The Blue Ring (45 page)

"He's OK."

"Go to bed, then. Tell me in the morning."

He sighed and pushed himself wearily to his feet, managed to smile at her and
said, "Will you join me for breakfast?"

She smiled. "I will prepare your breakfast and join you."

It was like the old times. He looked down at his plate: six rashers of bacon, four
fried eggs, hash brown potatoes, grilled tomatoes and grilled kidney.

He cleared the plate, drank two cups of coffee, looked at her and said, "You
want it from the beginning?"

"Of course."

It took him the best part of an hour. She knew some of it, but only the early part. He
took her through the entire story of 'The Blue Ring', without a single interruption.

When he had finished she said, "Of course I have read in the papers about that
final black mass. It has titillated the whole of Europe. I was angry that it
took you two weeks before you came to tell me all about it." She began to
ask her questions. "How is Satta progressing?"

He lifted his head and said with a tired smile, "Colonel Satta will soon be promoted
to General Satta. It will not compensate for the permanent pain he feels for
Bellu, but he has much to keep him occupied. He is cutting a swathe through
entrenched Italian corruption. He has a new assistant called Captain Brisci. I
hope in a way that it's like losing an old and faithful dog: the best therapy
is to get a new puppy. Meanwhile Satta is closing in on Benito Massaro. That
will be something to watch."

"What about the child on the altar?"

Creasy sighed contentedly.

"Satta's mother, the venerable Sophia, has taken an interest. Her elder son Giovanni has
been married for ten years and has yet to produce a child." He shrugged.
"I think his mama will arrange something."

Blondie nodded firmly, as though such an event was both practical and correct. "I
know Maxie has been home these ten days, but that's all I know."

"Maxie is fine and well. I got slightly drunk with him in his bistro last night. But
he cannot solve my problem, which is why I came to see you."

With a wave of her arm she brushed that aside. "What about Frank and Rene?"

"They're on holiday in Gozo, staying at my house and being spoiled rotten by Juliet. She
has turned them into a couple of maudlin pussycats."

"What about the Dane and The Owl?"

A twinkle came into Creasy's eye.

"They're in Copenhagen. Jens resigned from the police force. They've opened a private
detective agency specialising in missing persons."

She smiled. "I like that policeman...that ex-policeman. Tell him he's always
welcome here, and his friend The Owl."

"I will."

"What about Michael?"

Creasy took a sip of his coffee and said, "That's my problem."

"You deserve a problem," Blondie said severely. "What is it?"

Creasy sighed. "I strangled the man, Gamel Houdris. Michael does not know that Houdris was his
natural father. My problem is that I do not know whether to tell him."

Blondie shrugged dismissively. "What's the difference? He must have hated the man anyway."

"I would have thought so," Creasy answered quietly. "But I assumed that
he hated his natural mother. I was wrong...I almost lost Michael."

The old woman patted her curled hair into place. It was a gesture she always employed
while thinking deeply. "Where's Michael now?" she asked.

"Not far from here. He's across the border in Germany, at a place called Wiesbaden."

"Doing what?"

Creasy looked up from his mug and said flatly, "Killing Juliet's stepfather."

Blondie rolled her eyes to the ceiling and muttered, "What a pair you are."
Her face became very serious. "Creasy, I understand you and I understand
Michael, who is your creation. I've lived a long time and seen much of life and
death...I worry that for you and Michael death has lost its real meaning...I
worry that you and Michael dispense death like a poker player deals
cards."

Creasy looked up at her and shook his head. "Blondie, don't judge me and don't
judge Michael. We react to what people do to us and to those we love."

She sighed. "Creasy, the trouble is I understand you, and I know what drives
you, and I know what drives Michael...But it doesn't make me sleep easy. I
would wish to see a softer side to both of you."

Creasy shrugged. "Maybe one day we'll both find that softer side. I thought
Michael would be here. He was supposed to do the job a couple of days ago."

"You've heard nothing?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I offered to go with him, but he wanted to do it alone."

The doorbell rang. Two minutes later Michael came into the kitchen, looking
troubled. He hugged Blondie and kissed her on both cheeks, then sat down
opposite Creasy. Blondie moved to the stove and started cooking Michael a breakfast.

The young man looked across the table and said, "I sort of fucked up."

"Tell me."

Michael was obviously embarrassed. "I got a bomb from Corkscrew Two. I wired it up
under the bastard's new BMW and sat three hundred metres away with the remote
control. I sat there, relishing the moment when I would hit the button. I sat
there thinking of Juliet and what that bastard had done to her. I thought about
that bitch of her mother standing by and doing nothing. I thought of that BMW
going up in a blinding flash."

"So?"

Michael sat back in his chair, looked at the ceiling and said, "I couldn't do it."

"Why not?"

The young man leaned forward, cupped his face in his hands, looked at his adoptive father
and said, "While I sat there with that remote control in my hand I had
this feeling that we had killed enough people lately. I found that vengeance
had become a very cold meal."

Creasy also leaned forward and said, "I've heard that somewhere before. So you
didn't press the button."

Michael smiled. "Oh, sure. I blew up that nice new BMW with no one in it. He'll
have a hard time explaining that to the insurance company."

They both laughed. Blondie watched them from the stove. She watched the laughter
leave their faces.

She heard Creasy say very quietly, "Michael...you know I strangled Gamel
Houdris."

"Of course I know."

"You don't know that Gamel Houdris was the man who forced the woman on the wall to
forsake you...He was your natural father."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Michael leaned back in his chair and again looked at the ceiling. His breath came out
with one exultant word. "Halleluja!"