The Italian Affair (4 page)

Gina interrupted his thoughts. ‘I’m going to the hospital. I want to be there when Maria wakes up.’

‘You only called them half an hour ago. The hospital said they would contact you if there was any change,’ he reminded her. ‘She’s still unconscious.’

‘I know, but I want to go.’

‘It’s safer if you stay here.’

‘I don’t care about myself.’

Rick was tempted to argue but quickly decided if she had her mind set, the best thing he could do was go along with it for now. Hell, he’d do the same if it was his sister lying in hospital.

‘OK, if that’s what you want. We’ll go right now.’

‘We’ll take my car,’ Gina said, a faint smile touching her lips. ‘It’s faster.’

He wasn’t going to object. He’d rather take her car any day since it would be easier. Rick tried to resist the temptation to put his foot down in the Ferrari Boxer. It certainly wasn’t every day he got to drive a car worth that much money. He enjoyed the sleek feel of the wheel beneath his hands and could almost swear the engine purred under his touch.

When they reached the outskirts of town he slowed down considerably. Road works held up the traffic. When he glanced in his rear-view mirror a line of cars were queued up behind him. He frowned.

‘Do you know who’s driving the Nissan Skyline two cars behind us?’ he asked. ‘It’s been following us for a while.’ He tried to make out the driver sitting in the front seat but it was impossible due to the vehicles in between.

Gina looked back over her shoulder. ‘No. I’ve no idea who it belongs too. Are you sure it’s following us?’

He shrugged. ‘It’s probably nothing. All the same, we can’t be too careful.’ After a couple of minutes, he noticed the car turn off at the roundabout and head down another road. Perhaps he had been overcautious.

When they reached the hospital, it was busy. Obviously visiting hours had created a flurry of activity. People were heading to the lifts carrying bunches of carnations and roses. There was a queue.

‘It will be quicker if we go up the stairs. That is, if you feel up to a walk?’ suggested Rick.

Gina nodded, moving quickly, her heels clicking on the polished tiled floor. After climbing a flight of stairs, and walking along a long corridor, she was so absorbed in her own thoughts, she bumped into a heavily laden linen trolley as she turned around the corner.

Rick put his hand on her arm. ‘Hey, slow down, will you? If you carry on at this rate, you’ll end up in here as well.’

‘Sorry,’ Gina muttered at the orderly, who cast her an annoyed glance. To Rick’s surprise, Gina bent down and helped the orderly bundle up the white linen that had fallen onto the floor.

When they reached the entrance to the intensive care unit, Gina spoke into the intercom device attached to the wall and gave her name. The door was unlocked and she went in. Maria’s room was opposite the reception desk. Gina looked at the plastic drip above the bed, the monitor beeping every so often reminding them that Maria was dependent on a machine. Plastic tubes hung everywhere. A nurse came in and took Maria’s blood pressure, entering it on the chart hanging at the bottom of the bed. She smiled sympathetically and then left.

Her grandmother sat on a chair beside the bed.

‘How is she?’ asked Gina softly. She reached out to touch her sister’s hair, noticing the curls were lifeless. A huge bruise had formed along the side of her sister’s forehead where she must have struck the marble pedestal as she fell.

Her grandmother dabbed her linen handkerchief at her eyes. ‘They’re doing all they can. The doctor says she’ll come around eventually; we just have to wait. She’s still stable, so that’s something. They say she’ll make it.’

‘Thank God,’ said Gina with relief. Tears welled up in her eyes. The doctor had explained earlier on when she had phoned for a
progress report that it had been a miracle that Maria had survived. If the bullet had gone in a few more centimetres to her left, it would have hit her heart. On intravenous morphine, the drug would make her sleep for some time.

There didn’t seem to be anything else to say, so Gina sat quietly, content just to be near her sister and her grandmother. She’d stay for as long as she was needed.

After a couple of hours had passed, her grandmother said quietly, ‘Gina, go home now. There’s nothing else you can do here.’

Gina hesitated. ‘Are you sure, Nonna? I don’t want to leave you here on your own.’

