Man on Fire (10 page)

"I'm paid to protect her, not amuse her."

She inclined her head in acknowledgment and asked,

"Did you argue? She wouldn't tell me, but last night she was very quiet and seemed disappointed."

He got up and walked to the window and looked out with his back to her.

"Look," he said. "Maybe this isn't going to work. I didn't think much about it before, but I'm not the type to be a social companion. Maybe you'd better ask your husband to find someone else-someone younger."

He turned to look at her. She was shaking her head.

"No, you're right. You were hired to protect her. Nothing more. I'm confident you'll do that."

She was looking at the bed. The gun had attracted her attention. It hung in its holster from the bedstead.

"I didn't realize you had a gun." She smiled. "I know-that's a silly thing to say, but it makes the whole thing so serious."

He said nothing and she went on.

"I suppose I thought you would be a karate expert or something." Then she remembered the report. "Unarmed combat, is that right? Weren't you an instructor?"

"Yes," he said. "But armed combat is more effective. Anyway, the gun is a deterrent. I don't expect to use it."

She considered that.

"But you will if you have to, if Pinta is in danger?"

"Naturally."

Now he could sense her interest and guessed what was coming.

"You must have killed a lot of people."

He shrugged, and she looked at him speculatively.

"I can't imagine it. I mean in a war and from a distance, yes. But close up, face to face, it must be horrible."

"You get used to it. And getting used to it is not great preparation for being a nursemaid for a child."

She laughed. "I suppose not. But we didn't hire a nanny." She abruptly changed the subject. "We have a spare radio downstairs. I'll give it to Maria for you. Do you like music?"

He nodded slowly, wondering at her change of direction.

"Some."

"What kind?"

"Country and Western, that kind of thing."

She stood up and said, "Ah yes, Tennessee-Pinta told me. Well, it plays cassettes, but we don't have any Country and Western."

She walked to the door, turned, and said, "But I'm sure you can find some in Milan. We are going there tomorrow. I'm having lunch with friends."

She looked at him reflectively, then said, "It would have been better if we had had more children. She's quite lonely, but..."

She shrugged and opened the door and left.

He went back to the chair and took up the book, but she had distracted him. He couldn't pick up the thread. So he went to the wardrobe and pulled down his suitcase and took out a bottle.

It would be good to have some music. The Country and Western was about the only trace left of his youth. Tomorrow he would look around in Milan and see what the record shops had. Probably only new stuff, but he knew Johnny Cash was popular in Italy, and he had heard Dr. Hook on the radio and liked him, and Linda Ronstadt. He had heard her "Blue Bayou." It had become a favorite. He poured a drink and picked up the book again, but it was no good. The woman was on his mind.

"I'll be finished at about two-thirty." She pointed to a side street next to the restaurant. "You can park up there."

Creasy nodded and said, "If the police move me on I'll circle the block. Just wait on the corner."

She got out of the car and walked across the street. Creasy's eyes followed. She wore a slim, straight skirt, something that few Italian women over thirty can do or should do. Her figure was just the right side of voluptuous and her height made it perfect. She disappeared inside and he pulled out into the traffic and glanced at his watch. Two hours to kill.

He considered it his first real day on the job. They had left the house just before eight, mother and daughter sitting in the back. Rika told him she had left the cassette radio with Maria. Pinta studiously ignored him.

A uniformed security guard stood outside the school gates. He had peered into the car and Rika introduced Creasy. The guard had studied his face, memorizing it. The gates were slightly ajar and Pinta was about to get out when Creasy's voice stopped her. "Stay where you are."

He got out and walked past the guard and looked inside the gates. Satisfied, he went and opened the back door of the car and nodded at the girl. She kissed her mother and then jumped out and walked past Creasy without a glance. The security guard gave Creasy a hard look and stood and watched as they drove off.

"You're careful," Rika had commented.

"Habit," came the reply.

"I talked to Pinta. Explained that she wasn't to bother you, just let you get on with your job."

"She seems to have got the message," he said.

"Yes, but I didn't mention our talk last night. I just told her that you weren't used to children. I don't want her to end up hating you."

He drove to the railway station and browsed through the bookstall there, picking up several paperbacks. Then he walked over to the telephone office and put a call through to Guido.

Yes, he'd started, he told him, and no, he wasn't sure how he'd like it, but he'd give it a chance. Anyway, the food was good. Then he called Elio and thanked him for his hospitality. In a couple of weeks, he would like Elio and Felicia to have dinner with him on his day off.

He had felt welcome during the few days he had spent in their house. Felicia was a tall, attractive woman from Rome. She had met Elio at the university. They were happy and their house was relaxed. She had treated Creasy like a prodigal uncle and teased him gently; he liked her.

He wandered around the station. He liked stations the movement and noise and people going places. He also liked trains. It was a good way to travel. You saw things go by and felt you were going somewhere. Long journeys on good trains gave him pleasure. You could get up and look around and have a meal.

He saw a shop selling cassettes and browsed through it and found a couple of Johnny Cash and one by Dr. Hook. He couldn't find anything by Linda Ronstadt, but when he was paying the girl he inquired and she dug around in the back and found one. It had "Blue Bayou" on it and so far the day was moving along alright.

At 2:30 he was waiting in the street by the restaurant. At 2:45 a policeman came by and motioned him on. He beckoned the policeman over and showed him his bodyguard's license.

"Does it pay well?" asked the policeman.

"Not bad. But a lot of sitting around on your ass."

"Better than flattening your feet on the streets."

