Surprised by Love (20 page)

Tom threw in, “For that matter, bring Connie’s
bodyguards to the preview.  Then she will be perfectly safe.”

“Unless Renata starts to shoot,” Jeff suggested.

Alessandro paled.  “We need security personnel
staying close to Renata, so that we can be sure they immobilize her gunhand if
she should be so crazy as to try shooting,” he insisted.

“Good idea,” said Jeff.  “We’ll get two extra
security guys in, working under cover.  We’ll specify that they have to be
handsome, and we’ll stick them to Renata. They can flirt with her so she thinks
they’re a conquest and no danger to her plans.  And Connie will be
protected by Alessandro, Tom or me and her body-guards.”

 “You’d better do that, darling lad.  I am a
dirty infighter, but when it comes to lightning reflexes, you’re much
better.”  Tom glanced around and went on.  “I think what we need is
an IV of my best
Krug. 
We’re all too upset now to think of food
with any appetite.  I’ll ask Charlene to hold things back an extra half
hour.”  He got to his feet.  On his way to the kitchen he said,
“Darling lad, will you take care of the
Krug?”

“Of course, Exalted One,” said Jeff deadpan and went
to get the wine.

****

Tom phoned Alessandro, to report on Renata. 

“I’m phoning you about this, so that we don’t upset
Connie.  The bitch has come twice to the gallery this week, flirting up a storm
with me, and when I allowed her to overhear me saying something to Jeff about
the preview, she begged prettily to be allowed to attend.   I thought
it would give us the advantage of being ready for her, and not having to wonder
when she would try to pull something.  So of course I said I’d be
delighted if she would come.  I just invited her for the free-for-all from
5-7pm.  I want you and Connie to enjoy the exhibition from 3-5pm,
fortified by my best
Krug 
Which is quite a difference from the
non-vintage swill Emma Brown dishes out on the gallery floor to the 5-7 crowd.
”

~The extra security guards are in place, and fully
briefed?~

“Of course,” said Tom scornfully.  “The security
firm came through with two very goodlooking men, both dark—in view of her
predilection for you.  They are enjoying the idea of working under cover,
and while appearing to be Renata’s eager slaves, they will be watching her like
the proverbial hawks.”

~Thanks, Tom.  That makes me feel a bit better.
 The idea that we have to expose Connie to danger in order to draw
Renata’s fire does not sit well with me.~

“The darling lad feels the same way, and so do I, of
course—but it is the only way to get Renata to show her murderous
intentions.  And with the two under-covers bracketing her, she will not be
able to harm Connie in any way.  Trust me on this.”

Alessandro sighed.  ~I know you’re right, but I
wish we could catch Renata some other way.~

“We can’t, Alessandro.  And we have Renata boxed
in.  You and Connie will move back and forth constantly, almost
zig-zagging, so that she never has a clear field.”

~Believe me, I wish it were Friday, and that I would
wake up beside my unharmed Connie.~

“You will, Alessandro, you will.”  Tom
disconnected and glanced up at Jeff.

“Alessandro is very worried about Connie’s safety.”

“Yes, I heard.  Understandable, but as you said,
we can only draw Renata out by shoving Connie in her way.  And Connie will
be protected by her two bodyguards, Alessandro and me.  Renata will never
have a clear line of fire.”

****

The pre-preview of Gabriel Duarte’s exhibition of
recent paintings was in full swing.  Tom and Jeff invariably asked their
best friends and most important clients to come ahead of the crowd, at 3pm, and
enjoy the privilege of seeing the paintings unencumbered by bobbing heads and
excited chatter.  Invariably, his friends and clients showed their
appreciation for the privilege by buying quite a lot of paintings.  Tom
was a generous friend and host, but he was also a brilliant business man.

