The Italian Affair (12 page)

‘Legal or not, they did,’ said Rick. ‘Anthony had previously advised the bank to contact him before any large amounts were cashed.’

‘I had no idea.’ Gina moved forward to use the phone, determined to give Anthony a piece of her mind, but Rick got there before her. ‘Don’t.’

Her gaze locked onto his. ‘Why not?’

‘Because you’re all wound up. Having a discussion with Anthony in that frame of mind will make things worse.’

Gina was tempted to ignore him, though something held her back. ‘You’re my bodyguard, not my counsellor.’

‘Sometimes I end up doing both.’ He gave a brief smile. ‘If the
occasion demands it.’

Gina sighed. ‘I bet you do. So what do you suggest?’

‘Forget it for now. Or, at least, leave it for a few days. Nothing can be gained from a heated discussion with Anthony. When you’ve calmed down, arrange a meeting with your grandfather. Tell him things aren’t working with Anthony being your financial adviser and lawyer. Request that you have someone else.’

She considered his words. Maybe he was right. ‘OK.’ She hesitated. ‘Except that when I tell my grandfather about the cheque, he’s not exactly going to be sympathetic.’

‘Perhaps. But you can only try….’

Later on, Gina saw her opportunity once her grandfather had retired to the study to go over some business reports. She knocked on the door. ‘Nonno, please, can I talk to you?’

He beckoned her inside and pointed to a chair. ‘Sit.’

She explained what had happened and why. ‘I know what it looks like, but I wrote the cheque because I thought I was doing the right thing.’

‘Why did you not come to me?’

She smiled regretfully. ‘I wish I had, but I didn’t want to upset anyone.’

Her grandfather gave a deep sigh. ‘You want someone different to handle your financial affairs?’

Gina nodded. ‘Now that Anthony is family, I think it would be better to have someone more objective. It would lessen the conflict between us.’

Luigi nodded. ‘
Sí
. That makes sense.’

‘Where did you get that?’ said Gina. The sight of the big black automatic holstered under Rick Caruso’s left arm stunned Gina. ‘You’re not allowed to carry a handgun in New Zealand. You of all people should know that. If you’re caught you’ll be in big trouble.’

Rick slipped into his jacket and settled it so the gun and the holster harness vanished. ‘I used to be a member of the police
tactical unit, like the Armed Offenders but more so. I think this threat to you and your family justifies it. Don’t look so worried, it’s legal. I’m officially one of only three civilians in the country permitted to carry a handgun. The police commissioner himself had to OK it. I only got it thanks to my record and Dave Brougham’s recommendation.’

‘So that’s what was in the black plastic box you picked up at the station.’ She hesitated. ‘What sort of gun is it?’

Rick slipped the automatic out of the holster and held it for her to look at.

‘Ugly thing,’ Gina blurted, pulling a face.

‘It’s a Glock 17, standard police issue,’ Rick replied, pushing the pistol back into the holster. ‘A very comforting thing to have around. Not as effective as a rifle but better than throwing bricks,’ he added with a grin.

‘I hope you don’t have to use it,’ Gina said.

‘So do I, but I will if I have to,’ Rick promised. ‘Now, let’s go out to dinner.’

In the bedroom while getting changed, Gina thought about the gun. Somehow it emphasized the danger she and her family were in.

She slipped on a creamy silk dress she’d bought recently. It had thin double straps and a fitted bodice and reached her calves. She reached into her jewellery case for her greenstone necklace and matching teardrop ear-rings and put them on. It wasn’t a date, she told herself. Yet she couldn’t ignore the flutter in her stomach at the idea of them both sitting at a table in a restaurant. He was probably trying to keep her amused, and enjoy himself at the same time, she justified.

Rick gave a whistle when she walked into the living room. ‘Nice.’

Her face flushed. ‘Thanks.’

‘I hadn’t reckoned you’d be a greenstone girl,’ he said teasingly. ‘I thought diamonds would be more your style.’

She fingered the smooth stones hanging around her neck. ‘I do have diamonds,’ she admitted. ‘But I wanted to wear this necklace
and ear-rings tonight. They belonged to my mother. My father gave them to her as a wedding gift.’

‘Then that makes the greenstone very special,’ he replied quietly, ‘especially if it’s given with love.’

His words made her wonder if she would ever find love like her mother and father had done. Her throat tightened.

