"Si," Amoretta agreed, quickly. "Get the truck out, Luigi. We must leave at once."
Glauco had just handed Wilhelmina back to me with a longing last look at the Luger. I heard Amoretta's remark, but it took a few seconds to sink in.
"Whoa?" I said. "What do you mean 'we'?"
"I'm going with you, Nickie," she announced, matter-of-factly."
"Oh, no, sweetheart," I said. "I'm going back alone. This is my stick."
"No, I go with you," she said, thrusting her lower lip out. I saw the frowns gathering on her kinfolk.
"This is nothing for you," I argued.
"Why not?" It was Glauco who asked, belligerence in his tone. I wanted so to give his big stupid face a clout that might knock some sense in it, but I held back.
"Because this is my work " I shouted at him.
"And it is our uncle," he returned.
"This is a matter of family honor," Luigi chimed in. They were drawing close again and I could see tempers skyrocketing and all the ingredients for another brawl in the making.
"She is not good enough to help you, Americano?" another one glowered at me. If I had the time I'd have enjoyed bashing a few thick skulls but all I wanted was to get out of there as quickly and simply as possible.
"She's fine," I said. "She can come with me. In fact, I'll be glad for her help."
The relaxation was audible. Luigi got the truck out and took the wheel with Amoretta setding down beside me. Cries of good-luck and farewell resounded as I drove off. It was as though we were taking off for the front lines. I'd said I'd be glad for her help and I meant it. She would be more than helpful directing me down out of the mountains. When I reached the main roads, passionate, luscious Amoretta and I would be parting company. I knew it wouldn't exactly be a fond farewell but she'd get over it.
As we neared the bottom of the hills, I saw the lights that indicated a main road crossing in front of me.
"Have you ever walked to your home from down here?" I asked casually.
"Oh, si," she said. "As a young girl, I often did it. It's not too bad if you know the way and don't rush."
"Glad to hear that, honey," I said, braking to a sudden stop. "Because you're walking home right now!" I jumped from the truck, pulling her with me. A large clump of pine brush lined the road. I tossed, her into it screaming. The air was turning blue with Italian curses I'd never heard and more than a few I knew. I was in gear and starting off as she struggled out of the pine bush. I looked through the rear-view mirror to see her running out into the road, shaking her fist after me and still yelling.
"Nothing personal, doll," I grinned. "But this isn't your bottle of vino, to coin a phrase."
Dawn was just starting to tint the sky, but I was already thinking of where to go from here. One thought kept coming back like a recurrent melody. If it hadn't taken place after I'd left the professor, then it had to have occurred right under my nose. It just wasn't possible, I told myself again, all the time realizing that the impossible had obviously happened. I wanted a list of every son of a bitch who had attended the last eight meetings. I'd trace the background of every last one of them. There had to be a lead in there someplace.
The little truck, while slow, was reliable. Morning brought a hot sun but I kept steadily on with it. When I reached Rome I pulled the truck over into a side street and left it there. The carabinieri would find it and trace the registration. I was dog tired, and I got a room at a modest hotel, the Rafaello, and cabled Hawk I was staying with it from here. I gave him my hotel and room and told him to wire me if he had anything important to add. It had been along day and a longer night. I took a hot bath, stretched out on the bed and fell asleep. It was late afternoon when I awoke. There'd been no cable from Hawk, which meant he hadn't anything more for me. I decided the fastest way to get a listing of everyone at the past eight meetings was through Karl Krisst I did some fancy checking, found there was a Karl Krisst in Zurich and put a call in to him. He answered and recognized my voice at once, to my surprise. I could just see his round face wreathed in an unctuous smile while those darting little eyes snapped attentively. I told him what I wanted. "I want the complete attendance list for each of those meetings," I said. "I want every person, big, little, important, unimportant.
Karl Krisst's voice was cooperatively unctuous, his words just the opposite. It's not the policy of the ISS to give out such information, Mr. Carter," he intoned. "May I ask why you make this rather unusual request?"
"I can't divulge that," I said, feeling my temper rise irritably. "The list of each meeting was publicly announced at the time. Why can't I obtain a copy now?"
"Such announcements are never really complete," he answered smoothly. "To go back and compile a complete list for the past eight meetings would be a formidable task, I'm afraid."
He was being ever so helpful while continuing to hedge. I was getting angrier by the second. "Look, cousin," I began again, hearing the edge to my voice. "I know you sure as hell have a complete list for every meeting. You'd have to have them for your own records if nothing else. If you won't send me a photostatic copy of the past eight attendance lists, I'll go to the ISS governing board and see that they order you to cooperate."
His tone changed at once. "You misunderstand me," he said. "There's absolutely no need for that. I'm always happy to cooperate with any government officer on official business even when I don't know what it's about." The ending was a bait line tossed out that I didn't snap at. He could damn well wonder what it was all about. He was typical of minor officials, I concluded, always out to make themselves more important than they were.
"Please airmail the lists to me at the Hotel Rafaello here in Rome," I said. "If they do what I hope I'll see you get your name in lights."
I hung up and went out for a stroll and dinner in Rome. I wished I could enjoy the warm, friendly city, but I was on edge, anxious, irritable. I went back to the hotel and got some more sleep. The desk woke me early. Give him credit, or maybe I'd put the fear of God into him, but Krisst had gotten the lists off at once and they had arrived. I spread them out on the floor and spent the whole morning studying them, making my own work sheets with each man's name on a sheet. When the morning was over I'd a floor full of papers and a lot of names cross-indexed with the disappointing result that not one ISS member had attended all eight meetings. That seemed to rule out my thoughts about one man being responsible for all eight of the horrible post-meeting collapses. I went over it again. I had to be sure there were no errors, no slip-ups. But I'd been right. A lot of them had attended a lot of the meetings, but none had been to every one of the past eight As my eyes roved over the work sheets spread out all over the floor before me, I let my mind race along by itself in a stream-of-association technique I'd learned years ago, delving, skipping, probing, jumping about Eventually, something began to come through. The only name that appeared at every meeting was Karl Krisst. I sat back against the couch and let that turn around in my mind for a while.
I didn't try for reasons, for any kind of motivation for anything. I was only after leads and while it seemed an unlikely one, it was a fact He had attended every one of the past eight meetings. I'd seen plenty of unlikely facts become very likely in the past. I didn't ever discount anything, no matter how weird it seemed. Certainly in this wild affair I wasn't about to do it. Glad-hand Karl could be a dead lead — and then he could be something more than he seemed. It was the only lead I'd come up with, if you could call it that. I decided to call it that. I called Rome airport for a schedule of flights to Zurich.