‘Luigi will be here shortly to pick me up. So you see I won’t be alone.’ Her grandmother’s mouth quavered slightly.

Gina stood up. ‘All right, Nonna.’ She found Rick waiting in the corridor, deep in conversation with a pretty young nurse. It certainly didn’t look like any professional conversation from the girl’s stance, Gina thought. She was leaning against the wall and laughing. Gina made her way over to him. The nurse saw her approaching, curtailed the conversation, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and walked away. She flashed Gina a smile as she passed.

‘Got other things on your mind, Caruso?’ Gina said tartly. ‘Or is chatting to the nurses all in a day’s work?’

His eyes narrowed. ‘It’s not what you think.’

‘Hmm … I’m sure it isn’t.’ He’d literally been making out with a nurse in the corridor. So she’d been right about him after all. She was very tempted to say more but held back while they were in the hospital within earshot of the medical staff. Once they were outside she’d tell him a few things about his overbearing manner, she decided. She might have to put up with him accompanying her wherever she went but that didn’t mean she had to like it.

They walked out the main entrance of the hospital building, and along the narrow concrete path towards the car-park.

‘I can’t stand it,’ she said, through gritted teeth. ‘I’m not used to someone following me around like this.’

His fingers dug into her arm as they stopped at the edge of the pavement, ready to cross the road. ‘And I’m not used to looking after spoilt young women.’

‘Why you—’ she started to say, but she never had time to reply because a grey Nissan Skyline came careering around the corner at a fast speed.

Rick grabbed her arm. ‘Get back,’ he shouted, pushing her into the bushes. ‘It’s coming straight for us.’

A sharp twig scraped along her arm making her cry out. Rick landed on top of her; both of them sprawled against the flowering camellia bush. The grey car sped off into the distance, tyres squealing.

‘For God’s sake, what on earth happened?’ she uttered, dazed, as she tried to untangle herself.

‘Someone just tried to run us over, that’s what happened. Damn it, the car moved so fast, I didn’t even catch the licence number.’

Gina’s breath caught in her throat as her hand rose to her chest. ‘You mean someone tried to kill me just now?’

‘I don’t know whether they wanted to kill you, but they certainly wanted to frighten you.’

Gina’s arm was stinging badly. Blood ran down her arm. Rick reached into his shirt pocket for his handkerchief. ‘Here, use this.’ When Gina made no effort to take it, he clamped it onto her skin anyway.

‘Why on earth would someone want to hurt me? There must be a mistake, perhaps they didn’t see us?’ she said.

Rick looked at her thoughtfully. Her face was pale. Without asking, he came closer and slipped his arm around her shoulders. It provoked a quick response.

‘You don’t need to hold me that close,’ she protested.

He grimaced. ‘Come on. I’ll take you into the hospital to get checked out.’

‘No … no … please, I don’t want to go back in there.’ Her throat tightened, but she blinked back the tears, refusing to let him
see how upset she really was.

‘It’s probably the best thing,’ he argued.

‘I just want to go home. I’m fine. Honestly, I am.’

After a few seconds, he gave in. ‘All right.’

In spite of her reluctance to let him help her, she leaned against him. His arm slipped around her waist as she made her way across the road. The warmth of his body was oddly comforting as she tried to deal with the throbbing pain in her arm.

When she glanced upwards, she saw his jaw angled determinedly. Being so near gave her a chance to study him more closely. There was strength in that face, she realized with a jolt, and there was determination too. Suddenly she knew that whatever she felt about Rick Caruso personally and he about her, he would protect her to the best of his ability. The thought was frightening but somehow reassuring.

When they reached the car he unlocked the vehicle. Once inside, he whipped out his mobile phone and punched in the number of the police station. ‘It was definitely no accident,’ he reiterated, as he gave a description of the vehicle and as many details as he could remember.

When he terminated the call, he clipped the phone back onto his belt.

After they pulled up outside the house, Gina realized she was shaking so badly, she could hardly stand. Rick insisted on carrying her down the steps to her apartment.