‘Just a moment,’ she said, ‘I’ve forgotten something.’ She went to her bedroom to give herself time to compose herself. She reached out for her perfume and dabbed some on her wrists and behind her ears.

‘I’m almost ready,’ she shouted through to him. Then taking a deep breath to steady herself, she returned to the living room.

She watched Rick double check his Glock and tuck it into his shoulder holster, under his jacket.

‘Is that supposed to make me feel better?’

‘Just a precaution,’ he explained. ‘We’ll use my car. Less obvious than the Ferrari.’

Rick drove out the wrought-iron gates, waving to the security guard. The gates clanged shut behind them. A security van containing two guards was parked at the kerb. It followed them down the street. Rick had only driven a few yards when the Toyota veered to the side. A sharp bang almost deafened him.

‘Don’t tell me we’ve got a flat?’ he groaned. He pulled the station wagon over towards the pavement and climbed out. He bent down on his haunches to examine the tyre. The two security guards climbed out of the van and came over. ‘What’s the problem?’ one asked.

‘A puncture, damn it,’ said Rick with dismay.

Gina opened the passenger door and climbed out. ‘Shall we get my car or a taxi? It might be quicker.’

Rick turned around. ‘No, I’ll change it. You’d best sit in the van for now.’

The back window of the Toyota suddenly exploded, spraying glass everywhere.

‘What the hell…?’ said Rick. He grabbed Gina by the arm. ‘Get down,’ he shouted, ‘Someone’s shooting at us,’ and pushed her towards the pavement.

He whipped out his Glock. Huddled beside the car, he peered around the back end but couldn’t see anyone. The two guards were behind them, pinned against the side of their van. One signalled to him. Rick interpreted the gestures as saying the shooter was across the other side of the road.

Another shot rang out, missing Rick by millimetres and slamming into the back end of the car. ‘Jesus….’ His arm reached out for Gina. ‘Keep down.’

She nodded. ‘I intend to.’

Within minutes, a police car, the red and blue strobe light flashing furiously, sped down the road towards them. The breaks squealed as the car slowed to a stop and two uniformed officers carrying Glocks climbed out quickly and crouched behind their car.

‘What’s going on?’ one called.

Rick filled him in on the details. ‘Someone is taking pot shots at us, but I can’t make out where it’s coming from. It could be somewhere behind those line of trees.’ He pointed. ‘Or even that two-storey house over there.’

A large, white-painted colonial-style house stood directly opposite on the other side of the road. A window on the top floor was open slightly and the heavy maroon curtains drawn, but there was no sign of any inhabitants.

‘I’ll radio headquarters. We need back up,’ the officer replied urgently. He spoke into his radio. After a few seconds, he said to Rick, ‘Armed Offenders Squad is on its way.’

The police officer kept low, behind the open car door. He turned to his colleague. ‘Isn’t there an old lady living in that house? Maybe we’d better check she’s OK.’

His colleague replied, ‘I’ll go.’ Crouching low, he made his way further down the road, out of the firing line and crossed over to the line of trees.

Gina peered over the bonnet into the semi-darkness to see what was happening. Rick hauled her down. ‘Do you want to get yourself killed?’ he growled. ‘Don’t even move a muscle until I tell you.’

‘I was only looking,’ she protested.

His arm tightened protectively around her and she could feel his warmth melting into her body. Sensations shot through her which had nothing to do with the danger they were in.

The Armed Offenders Squad didn’t take long to arrive. Within twenty minutes, a vehicle sped down the road towards them and screeched to a halt. Police officers, dressed in black bullet-proof jackets and helmets, each carrying a Bushmaster rifle with a Glock on his thigh, climbed out.

After a quick discussion, several members of the squad fanned their way across the road. The officer in charge came up to Rick. ‘Best you both stay here until we check things out.’

Half an hour later, AO Squad members returned. After a quick discussion amongst themselves, the officer in charge spoke to Rick.

‘Looks like the shooter is long gone.’

‘And the elderly neighbour across the road?’ Rick enquired.

‘She’s safe. She was out visiting family when it all happened.’ He spoke into the radio briefly, then turned to Rick again. ‘It would be safer if we get you both inside the house.’

Rick agreed. He held out his hand and helped Gina to her feet. ‘You OK?’

‘I think so,’ she replied shakily.

