Claire Gulliver #03 - Intrigue in Italics Page 6

  She turned her attention back to her book; the sounds from the table and the occasional laughter blended with the sounds of the Villa and the birds. She woke with a start when Ruth trotted in after her swim. “Millie, you should have come, the water was wonderful. It was so refreshing.” Then seeing the game in progress she veered across the piazza. “What are you playing?”

  Ruth eagerly joined the table. Millie noticed when Ruth joined the game the noise level increased substantially, as did the laughter and the good-natured jeers. Ruth was a fun person, Millie conceded. She was lucky to have her as a friend all these years. While Ruth had no aspirations to be a professional chef, she was and had always been a good cook and, of course, she appreciated good food. So she claimed she was enjoying the Retreat, which was a relief for Millie. It was costing Ruth plenty to accompany her and Millie knew Ruth did it because she believed Millie should attend. She felt guilty about that, worrying that Ruth was spending all that money for no benefit to herself.

  Millie sighed, she was an adult. Sometimes she couldn’t understand why she was so reluctant to try new things, to have new experiences?

  Then the answer popped into her head. It was because too many scary things happen! Some had happened to her.

  She found being careful and staying in a familiar environment made it all the easier to avoid nasty surprises. While San Francisco frequently had a high crime rate, her neighborhood was relatively safe. She knew the people there, they watched out for each other. She shook her head. She wasn’t going to sit here and rehash the past, deciding instead to think about the group break out sessions scheduled next on their agenda.

  Millie looked more carefully at the people at the poker table. Three of them, Zoe, Steven and Sam were in one group. Ruth and Jacques were in another, and George was in her group. She had been disappointed when she found out she and Ruth would be in different groups. Wanda had explained their reasoning when she gave out the group assignments, pointing out that it would be better for each person to function individually. That way, she said, each person would get the most out of the Retreat.

  So along with their group assignments she told them where they would be meeting and what their assignments were. Each group would use the break-out session this afternoon to select the recipes they would serve when they were responsible for the Main Course, the Antipasto, the Wine and the Dessert during the next few days. Each course would be expected to consist of three selections with the exception of the wines. Each day one of the groups would be responsible for selecting all the wines served with the meal. It was imperative for the group choosing the wines to know what the menu items for that day would be.

  She smiled as she sighed with pleasure. She loved being here. The beautiful countryside and the Villa were wonderful, but the excitement of meeting all these people involved in the culinary field she loved, was just the best.

  * * *

  Once more Claire was poised on the street corner ready to complete her mission. But today she was really prepared. She had found the bike to be very handy in navigating through Florence and used it for the rest of yesterday and even this morning while she was out and about. Now she was more confident. Now she was used to the touchy hand brakes. She wouldn’t be caught unaware today. She was smiling with anticipation when she saw the couple and their kids pass on the motorcycle. Then the red-haired woman passed her. Claire glanced over her shoulder, spotting a break in traffic; she pushed off from the curb to smoothly join the stream of riders on the street. She didn’t race to catch up today. Today she was content to just keep her quarry in view. She had decided it would be best to approach her when they reached her destination.

  Claire had already gone a few blocks when she noticed the man who had cut her off yesterday, thereby triggering the pile up. There was no mistaking his brown shiny suit that flashed olive green when the light struck it. No, she didn’t need to see his face, the fancy suit and his gleaming designer loafers made him hard to miss. Today he didn’t seem to be in as much of a hurry as he had been yesterday. He pedaled leisurely along in the stream of traffic between her and Kristen. Despite his fancy clothes and his relaxed manner, his bike appeared to have been ridden hard. It was dented and battered from use and on the rack over the back wheel a large padlocked box had been attached to secure the rider’s belongings.

  So they all moved down the street and, as long as Claire could see Kristen up front, she was content to just be a part of the flow. On her bike, on the street with the other commuters, she felt just like one of the locals.