‘I don’t need anyone to help me,’ she protested. ‘I’ll be OK in a few minutes.’

He ignored her completely. Fuming, she had no choice but to bear it. He managed to unlock her front door and carried her straight into the bedroom where he laid her down gently on the bed.

‘Don’t move, I’ll be right back,’ he ordered. He reappeared shortly with a bag full of frozen vegetables wrapped in a towel and a flannel. ‘This should relieve the swelling.’ He applied the ice cold pack to her arm, and then used the flannel to wash the dried blood
off her arm. She grimaced as he moved her arm forward to get a better view.

She winced. ‘Ouch. Don’t press so hard, it hurts.’

He paused, his hand lifting slightly. ‘Sorry, I’m trying to be as careful as I can.’ He glanced at her briefly. ‘At least you don’t need stitches.’ He flashed a brief reassuring smile, then lifted up the bottle of antiseptic tipping a generous amount on to the cloth and applying it to her skin.

‘Ouch. It stings.’

Gina was becoming increasingly aware of him, the way his deft fingers touched her skin, skimming ever so gently over the bruised area. As he worked, she noticed other things as well, like his confidence and gentle manner. Rick Caruso was full of surprises, she thought. She glanced at his handiwork and at the piece of gauze now taped firmly into place over her arm.

‘So is first aid part of the deal of looking after me?’ Her brow arched questioningly as she attempted to inject some humour into the situation.

He smiled. ‘Only when the job calls for it. Mind you, this isn’t the first time I’ve patched someone up although admittedly no one quite as delicate.’

She looked at him carefully. ‘Thanks,’ she murmured, leaning back against the pillow he’d considerately arranged behind her to support her back.

He stood up. ‘I need to speak to the security guards and my old boss.’

‘Old boss?’ she queried, not understanding.

‘Detective Dave Brougham.’

‘Oh.’ She’d met the detective briefly when she’d given him a statement at the hospital. She had a feeling he’d be interviewing her formally soon. At least, he’d indicated that.

Rick hesitated. ‘Are you OK if I leave you for a while?’

Gina nodded. ‘I’ll be fine.’ That wasn’t exactly true. Gina recognized self-pity and didn’t like it one bit. Her eyelashes lowered
so he wouldn’t suspect how bad she really was feeling.

He stood at the end of the bed, still unsure. ‘OK. I’ll probably be about half an hour. It’s best you don’t open the door, no matter who it is.’

She gave another brief nod and closed her eyes, feigning tiredness. But that was only to hide the tears forming slowly behind her eyelids. For God’s sake leave me, she wanted to shout at him, as he looked down at her.

The door shut behind him with a resounding click. Silence descended. She reached over for her novel lying on the bedside table. Reading a few pages might help her take her mind off what had happened. She studied the cover of the book; a picture of a man and woman embracing on the front. It was a romantic story. Somehow it made her feel even worse.

Tears flooded down her cheeks. With a sob, Gina tossed the book to the far side of the room, knocking over a glass ornament on the chest of drawers.

Rick Caruso had been kind to her today. He’d probably saved her life when that car had come crashing down the road. But in all honesty, she still didn’t want him to stay with her. She didn’t want to rely on any man ever again. More importantly, she mustn’t forget Rick Caruso had a reputation where women were concerned and, at the moment, she felt far too vulnerable. A sob stuck in her throat.

Someone had hurt Maria. He was out there watching her now. The car incident today had proved that. If Rick hadn’t been there, she would have been under those car wheels.

So who was it?

And why?

The watcher relived the scene a million times over, enjoying every moment of it. The way Maria had fallen … the screams … the panic that ensued afterwards. And the wail of the sirens and flashing blue lights. He gave a malicious smile. Everything had gone according to plan.

Shooting a solitary figure in white was easy prey. If he’d wanted to kill Gina as well, he could have. But he knew that by shooting only one of the twins instead, it would give him more power over the Rosselini family.