Rick and three police officers escorted Gina up the driveway, keeping as close to the bushes as possible. The only sound was that of the gate shutting behind them.

Gina tried to stop thinking that she or Rick could have been killed, but the events of the past hour were taking their toll. Tears poured down her cheeks. Looking down at her silk dress, she was dismayed to see it covered in dirt, completely ruined. She tried to brush off some leaves but all she succeeded in doing was spreading a black sticky substance across the front. Oil, she thought, which
she’d picked up from the road while huddled in the gutter. She didn’t even know why she was worried about her dress when she had almost been murdered on the street. But, at least, it was something to focus on.

She had been so looking forward to going out tonight especially since Rick had managed to convince her she wouldn’t be neglecting Maria if she took a couple of hours out for herself.

Rick unlocked the door to her flat. She went straight into the bedroom to change into jeans and a shirt and washed her hands. In the hallway, she could hear Rick talking to one of the police officers standing at the door but couldn’t make out what they were saying.

‘What’s happening?’ she asked, afterwards.

‘The police have sent out a couple of patrol cars to scout around. Brougham has been informed, but there’s not much more we can do tonight.’

The phone rang, startling Gina. She turned around to answer it but Rick was there before her. ‘Don’t. Let me.’

‘You think it might be him?’ But even as she said the words, she knew that was exactly what Rick was thinking.

Only she knew from the look on Rick’s face it wasn’t. He spoke quickly. ‘Yeah … I understand. She’s right here.’

She stepped forward. ‘Who is it? Detective Brougham?’

‘No.’ He hesitated. ‘The hospital….’

She took the phone from him quickly, feeling a sense of unease. ‘Hello.’

A man’s voice spoke. He was tense, the tone urgent. ‘This is Dr Stevenson at Nelson Hospital. I think you should come straight away.’

Gina’s heart started to pound uncontrollably. ‘Why? Is there something wrong?’

There was silence for a few seconds. Gina’s chest started to tighten. ‘Dr Stevenson?’

‘I think you should come as soon as you can,’ he repeated. ‘Maria’s had a massive heart attack.’

‘Is … is she going to be OK?’

‘I’m sorry,’ he replied.

‘What … what do you mean you’re sorry?’ A chill shot through her. ‘Are you telling me she’s … she’s … dead?’

Another pause. A longer one this time. ‘Yes … I’m afraid we did everything we could.’

Gina put her hand to her mouth. Dizziness assailed her. She felt a light pressure on her arm from Rick. She forced herself to speak into the phone but had trouble forming her words. ‘I see. I’ll be there as soon as I can.’

When she hung up, she turned to face Rick. She didn’t need to tell him; he’d heard the conversation.

‘I’ll drive you to the hospital,’ he offered, his expression grim.

‘I can’t believe she’s gone.’ A sob stuck in her throat. Blindly, she tried to move past him, but he caught her wrist gently. ‘Gina….’

‘Yes?’ she whispered.

‘Is there anything I can do?’

She shook her head. ‘No. Nothing.’ She swallowed hard, her gaze searching his face. ‘Why did she have to die?’

‘I wish I could tell you,’ he said gently.

She let him gather her close. The warmth from his body was comforting. She rested her head against his chest for a few moments, trying to make sense of it all, but couldn’t.

‘I don’t want to see her dead. I want to remember her alive.’

‘Your grandparents will need you,’ he replied encouragingly.

She swallowed again. ‘I know. I need to go to them.’ She wiped away the tears that were now running down her cheeks.

It had been pure luck the watcher had heard Rick Caruso ask Gina out for dinner. He’d been checking out the Caruso property when they had called in for lunch. They hadn’t noticed him as he’d pretended to be a surveyor, measuring out the boundary next door to do with the property development. None of the workers had taken any notice of him since there were plenty of workmen about.
He’d edged his way closer, eventually climbing over the fence and hiding around the corner of the greenhouse. He could hear every word they’d said. When the private investigator had taken her in his arms, he had reached for his automatic in his pocket, his fingers curling around the gun’s butt.

Later that evening, he had hidden in the trees opposite Gina’s apartment, waiting for them to drive out. Just as he had anticipated, the black gates had opened. He’d blown their tyre with one quick shot. Then, after they climbed out the car, he’d fired at the back window. The third bullet was meant for Caruso, but the man moved faster than he’d thought.