Blind Alley - Iris Johansen [63]
“She's right, isn't she? Much as we hate it, it's an opportunity.”
He nodded as he headed for the fax machine. “Yes, dammit, she's right.”
The lamplight made the pale green vesuvianite flash and sparkle like the cold edge of a knife. Aldo liked knives, Jane thought.
Don't look at it. Don't think about what he did with those knives.
She turned out the light and tucked her hand beneath the covers. It didn't help. She could still see it burning, glittering in her mind's eye.
Then accept it. She'd made the decision and she had to live with it. She took her hand from beneath the covers and let it lie on top of the counterpane. Aldo had handled this ring. He'd touched it and looked at the glowing stone and thought about how it would disturb her. She could almost see him smiling and fondling it.
Well, it's mine now. And I won't let it be anything to me that I don't want it to be. So screw you, Aldo.
She closed her eyes and willed herself to go to sleep. She would not dream of Cira and she would not dream of Aldo. Close them out, rest, and gain strength and determination.
No, don't sleep. Think. Go over everything she knew about Aldo and find a way to bring him down. She was tired of hiding and letting him think he could terrorize her. The situation had to change. She had to make a move.
Sorry, Eve. . . .
The next morning Bartlett, as usual, was standing in front of the cottage. He smiled gently as Jane walked toward him. “Good morning. I hear there was a little disturbance with the mail last night.”
“A little. Where's Trevor?”
“With Matt Singer double-checking security. He should be here soon. You can reach him by cell phone if it's important.”
She shook her head. “I want to talk to him face-to-face.”
“I see. Well, I'll be glad of your company while you're waiting.” His gaze went to her hand and his smile faded. “Trevor is right, you really shouldn't be wearing that.”
“Trevor didn't try to stop me.”
“I know. He said it was up to you. It didn't surprise me. Though I was disappointed.”
“Why?”
“I like him. But I'd like him more if he'd admit that he isn't as hard as he pretends.”
“I don't believe there's much pretense about it.”
“That's because he's extremely good at it.”
“Like the time he was pretending to be from Scotland Yard investigating your wife's death? Evidently he didn't fool you.”
He smiled. “Almost. But I knew he wasn't a policeman when I followed him to Claridge's. Policemen don't usually have the funds for elite accommodations.”
“But smugglers and con men do?”
“Exactly. And after I became acquainted with Trevor I realized my best chance of getting Ellen's killer was with him. He had dedication.” He added gravely, “Dedication is important.”
“So is honesty. How many times has he lied to you?”
“Only the one time. He is honest in his own way.”
She shook her head. “I don't understand that kind of honesty. It's either one way or the other.”
“Black or white? I'm afraid Trevor is definitely in the gray areas. But that's better than being black, isn't it? A man of his capabilities could be a superb villain. It must be a great temptation to him.”
“He told me how much he liked money.”
He nodded. “So he says.”
“You don't believe him?”
“Oh, I believe he likes it. He grew up poor and had to fight his way. But there are easier ways to acquire money when you're as brilliant as Trevor. He doesn't have to walk a tightrope. I think he got a taste of it when he was a kid and over the years it's become an addiction.”
“Is that why he's after Aldo? Not the gold, just the thrill of the chase?”
“No, I think it's a little more personal than that. Did he tell you Pietro Tatligno was a mercenary with him in Colombia?”
Her eyes widened. “No, he just said he was an antiquities scholar.”
“And a very brilliant one, but he sowed a few wild oats before he gave up the military life and went back to school. Evidently he and Trevor became very good friends and it was Trevor who brought him to Guido Manza.”
“You're saying he's after Aldo because