A rapport was established and the policeman moved on to harass less fortunate citizens.

Just after three o'clock Rika appeared with a man and a woman. They were in a relaxed mood. Creasy got out of the car and was introduced.

"This is Vico and Gina Mansutti Creasy."

They were a handsome couple. He might have thought her beautiful but she was shaded in Rika's light. The man was tanned, impeccably dressed and neat. Fastidious, thought Creasy. The kind of man who would only masturbate into a clean handkerchief.

They studied him with interest and the man said, "I understand you were in the Foreign Legion at one time."

Creasy nodded.

"And captured in Vietnam."

He nodded again.

"It must have been unpleasant."

Another nod, and Gina giggled and whispered to Rika, "Does he talk?"

"Of course," said Rika sharply. She turned to the man and kissed his cheek.

"Vico, thank you for a lovely lunch. I promise not to let Gina spend too much." The two women got into the car. Creasy nodded at Vico again and drove off. Vico remained standing at the curb watching as the car negotiated the traffic. Creasy saw him in the rearview mirror. He seemed preoccupied.

For the next hour and a half Creasy drove from shop to shop, opening and closing the trunk for a variety of parcels. Then he reminded Rika that he had to pick Pinta up at five. She looked at her watch in surprise. "It's so late? Never mind, you go on. I'll phone Ettore to pick us up."

At the school there were several cars in the courtyard and girls were already coming out to them. Creasy sat and waited.

Finally Pinta came around the side of the building with two other girls. They stood and talked for a while, glancing frequently in his direction. Then they split up, the two girls going over to a blue Mercedes and Pinta going back around the side of the building. The Mercedes left. Twenty minutes later Pinta reappeared, carrying some books held together with a strap. Creasy got out and opened the back door. As she passed him, she held out the books. He took them, holding them by the strap.

"Your mother's returning with your father," he said.

She inclined her head, and he closed the door. They drove home in silence.

That night Maria made stracciatella from the broth of Friday's chicken, followed by saltimbocca. They ate in silence. The food was delicious. Then, with the coffee, Creasy picked up a paperback and started to read. He remembered something.

"You have a talent Maria, the food was excellent."

Maria beamed with pleasure and Creasy went back to his book. Maria and Bruno started discussing the Pope. They accepted Creasy and his silence. The kitchen was relaxed.

Later, up in his room, Creasy put a cassette into the player and listened to Dr. Hook sing about love and yesterdays. He took down a bottle and poured a drink. He didn't really hear the words, but the tone and the music crept in under the shell.

He reviewed the day. Day one as a bodyguard. Not too bad. At least he had established a working attitude. Everyone knew what he was, and what he was not. It was a start.

One floor below Pinta lay in bed awake. Next to her, with its head on the pillow, lay a very old brown teddy bear with button eyes and a lot of patches holding in the stuffing. Her window was open and she could hear the faint music. After a while it stopped and a different tape started. A woman sang. Pinta didn't know the song, but when it finished there was a pause and the same song came again. She started to drift into sleep.

The music was plaintive, haunting. It was "Blue Bayou."

Chapter 6

With Creasy installed, Rika felt free to travel with Ettore again. One of the unforeseen results of her hastily withdrawing Pinta from school was that she too had been confined to the house. It wouldn't have done to keep her daughter home for safety and then leave her with only the servants.

Most of Ettore's trips lasted a week or ten days and involved visits to the major European cities and occasionally to New York and Toronto. She enjoyed these excursions and was a help to Ettore. He was usually selling and with her looks and charm she was an asset.

He had forgotten to discuss with Creasy the question of time off. Obviously, while he and Rika were away, Creasy would have to stay with the girl. He left Rika to break the news and she was relieved at Creasy's easy acceptance. Time off was not something he had really thought about. Occasionally, he told her, he might want to go out to dinner, but he could do that while they were at home. She realized that having a bodyguard without roots or family had distinct advantages, and she left for Paris with her mind at rest.

Ettore was going to negotiate the purchase of new Leboc6 knitting machines. The total cost would be over four hundred million lire, and unless the French could be persuaded to give very generous credit terms, it would be a nonstarter. Still, he was a persuasive negotiator and, with Rika along to add charm to the social occasions, he was optimistic.

The absence of her parents meant that Pinta took her meals in the kitchen. Creasy was relieved that they had developed what to him was a sensible and satisfactory relationship-she ignored him. She wasn't rude and had dropped her attitude of hurt indignation. She simply treated him as a necessary but uninteresting fixture.

So at meals she would talk only to Bruno and Maria, being serious and respectful to the old man and lightly teasing the woman, especially about some supposed suitor in Como. Creasy could see that they were very fond of the girl and enjoyed having her eat with them.

But it was a pose. Like her mother, she was a natural actress. Her attitude to Creasy was assumed.

Children are tenacious. She wanted to be friends. The obstacles made her even more determined. She had nodded dutifully when her mother instructed her not to bother Creasy, and then she had considered long and carefully and finally arrived at her strategy. She was an intelligent girl and warmhearted and her character, unlike her mother's, was composed of two main elements. On the one hand, her parents' life-style and her lack of brothers or sisters had matured her beyond her eleven years. She was used to the company of adults and was an accurate observer of their behavior. On the other hand, she had a keen and stimulating curiosity and was constantly delighted with new discoveries. She was moving into life expectantly and with a wonderfully open mind. Disappointments and setbacks would not cloud her optimism. She was like a small puppy, all energetic curiosity, jumping back a pace when confronted with something strange, but then inching forward again, nose twitching.