Bloody Passage - Jack Higgins [32]
Barzini shrugged, took the gun out of the holster, leaned inside the wheelhouse and dropped it on the chart table. Langley turned to me. "What about you?"
I raised my hands without a word. He searched me anyway, completely missing a favorite place for a concealed weapon in expert opinion--the small of the back tucked into the pants under the shirt. Not that I'd anything there this time as it happened, but it was a serious flaw and certainly gave me pause for thought where Langley was concerned.
He slipped back, apparently satisfied. "All right, old stick, let's go."
Gatano stayed on the jetty, sitting on a bollard, the Sterling across his knees. Barzini and I got into the rear of the Landrover and Langley took the wheel.
"How's my sister?" I asked him as we drove away.
"Fine, old stick." He smiled with what appeared to be genuine warmth. "Lovely girl. Practices the piano most of the day. Perfectly happy. And Simone's been spending some time with her."
"Plus Frau Kubel and her Doberman?" I said. "How nice. All we need to make up the party is Charles Lutwidge Dodgson and we're all set for an idyllic afternoon on the river."
"Dodgson?" Barzini looked puzzled. "Who in the hell is this Dodgson?"
"Better known as Lewis Carroll. Alice in Wonderland and all that," Langley said. "Not to worry. Our friend's feeling a little pensive this morning, that's all."
He braked to a halt in the courtyard; we got out and started up through the garden to the high terrace. Stavrou was standing at the wall peering down into the bay. For a moment there was a fugue in time and I was conscious of an irrational coldness. It was as if nothing had happened--as if it were still that first day when they'd brought me up from the Hole. The table laid for lunch, the bottles of Zibibbo in the bucket, the waiter at the ready, Moro and Bonetti in the same fisherman jerseys standing stolidly side by side, arms folded.
Stavrou swung around and looked at us. "So this is Mr. Barzini?" he said. "A well-found ship, sir. I congratulate you."
He lurched forward on his two sticks and the waiter eased him into the chair then poured him a glass of wine. He sampled some with a sigh of content and looked up at me.
"Well, sir, and how does it go?"
"I want to see my sister," I said. "Before anything else."
He nodded to Langley without the slightest hesitation. "All right, Justin. Five minutes."
Langley moved through the archway into the garden beyond and I went after him. This time there was no music playing, but I could hear laughter and a dog barked.
We paused by a small wall and looked down into a sunken garden. Hannah was seated on the ground on a rug, Simone beside her. She was throwing a rubber ball for the Doberman, who chased it eagerly and brought it back to her each time. Frau Kubel sat on a stone bench, knitting.
"Strange how that dog has taken to her," Langley said. "I just can't understand it."
Simone glanced up and saw us. The smile left her face and she stood. I heard Hannah quite distinctly ask her what was wrong.
Langley tugged at my sleeve. "All right, old stick. Better get back now. We don't want to upset him, do we?"
There didn't seem much I could say to that so I turned and led the way back to the high terrace where we found Stavrou and Barzini with their heads together over a British Admiralty chart for the Libyan coastline, Cap Bon to Tobruk.
Stavrou looked up. "Ah, there you are. Now you can tell me all about it."
"You got the permit from the Libyan Embassy for archaeological diving?" I asked.
Langley produced a large buff envelope from which he took out an imposing document with no less than four wax seals on it.
"This cost money," he said. "So watch it."
I leaned over the chart. "If we leave this evening we can be in Gela the same time on Thursday. All I need then is Zingari. If he lets us down we're finished."
"He won't," Stavrou said. "I'm paying him too much, but tell me everything from the beginning."
"All right. We sail into Gela posing as underwater