The Ghosts of N-Space - Barry Letts [18]
‘Not at home. An accepted fiction in polite society. He is not at home to you, sir.’
He was answered by a growl of anger and a slight twitch of the gloved hand.
‘Thank you, Umberto, that will be all.’
‘Si, signore.’ The servant accepted his dismissal with a relieved nod and backed warily out of sight. The two men waited in silence, their eyes locked together, until he had gone.
62
‘I have to tell you, Mr Vilmio, that neither you nor your propositions are welcome. The island of San Stefano Minore is not for sale and there’s an end of it.’
The black brows were lowered even more. ‘You’re wrong, Mr Lethbridge-Stewart. This is only the beginning. I want this island, this castle; and I’m used to getting what I want. Whatever it takes. You might say that persuasion is my speciality; and I’m good at my job.’
The Brigadier still had not moved. ‘There’s no more to be said. Good day, Mr Vilmio.’
The battered face flushed a darker shade of tan. ‘I’m not one of your goddam servants. You British seem to think you still own the earth. Listen to me, feller. The time will come when your uncle will be on his knees, begging me to allow him to sell me the place.’
Now the Brigadier did move. He crossed to within a couple of feet of the seething Max Vilmio. His face was stem.
‘Yes, I am British, a British officer,’ he said. ‘What’s more, I happen to be a representative of the United Nations.
Even if I weren’t involved personally, I should feel it my duty on both counts to oppose the threats of scum like you.’
For a moment it seemed as if he had gone too far, but then the big man turned and walked away.
63
The Brigadier watched him until he had crossed the bailey, passed through the main gate and turned the corner by the orange grove before he gently closed the door and allowed himself to feel the fear.
Sarah hardly seemed to welcome Jeremy’s offer of help, when he arrived in the dusty library bitterly complaining that the Doctor had sent him away ‘with a flea in his ear, just for dropping an amplifier thingy when it was hardly his fault there were wires all over the place, now was it?’
She looked up from the heavy leather-covered book she was studying. ‘I’ve never been able to work out what fleas have got to do with ears,’ she said vaguely, and returned to her book. Jeremy wandered across and peered over her shoulder. Solid Latin. What was the point of having a book in Latin?
‘What’s the point of having a book all in Latin?’ he said.
‘You’re as bad as Alice,’ said Sarah, ‘“What’s the use of a book without pictures and conversations?” It’s very interesting, as a matter of fact. A medieval “Lives of the Princes of Calabria”. Not much help, though.’
‘You mean you can understand it?’
‘Enough. Languages were my thing.’
64
‘Well, you’ve certainly been jabbering away to the jolly old wopperoos for the last few days as if you were a senorita yourself.’
‘The word is signorina,’ she said, ‘and I suggest you find something useful to do instead of making racist remarks.’
Back on the elder sister kick, was she? She was no fun at all when she got onto that. He turned away and surveyed the shelves which covered the walls from floor to ceiling, stacked solid, and the books for which there was no room piled on the floor. There must have been thousands of books.
‘Alice who?’ he said.
But Sarah had turned to the next book in her pile and was already immersed. Jeremy climbed on to the bottom step of the mahogany stepladder fitted with wheels (the only way to reach the highest shelves) and leaned on the little platform at the top.
‘What are we supposed to be doing, anyway?’
‘Mm? Hey! Listen to this. “and it is said that in the Castello di San Stefano Minore” – that’s us – “…the apparition of a young virgin…” – no, “maiden” is probably more like it – “…a young maiden can be seen walking the –
the ramparts”, mourning her lost love.” That must be our ghost!’
65
‘Does it say anything about her topping herself?’
‘Er, no. That