  Then Kristen was gone. Just like that. She had glanced away for a moment and when she looked back she had disappeared. She pedaled faster but then, relieved, she saw the brown suited man turn into a small alley. Deciding it was the only place Kristen could have turned off she headed that way too. When she got there she saw it stretched only a half a block between two buildings ending at a stone wall. She didn’t see Kristen’s bike, but there were doors leading into the buildings on either side and somehow she was sure Kristen had gone through one of them. The man in the brown suit had just finished attaching his bike to some pipes extending from the wall on one side of the alley. He hurried past her with a scowl on his face, never even glancing at her as she got off her bike and wheeled it into the little space. The pipes were anchoring several bikes in spite of the universal sign of a bike in a circle with a line through it posted on the wall. She boldly attached her bike to the pipes as well.

  Now what? She stood in the alley and looked at both doors but there wasn’t any indication as to where they led. She walked back out to the street and decided to turn to the right first. There between the alley and the corner she found a store and judging from the display in the windows, it was an art supply store. One of the clerks was just unlocking the door after the lunch break, so Claire wandered in with the other customers. She examined the impressive array of supplies as she headed back to the service desk. She got there just as Kristen came out of the door from the back room. They stood frozen, eyes locking for a moment. Kristen shook her head, held up a finger indicating a “one moment” signal and retreated back through the door.

  Claire heard a rapid spate of Italian, then Kristen reappeared. This time she was slipping into a backpack and with a jerk of her head she signaled Claire should follow as she headed toward a side entrance and out on the street around the corner from where Claire had entered.

  “So it really was you,” Kristen said as they walked down the street away from the store. “I thought I must be mistaken.” Then she smiled wryly. “I hoped you would just go away.

  “But I know how you are. And you are tenacious, aren’t you?”

  Claire had a million questions, but they never even got to her lips.

  “We’re just going down the street for a coffee. I’ll answer your questions then, okay?” Kristen told her firmly.

  Claire was still stunned, so just murmured, “Okay!” as she meekly walked beside her friend.

  At the end of the next block there was a cluster of inviting sidewalk cafes. Kristen selected a table some distance from the occupied ones. The waiter took their order and disappeared. Kristen shrugged out of her backpack, setting it on the ground between her feet.

  “Never, never ever put your belongings in a chair or beside you. Believe me they’d be gone in a minute. I love Italy, especially Florence, but the tourists swarm all over the place and, of course, they attract the thieves, pickpockets and muggers. You have to be alert to stay intact.”

  Claire watched her, noting the changes in the Kristen she had known. She was now in her mid-twenties. Wearing her casual, artsy clothes she looked even younger until you saw her eyes. The eyes looked old. They projected a weariness of the world. Claire didn’t know what had happened to Kristen to make such a change. The Kristen she had known was intelligent, hard working and had such a marvelous good humor she was fun to be around.

  The waiter returned with their coffees and a pastry for Kristen. She stirred a co
uple teaspoons of sugar into her espresso before she sat back and looked at Claire. “All right, you can see I didn’t die.” She shook her head. “Who would have believed I would run into someone I knew? Here? And it would be someone who wouldn’t be convinced they were mistaken and therefore, would persevere to track me down.”

  “But why, Kristen? Why pretend to die? Your parents, your friends, everyone was so upset. And I talked to your brother. He couldn’t have known! He was crying for god’s sake.”

  Kristen had the grace to squirm. “I know. I’m really sorry.... But, I had no choice. And my brother knows now. And my parents know. But no one else does. You see, I got involved in a little situation.” She stared morosely at Claire then sighing, she proceeded with her story.

  “If you remember, I was trying to get my Master’s at State while still working at the library part-time. It was really a hectic schedule, but I was almost done. I didn’t have much of a life except for working and studying. But once in a while I would go out with friends to the clubs South of Market.