Afterwards, he’d exited the hotel quickly before the cops sealed the place off. He’d already changed into grey overalls, put on a wig, then made his way down to the staff car-park. His first intention had been to ask the driver of a baker’s van for a lift, but when he saw a small car with the keys dangling in the ignition, he knew that taking it would be easier. He’d driven it to the port and dumped it. Then, grabbing his black bag he made his way back to the small house he had rented in a poorer part of town. It was somewhere he could blend in easily and where no questions were asked.

The watcher got up from the chair and made his way to the dirty window to peer out. The garden was full of weeds, the result of several years of neglect. Most tenants were transient and, with little money, no one bothered very much.

He shouldn’t have to live like this, he thought resentfully. All he
had in his pocket was fifty dollars and a Nissan Skyline parked in the driveway. At least he had paid his rent in advance so he didn’t have to worry about that for now. Sure he could sign on for government assistance, but that would mean the authorities would know his whereabouts. He didn’t want that.

Feeling restless, he started to pace the room. What now? Should he go back to the hospital? He’d been there earlier waiting for the right moment to approach Gina. He needed to talk to her. But every time he got close, that private investigator, Rick Caruso, was right by her side. It was obvious to him the Rosselinis must have hired him to guard her twenty-four hours a day. That made him laugh. Did they really think they could protect her? He could kill any of them, any time he wanted. In his frustration, he’d tried to run Caruso down. It hadn’t worked. Damn it.

A knock at the door startled him. Not expecting anyone, he peered out the window to see who it was. A man in a red uniform stood there looking curious. It was the postman. Deciding to answer it, he swung the door open and forced a smile. ‘Can I help you?’ he said politely.

The postman lifted up some letters. ‘Mr Grey?’

He almost shook his head but stopped just in time. ‘Yes. What is it you want?’

‘These letters were found dumped at the end of the street, just by the river. Looks like some kids took them, probably up to mischief. The old lady from next door found them when she was walking her dog. Thought I’d better deliver them to you personally.’ He hesitated. ‘It might be a good idea to get a lock for your post box.’

‘Thanks. I’ll see to it as soon as I can.’

The postman handed the letters over with a smile. ‘There you are.’ He paused slightly. ‘I’m Andy by the way. I’ve just started this postal run.’

‘Pleased to meet you, Andy. Thanks for your help. Now, if you’ll excuse me.’

‘Sure. See you around then,’ said Andy cheerfully, backing away.
He gave a wave, then hopped back on his bike and started to pedal.

The watcher shut the door, and locked it. In the kitchen, he slit open the first letter. It was just a circular letting the occupant know about a garage sale held at the local school. The second was a newsletter from the bowls’ club. The third looked interesting. It was a letter, from a woman, obviously a friend of Mr Grey’s. Enclosed was a hundred dollar bill. The previous occupant, Mr Grey, now resided in an old folk’s home. Someone obviously hadn’t told the woman. But then, the letter was from out of town, so perhaps no one knew her address to inform her.

A hundred dollars wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to buy his meal for the day and a few groceries.

He grabbed his jacket and car keys and drove into town. He found a small café and ordered a pie and chips and a beer. As he ate, he thought about what he had to do. The Rosselinis had betrayed him. He’d brooded over it, night after night.

He drained the last of his beer. Before his glass hit the table, the waitress came up. ‘Another drink?’ she asked.

He glared at her, irritated that she had disturbed his thoughts. He nodded. ‘Yeah, why not? Another beer.’

She must have felt his gaze on her still because she looked up at him as she stood behind the bar. Eventually, the waitress delivered the beer. ‘Anything else?’

‘Nope.’ Ten minutes later, he finished his drink and paid his bill. Now, he’d head for the Catholic church. Sometimes Gina attended evening mass. It might be a chance to talk with her. Even if she didn’t turn up, he could sit for a while and contemplate. Perhaps God would help. He gave a low laugh. Fat chance. God helped those who helped themselves.

The following morning, Rick stood on the deck of Gina’s apartment surveying the view of the beach. He lifted the binoculars and zoomed in on the surfers. He recognized several whose philosophy in life was work to live. They even took time off work, or pulled a
sickie, if surfing conditions looked good. Surfing had been in Rick’s blood since he was a teenager and he spent as much time as he could at the beach.

