Turning, he took two long, slow steps towards Lessi, his hands outspread in a gesture of appeal.
'Look, can't we just.. ‘
Lessi instantly stepped backwards, so as to maintain the distance between them. He was just starting to say something when Gemma kicked him viciously in the back of the knees. A shot went off, wide to the right, and then Zen sprang forward as Lessi crumpled, kicking him hard in the groin and following it up with a blow to the man's chin. He grabbed the hand holding the pistol, swung Lessi around and fell heavily on top of him.
For a moment Lessi lay limp on the floor, groaning. Zen raised his weight slightly off the man's body and went for the pistol. Instantly Lessi swirled up and around; In desperation, Zen grabbed a handful of the scattered roses and rasped the thorny stems across his opponent's face. Lessi screamed and instinctively brought up his hands to cover his eyes. Zen sank his teeth into the hand holding the gun, prised it loose by the barrel, and hit the other man again and again over the head with short, rapid blows, drawing blood from the scalp.
Lessi groaned and collapsed, murmuring something Zen didn't understand. When he was finally still, Zen transferred the butt of the pistol to his hand, crossed himself rapidly, stuck the barrel into the base of Lessi's skull and fired three times.
A long time seemed to pass. Finally Zen stood up, thinking of the time he had put up some shelving at the family home in Venice, years ago. He felt the same calm, quiet satisfaction now, the same modest pride at a job well done. That house must be worth a fortune now, he thought.
He was brought out of this complacent mood of professional satisfaction by a savage kick to his calf which almost brought him down on top of his victim. He immediately bent over Gemma, tore the metallic tape off her mouth and then kissed her impulsively. Some of the adhesive backing remained on her lips, and even when the kiss was over it took a moment for them to unglue themselves.
'Hang on,' Zen told her, heading for the kitchen. He returned with a bread knife with which he cut through the cord binding Gemma to the chair. Then he helped her to her feet, rubbing the sore patches on her wrists anxiously.
'Let's just make sure the bastard's dead first,' said Gemma, pulling herself free.
She bent over Lessi's body while Zen stood back, the pistol in one hand and the knife in the other.
'There's no pulse,' Gemma commented, standing up again.
'Are you sure?'
'All registered pharmacists have to take first aid courses and refreshers. Believe me, he's dead.' She sighed loudly and turned towards the living room. 'I'll call the police.' 'No!'
Zen's tone was so peremptory that she looked at him half in startlement and half in anger. 'What do you mean?' 'We mustn't do that.'
'Are you out of your mind? This man came here and tried to kill us. Instead you killed him and I've got a corpse on my floor. Of course I must call them. You're a policeman yourself, he told me. You of all people should realize that.'
'Did he tell you that he was a policeman too?' Zen asked.
Gemma looked irritatedly confused. 'No, but what’s that got to do with it?' 'Everything.'
'And what’s that supposed to mean?' she almost shouted.
Zen placed the knife on the sideboard, put the gun in his pocket and took her arm.
'The situation's a bit more complicated than you think. Or maybe it isn't. I'm still slightly in shock. Isn't adrenalin great stuff? Come into the next room and I’ll explain. It won't take long. Then go ahead and call 113 if you want.'
Gemma shook him off.
'We can do this right here,' she said, confronting him. 'First, a few questions. Your name is Zen?' 'Yes.'
'What sort of name is that? 'Venetian.'
'And you're a policeman?' 'Yes.'
'So everything you've told me up to now was a lie.' Zen shrugged.
'I don't know about everything. But I lied about quite a bit, yes.' 'Then why should I believe anything you say now?' 'Because now I don't need to lie. And I won't, Gemma. I won't ever tell you any more lies, whatever happens.' She looked for a moment as though she wanted to believe him. 'But why now? Why not then?'
Zen hesitated for a moment. Then he recalled the phrase that one of his escorts had used when they drove him to Pisa airport after the shooting on the beach.
'I was not ordered to tell the truth. If you like, I'll explain why. But first we have to decide what to do about this.'
He gestured at Lessi's corpse.
'We call the police,' Gemma answered. 'We explain what happened. You shot him in self-defence after he'd threatened to kill us both. I'll testify to that. There won't be any problems.'
Zen shook his head.
'It's not as easy as that. Come and sit down and I'll try and explain. Afterwards, if you still want to call the police, I won't try to stop you.'
He started towards the living room.
'Not in there’ Gemma snapped. 'It you insist on boring me, come into the kitchen. We're a couple of murderers, for God's sake! There's no point in being formal’
In the bright, modern kitchen she gulped down a large glass of water, then another. Then she produced a bottle of white wine from the fridge and poured a glass for each of them. For the first time, Zen noticed what she was wearing. The same bare legs, the same sandals, but for this evening at home a very simple sleeveless dress in some soft pale-green material, tied at the left side of her waist. She wore flat gold earrings, but her hair looked less studied this time, her nails were unpainted and her make-up minimal. She looked fabulous, he thought, as if that mattered.
'I'll try and make this brief’ he told her, 'because if you're going to call the cops, you'll have to do it in the next few minutes. But we're safe here for the moment. Lessi was almost certainly operating alone. An anonymous break-in and two dead bodies was his idea, hence the wig and moustache. Even if one of the neighbours had seen him enter, the description wouldn't have been recognized. He was counting on no one knowing what had really happened, and therefore he almost certainly didn't tell anyone else about it. He may have had friends who would help him out in minor ways, like giving him the odd tip as to my whereabouts, but he couldn't count on them backing him up when a double murder was involved.'
He paused, smiling ingratiatingly and hoping that Gemma believed all this.
'It's unlikely that anyone heard the shots, but if you decide to make this official then the time of death will be established more or less accurately. So we can't dither around too long. Here's all I have to say, and I'd just ask you to hear me out before making a decision. Lessi's dead, but he was a member of an elite unit with a very strong esprit de corps. He admitted himself that he still had…'
A voice sounded out in the courtyard outside. Gemma went over to the open window.
'Ciao, Antonella!' she called down.
The other woman said something Zen didn't catch.
'No, no, I was just opening a bottle of spumante’ Gemma replied. 'I have an old friend over to dinner.'
'Bene, bene,' the other voice replied. 'Allora buon appetite' 'Altrettanto.'
Gemma turned back to Zen. 'You were saying?'
'I said that Lessi must have still had "a few friends in the business", as he put it. They'll have friends too. Lessi may have been regarded as a rotten apple, but if they find out that I killed him all that will change. The ranks will close. Believe me, they'll get even, one way or another. They may not kill me, but the prospect will be something I'll be living with for the rest of my life. You too, if we're still together.'
Gemma looked at him in a startlingly new way which he couldn't interpret at all.
'But what's the alternative?'