Alessandro did his best to look at the impressive
paintings, determined to buy at least one.  When he strolled into an
alcove, he saw two paintings that said ‘Toscana’ to him.  Quickly going
over to the descriptive cards beside them, he saw that he was right.  A potted
biography between the paintings mentioned that the painter had spent some time
in Tuscany, and in six months’ time there would be an exhibition of paintings
from his Italian sojourn. 

Quickly, Alessandro signaled to Jeff. “Will you
reserve the two Tuscan paintings for me?”

Jeff smiled.  “Turn the cards over,” he
suggested.  Alessandro took the pins out and saw his name on the reverse
side. 

 “Clever Jeff,” he smiled.  “This is the
only truly good thing that’s happened to me today.  Two paintings of my
beloved Toscana—” 

 “There will be more good things— we’ll catch
that bloody Renata long before she can try to inflict any harm on Connie, and
she will get jail time for attempted murder.  In Florida, the courts don’t
joke about things like that, believe it.”

 “She’s no doubt counting on her illustrious
family name to duck out of range when justice is being meted out.”

 “Won’t do her any good here.  Judges are
impervious to a big name from abroad—that won’t faze them for a nanosecond.”

They went back to Tom’s office where Connie was
talking to the painter and his wife. Alessandro joined them, putting an arm
around Connie’s small waist.  She quickly introduced him to Gabriel and
Tasha Duarte, and Alessandro said, “I was delighted to see two paintings of my
beloved Toscana.  Were you in Italy for a long time, painting?”

Gabriel shook his head. “Not as long as I wanted—I was
unprepared for the stunning beauty of the country, and had gone over for six
weeks, I think it was?”  He glanced at Tasha, who said, “Yes, six weeks.”

 “I hope you will decide to come again. 
There’s a big farmhouse where the Montedalcino vineyards are, and you and your
wife could stay there.  Mostly, Connie and I live in our house in the
outskirts of Florence.”  Connie smiled at Alessandro’s description of his
palazzo
as a house.  She’d known he would do that—the very opposite of
Renata’s snobbish bragging.

Gabriel’s excitement showed in the brilliance of his
dark eyes.  “You mean it?  Maybe I should add that we have two
children…”

 “Of course I mean it, and the staff will adore
the children.  All Italians do—perhaps you’ve noticed.  Whenever you
wish to return to Italy, tell Tom and he will arrange with me to have my plane sent
for you. Parents with two small children are better off in a private plane.”

Gabriel and Tasha glanced at each other.  By some
quirk of kind Fate their next trip to Italy was made not only possible but
incredibly comfortable.

Gabriel swallowed. “That’s… We…we’ll do that, thank
you, Alessandro.”

Jeff came by to say, “Stand by.  Greg is going to
throw open the entrance doors, and the stampede will begin.”

Alessandro and Connie noted that her two bodyguards
were waiting outside Tom’s office.  In a nearby niche, two tall, dark and
quite handsome men were idly chatting, their eyes never leaving the stream of
clients entering.  Suddenly, they straightened, glancing at each other,
and casually joined the influx of clients. Alessandro gazed at the entering
crowd, and saw Renata.  She was frowning—possibly because Tom was not on
hand to greet her personally?  She had such an exaggerated idea of her own
importance. 

Ah, there he was.  After some pleasantries, Tom
half-turned and made a fuss of the two under-covers, on whom he fawned as if
they were his richest clients.  Renata noticed it and became interested as
well.  Alessandro’s mouth turned down.  The Tevere-Borghese family
being impoverished, evidently Renata intended adding a couple of well-heeled
admirers to her entourage.  He wondered whether, somewhere in her
convoluted mind, she was allowing for the possibility of not being able to win
Alessandro back?

Renata began to circulate, her two new admirers
sticking closely to her. Her eyes searched the crowd restlessly, never once
looking at the paintings. 

At last, she breathed a satisfied “Ah…” when she saw
Connie.  She frowned when she noticed Alessandro’s arm around her,
shrugging in annoyance when she spotted Jeff on Connie’s other side.  She
never realized that the two big men who seemed to play tag at Connie’s back
were there for a purpose.