Moving to Christchurch while in the police force had curtailed surfing more than he liked but he had still managed to make it to Sumner, a well-known surfing beach on the outskirts of the city, whenever he had time off. Someone had once asked him why he’d chosen surfing. He reckoned it was more to do with the sea and the way it relieved stress, than the actual sport. He’d seen the worst of humanity both as a street cop and later as a detective and member of the elite tactical response unit. Somehow, the sun, sand and surf gave him psychological release as well as the physical benefits of keeping fit. He reckoned it was better than a good workout at the gym. On a deeper level, there had been the odd moment when he’d been surfing at sunset and the sky had been streaked red and fiery against the vivid blueness of the water reminding him there was still moments of beauty in the world after a tough day at work. Now that he was back in Nelson, he tried to surf most evenings if his work allowed. Normally he would have been out there with the surfers, but work had to come first and the bills had to be paid. Besides he had his eye on a new surf board.

It had been a bonus getting this contract to look after Gina Rosselini but it was initially only for a couple of weeks. He’d been surprised the Rosselinis had hired him rather than a well-known private investigator but he knew that was due to Anthony’s influence. Both of them went way back to when they’d attended high school together. They’d also been on the same high school football team. It had been a coincidence them both choosing
law-related
areas as a profession after graduating from school, but it had strengthened the friendship between them. That didn’t mean he was blind to his friend’s faults. Anthony got a bit arrogant at times but, being a lawyer, that attitude got him results.

Rick adjusted the lens of the binoculars as he swung to the left towards a sharp drop of the cliff. On the main road below, a few
teenagers were leaning against their car, smoking cigarettes, their loud hip hop music drifting up to him. Another car had pulled into the lay-by beside them. The occupants didn’t get out but were admiring the view across the bay. For a few minutes, he watched both cars steadily. Satisfied that they didn’t pose any threat, he swung the binoculars around again in a semi-arc.

He heard footsteps behind him, recognizing them as Gina’s.

‘I’m going into town,’ she announced.

‘What for?’ he murmured. He swung around again, holding the binoculars steady and for a fleeting second zoomed in on long, shapely legs walking past him. She was wearing the shortest skirt he’d ever seen. His gut tightened.

She wrenched the binoculars out of his hands. ‘Shopping.’

‘Shopping?’ he repeated, taken aback. ‘At a time like this?’

‘I need to buy a few things,’ she explained. ‘And I have an important appointment.’

‘Where?’

‘I’ll tell you when we get there,’ she said vaguely. She lifted her arms, gathered her hair in a pony-tail and snapped on a gold clasp. The effect made her look younger, he thought.

He frowned. ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea to go into town right now. There are too many people and it would be difficult to protect you properly. We don’t know who’s out there, especially after what happened to you yesterday.’

Gina lifted her chin defiantly. ‘Are you telling me I can’t go out?’ Her voice was smooth and silky like melted chocolate.

‘That’s right.’

‘I see,’ she said slowly.

He gave a relieved smile. ‘Glad you’re seeing some sense.’

‘In that case, how about I make us some coffee?’ She handed him back the binoculars, though he had a feeling she wasn’t pleased.

He shot her an uncertain look. ‘Coffee sounds great. Black and strong. One sugar. Thanks.’

‘I should have guessed.’

He stared at her blankly. ‘Excuse me?’

‘That you don’t take milk.’

Sometimes women didn’t make a lot of sense to him. But every male said that sometime or another. He gave a grin. ‘I can drink coffee with milk or without,’ he informed her. ‘The legacy of being a cop, I guess. As long as it is hot and sweet, I don’t mind.’

She flashed a brief strained smile. ‘I’ll see what I can do. But don’t expect donuts.’

‘Donuts?’ Now she really had him confused.

‘Like you read in crime novels. Cops always eat donuts, don’t they?’

