nothing but a kid,” she whispered. “The room’s just down the corridor. You can easily carry her there.”
“I can’t move her now,” Ben murmured. “She’s only just gone off to sleep and she said she doesn’t want to be on her own.”
“What do you mean? Do I get kicked out of my own bed by some chit of a girl?” Donna was starting to get angry.
“Shush. You’ll wake her.”
“Don’t you shush me.”
“Hush, Donna. She’s very upset tonight.”
“Let me tell you, brother - I’m upset too.” Her voice was starting to rise, but a groan and a restless movement from Francesca made her lower it again. “Are you just going to lie there and let her cuddle up to you all night?”
“What else can I do?”
“Oh, hell,” she said. “I suppose I’ll have to take the other room. Tonight’s ruined anyway. This isn’t at all the way I’d planned it.”
She rustled round as she collected her things. Then she switched off the light and departed with a grumpy, “I’ll be back first thing.”
Ben peered down at the beautiful sleeping face on his chest. He couldn’t really see her expression in the first of the morning light which was starting to seep through the curtains, but he was nearly sure that a beatific smile had taken over the sleeping features.