  “We liked to dance. That’s all, just dance like crazy and laugh. We didn’t even drink, only soft drinks. And we made a pact to watch out for each other. You know, make sure our drinks were safe, that no one slipped something in them? And we agreed to make sure we each got home safely? We promised each other we wouldn’t let any of us go home with anyone but one of us.” She looked at Claire to see if she was following the story.

  Claire nodded. She had heard stories of what was happening in some of the clubs. It was a sad situation, but it could be very dangerous for girls who only wanted to have a little fun.

  “Anyway, it worked for us and we enjoyed ourselves. We had a favorite, the Gemini Club, in a little alley off of Harrison.”

  Claire recognized the name of the club. She had heard it was the “in” place.

  “Their band was hot. And it had a big dance floor. So usually that’s where we went, or if we went somewhere else we would end up at the Gemini before going home. Anyway, I met this guy there. His name was Sonny. He was a dream. Danced like a professional, looked like a movie star and wasn’t afraid to show he had manners drilled into him. I probably saw him five or six times over a couple months. He wanted to take me out, but I was stalling.”

  “Why? He sounds almost perfect.”

  Kristen nodded, thinking a moment she tried to explain. “I thought he was perfect. But I was very busy then, and I didn’t have the time for romance. And to tell you the truth I was leery of one of the guys he hung out with. He made me nervous. I used to feel goose bumps when he looked at me. And that made me worry about Sonny. Like, why did he hang around with him? Was he the same, but just in a nicer package?” She glanced at her watch a moment before finishing her pasty.

  “How’s our time? Will you get in trouble with your boss if you’re gone too long?” Claire asked.

  She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. When we’re through I just need to go back to get my bike. I’m quitting today.”

  “Quitting? But..., why?” Claire was shocked.

  She gave a half smile. “Because you found me. And if you did, someone else may, so it isn’t safe anymore.”

  Claire sat back dismayed; it had never occurred to her she would be disrupting Kristen’s life.

  “Don’t worry, Claire. I’m just glad it was you who found me.” She reached out and clasped Claire’s hand briefly. “And I’m really glad to see you. You were always so nice to all of us students. You were always so calm, so patient when we made stupid mistakes. You know we all said we were going to grow up to be a ‘Claire’.

  “And you know I really felt rotten about letting everyone think I was dead.”

  The silence stretched out before Kristen picked up her story again. “Anyway, one night at the club I went up to the ladies’. The club is in an old warehouse and the facilities are upstairs down a long corridor to the back. It was a warm night and the windows along the hall were all opened. I was looking out as I walked along, and I saw Sonny and his two buddies down on the street on that side of the building. I almost called out to him, but there was another guy with them and I could tell they were arguing. I couldn’t actually hear what they were saying, but it didn’t look nice. Then they pushed this other guy into a big dark SUV and they all got in and took off.

  “What got me was when they opened the door the interior light fell on the guy’s face. His look of absolute terror made my blood run cold.”

  “Oh my god, what did you do?”

  “I went on to the ladies’ room. And I told myself I was over-dramatizing the whole thing. Anyway, every time I thought about it I managed to convince myself it was a non-event, and I finally did forget about it.”

  Now she had a stricken look on her face and Claire leaned forward. “And? What happened? Come on, I know there is more to this story.”

  Kristen nodded, blinking back tears. “Later that week I was in the lunch room at the library taking a break and I glanced at the Chronicle someone had left on the table. There he was. The guy I saw getting into the SUV with Sonny on Saturday night. They found his body in Golden Gate Park on Tuesday. They said he had been beaten to death. Tortured, they said.” The last few words came out in a rush. She looked at Claire, her misery obvious.

  “So I hadn’t been over-dramatizing things. I might have saved him. But I didn’t. I just ignored it all. And he died because I didn’t help him.”

  Claire sat back stunned at this story. She felt so sorry for Kristen. She hadn’t done anything. Her sin was omission instead of commission.