He felt like laughing. ‘I’m no longer a cop. I’m a private investigator. And I’m Italian, so it’s
zeppoli
. Donuts made Italian style.’ He had a feeling she was going to swipe him one from the seething look she was now sending him. He’d better backtrack promptly. ‘Er … coffee’s fine. Any way it comes.’

When she headed inside he breathed a sigh of relief. Placing the binoculars on the table in front of him, he picked up a magazine on current affairs turning to the article on a recent report of disengaged staff in the police force.

Most police officers who leave on psychological or physical grounds would like the opportunity to return.

Yeah, he could relate to that, he thought, sighing. He missed the force more than he had realized. But, at least, he was lucky to work in a job similar to police work. Caruso Security Consultants had been established with the money he had received from disengaging from the police force over three years ago, when he’d been thirty years old. Although he had been well known in the area during his younger years as a cop, his reputation as a private investigator had taken time to build up and he’d been pleased with the company’s progress.

After a few minutes, he called out, ‘Gina, what’s happened to the coffee?’ There was no answer, so he called out again. Still no response. He threw the magazine down on the table and walked
inside. No coffee percolated in the kitchen. Nor was there any sign of Gina. He frowned. Where the hell had she gone? Quickly, he checked all the other rooms but she was nowhere around.

‘Damn it….’ She must have slipped out the balcony doors in the bedroom and headed upstairs to see her grandparents. Irritated at her lack of consideration, he took the steps two at a time until he reached the top level. About to enter the entrance of the top apartment, he heard the Ferrari starting up in the garage. Then it dawned on him. He bolted through the garage door, catching her just as she was about to reverse.

‘Hey, what do you think you are doing?’ he gasped, wrenching the car door open.

Startled by him suddenly appearing from nowhere, Gina’s foot accidentally hit the accelerator. The car lurched forward scraping the car door against the wall of the garage.

‘I’m going shopping. And I don’t need your permission.’

‘I’ve told you, it’s too dangerous.’ He swung the door, examining the paintwork. Only a small scrape but it really irked him to see such a beautiful car dented. He cursed under his breath.

Gina revved the Ferrari harder, her slim legs moving up and down. ‘If you don’t get in, I’ll go without you,’ she threatened.

He knew she meant every word. So he made a quick decision. There was no way he could keep her prisoner and Mr Rosselini did give instructions she was to lead as normal a life as possible. He’d go along with her decision for now even if he didn’t agree with it. Still, she wasn’t going to get it all her own way. His voice came out firm. ‘All right, but you do exactly as I say. Have you got that?’

Gina smiled as she slipped her Armani sunglasses over her eyes. ‘Of course,’ she replied sweetly.

Rick’s eyebrows knitted together suspiciously at her tone. ‘Has anyone ever told you that you’re far too used to getting your own way?’

‘Uh-huh. Plenty of times.’

‘Yeah, I thought so somehow.’ He lifted his finger and wagged it.
‘I mean it, Gina. One step out of line and we’re straight back home. Got it?’

She nodded, though there was a curve to her lips that told him she wasn’t taking him seriously.

By the time she had driven the car out of the garage and onto the tarmac area, it was Rick who said, ‘Move over, I’m driving.’ To his surprise she agreed and shifted over to the passenger seat.

After parking in town, Rick was around to her side in a flash and took her arm firmly the minute she climbed out of her seat.

‘I’m not going to run away you know,’ she said, trying to shrug him off. ‘Quit holding me so tightly.’

He grinned. ‘I’ve never heard a woman complain about it yet. Besides, after that car tried to run you down I’m taking no chances.’

Rick’s cell phone went. He gave his name and listened for a moment. ‘Great. That’s a first. I’ll be there shortly.’

‘What is it?’ she asked.

‘My old boss. Dave Brougham. He’s been busy on our behalf,’ he replied enigmatically. ‘I need to call into the station for a minute.’

The minute turned into five. Gina sat in the Ferrari while a young constable hovered nearby. Rick had taken the car keys with him. When he returned to the car, he was carrying a hard plastic box fastened with a padlock. He put it on the floor underneath his legs and started the car. He didn’t tell Gina what the box contained though he could see her looking at it curiously.