The two under-covers nodded their satisfaction. 
Renata’s chances of doing the intended victim any harm were just about zilch.
It would be up to them to make the woman’s chances an absolute zilch.

When Connie and Alessandro turned into an alcove,
Renata’s eyes began to glitter.  She’d have Connie trapped quickly and
then…

In the comparative isolation of the alcove, the two
men at Connie’s back turned around as if to go back to the main gallery, and
Renata saw her chance.  A glance at her escorts showed that they were
gazing at her with besotted expressions.  Good, they would never notice
what she was doing, until it was too late. 

Renata opened her purse, slipping a hand inside. 
The men beside her seemed to come to life, and when she brought a small silvery
pistol from her bag, their hands clamped onto hers.  Enraged by their
interference, Renata tried to wrench her hands free, without success. One of
the men instantly grabbed her gun hand and shoved it straight up.  Renata
managed to get one shot off, which went into the ceiling. 

The crowd panicked, withdrawing as far as possible
from the woman with the gun, although it was clear that she could no longer
shoot. 

Immediately the two under-covers wrestled her to the
ground.  Using pressure points on the hand and wrist, they squeezed hard,
and she released the gun from suddenly numb fingers.  Connie’s bodyguards
strode over quickly offering help, but the two under-covers had the situation
in hand.
  

Jeff came at a run. “I’ll phone the police,” he gasped
and disappeared. 

The two bodyguards led the way to an almost invisible
door in the back wall of the alcove.  It  gave onto a narrow
corridor, which led to the kitchen and restrooms on the right, and to Tom’s
office on the left.  When they arrived there, another security officer
quickly closed the door to the gallery and cuffed Renata, who screamed her
indignation—to no avail.

 When Alessandro arrived, his arm tightly around
Connie, Tom glanced up.  “Hard to say which of you is the paler,” he
quipped.  Becoming quickly serious, he added, “You see, Connie, you’ve
come to no harm.  You were merely the bait to flush out the murderous
bitch.  Alessandro, how about taking Connie  into the sculpture
garden?  She won’t want to be in the same room with this murderous
cagna.”
 

Striding over to Renata, he bit out, “Shut up, you
evil
cagna.
  Hear that siren?  That’s the police. 
They will take you to jail where you’ll stay until you get your day in court,
and no doubt a stiff sentence for attempted murder.  That’s ten to fifteen
years here.”

Alessandro—who was on the point of stepping through
the sliding glass doors and taking Connie into the garden—hadn’t thought he
could ever be amused again, but Tom’s
‘cagna’
 did it. 

“Where on earth did you learn the Italian for bitch?”
he asked.

Tom grinned.  “My tailor is Italian.  I
asked him.”

“Tell him he did you proud.  Did you see Renata
flinch when you threw that word at her?”

“I got another one standing by.  If she cuts up
rough he said I was to call her a
‘sciatonna’.”

“Wow!” said Alessandro.  “Yes, she would be very
upset to be called a slut.  If you see an opportunity, please use it.”

Chapter 19.

Jeff, who had been on the lookout for the police, now
brought them into the office.  A man wearing neatly tailored civilian
clothes, said, “Lieutenant Corrigan.  How may I help you?”  A
patrolman was close behind him, but remained at the door to the office.

Tom beamed.  “Congratulations, Lieutenant
Corrigan.  I remember when you were Sergeant Corrigan and invariably
created order from chaos.  Let me explain what this is about. 
Meanwhile, you may want to take into custody the woman who attempted to murder
Constance Montedalcino.”

Connie’s two bodyguards identified themselves to
Corrigan, and the two under-covers dragged a still screaming Renata forward.

“Silence!” Corrigan thundered, and to everybody’s
surprise, Renata finally shut up.  He turned to the patrolman. 
“Hogan, put your cuffs on the woman, read her her rights and put her in the
back of the car.”