  “I was really upset. And I was scared, because it was clear Sonny had a part in this. Sonny, the guy I thought was perfect, the guy I was thinking about dating, was a murderer. And worse! They tortured the guy to death.

  “I had to call the police.

  “It turns out Sonny is the youngest and only son of a major mafia don on the East Coast. He’s been coddled and spoiled by his six sisters and his parents. He is apparently amoral. He has been suspected in a number of brutal crimes, but the authorities could never get any evidence. The Feds had been keeping an eye on him for over a year, trying to get him on something that would put him away for awhile. He is destined to take over after his father and while his father is tough, the Feds say they don’t want to face what Sonny will do with the power of the crime syndicate behind him.

  “With the information I gave them they zeroed in on Sonny. They decided to keep my involvement quiet after they were able to turn one of his buddies, who agreed to testify to avoid the death penalty. It wasn’t the creepy one, the other one. Anyway, it didn’t save him. He was mysteriously murdered while still in police custody. So then I became the only weapon they had to convict Sonny. They said the only way to protect me and their case was for me to go into hiding. I didn’t want to, but they scared me. And apparently there was good reason to be scared.

  “It’s been one delay after another. Sonny’s father’s attorneys are apparently very good. But they were never able to get Sonny released on bail, so at least I know he’s not going to turn up. Now I understand the trial is scheduled for September. Finally Sonny will get his day in court. That’s when they plan to convict him of murder on my testimony.

  “And, when it’s over, I will go into the Witness Protection Program and start a new life somewhere.”

  “Kristen, I don’t know what to say.” Claire shook her head sadly. “Now I’m really sorry I didn’t listen to my mother and just assume it was someone who looked like you.”

  “No, believe me, I’ve learned it’s best not to ignore....”

  The plate glass window shattered behind them just as the noise reached their ears; their table rocked violently throwing the dishes to the concrete. Claire grabbed the table, preventing it from toppling over and at the same time steadied herself. Being from San Francisco, naturally she first thought “earthquake,” but the loud noise sounded more like an explosion — a very big blast — and it was close.

 
; CHAPTER 5

  The car park looked over undulating hills softened by the remnants of the night’s fog. They milled around the bus talking excitedly while waiting their turn to board. The festive mood was contagious, like a group of school children getting ready for a field trip. And that was what it was, a field trip. They would spend the entire day in local wineries, sipping, eating and enjoying the ambiance.

  Sal talked quietly to Helga and Frederick in Italian while Wanda, the other assistant chef conferred with Chef Martin while checking off a list as people boarded the bus.

  “Okay people, let’s not spend the day in the parking lot. There’s wine to be tasted.” Chef Martin’s voice carried over the noise.

  That got a laugh and the pace of boarding speeded up. Millie followed Ruth down the aisle. Ruth was dressed to party in a short cotton sun dress with bare legs and the high-heeled sandals she obviously loved. She did bring a sweater, a concession to Millie’s warning about how cool the cellars were liable to be.

  Millie was dressed much more sensibly in lightweight slacks, a sleeveless shirt and a sweater over her shoulders, its sleeves tied around her neck. She had been to visit wineries in California and knew that in spite of the hot dry countryside the cellars used for storing the wines would be cold. And she wore her comfortable rubber-soled walking shoes for walking in the fields, on cobblestones and exploring cellars.

  They took the first two seats still available which were behind LiAnn and Sam Ng. The Ng’s were an interesting couple. Millie thought they were in their late seventies, but they could be in their eighties. Both were small, maybe wizened was a better word. Sam had become stooped by the weight of his years, but LiAnn, tiny as she was, held herself erect as if there was a ramrod down her back. She was almost regal in her manner. Last night while talking to them at the cocktail party Millie had learned LiAnn was the matriarch of the large Ng family. Their seven children, thirty-five grandchildren and fifteen great-grand-children all apparently catered to LiAnn, as did Sam.