The Doomsday Conspiracy

Robert wanted to strangle her, but there was nothing he could do. “Yes,” he said. “Can we go now, Pier?”

“In a minute.”

“Now!” Robert said.

“Oh, very well.” Pier turned to the women. “We must leave now. We have an important appointment. Ciao!”

“Ciao!”

Pier got into the car beside Robert, and the women stood there, watching them drive away.

Pier said happily. “They are all old friends.”

“Wonderful. Where’s your mother’s house?”

“Oh, she doesn’t live in the city.”

“What?”

“She lives outside, in a little farmhouse, half an hour from here.”

The farmhouse was on the southern outskirts of Naples, an old stone building set off from the road.

“There it is!” Pier exclaimed. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

“Yes.” Robert liked the fact that the house was away from the

centre of town. There would be no reason for anyone to come looking for him here. Pier was right. It’s a perfect safe house.

They walked up to the front door, and before they reached it the door flew open and Pier’s mother stood there, smiling at them. She was an older version of her daughter, thin and grey-haired, with a lined, careworn face.

“Pier, cara! Mi sei mancata!”

“I’ve missed you, too, Mama. This is the friend I telephoned you about that I was bringing home.”

Mama did not miss a beat. “Ah? Si, you are welcome Mr …?”

“Jones,” Robert said.

“Come in, come in.”

They entered the living room. It was a large room, comfortable and homey, crammed with furniture.

A boy in his early twenties entered the room. He was short and dark, with a thin, sullen face and brooding brown eyes. He wore jeans and a jacket with the name Diavoli Rossi sewn on it. His face lit up when he saw his sister. “Pier!”

“Hello, Carlo.” They hugged.

“What are you doing here?”

“We came to visit for a few days.” She turned to Robert. “This is my brother, Carlo. Carlo, this is Mr Jones.”

“Hello, Carlo.”

Carlo was sizing Robert up. “Hello.”

Mama said, “I will fix a nice bedroom for you two lovebirds, in the back.”

Robert said, “If you don’t mind … that is, if you have an extra bedroom, I’d prefer a room to myself.”

There was an awkward pause. The three of them were staring at Robert.

Mama turned to Pier. “Omosessuale?”

Pier shrugged. I don’t know. But she was sure he was not a homosexual.

Mama looked at Robert. “As you wish.” She hugged Pier again. “I’m so happy to see you. Come into the kitchen. I will make some coffee for us.”

In the kitchen, Mama exclaimed, “Benissimo! How did you meet him? He looks very rich. And that bracelet you are wearing. It must have cost a fortune. My goodness! Tonight I will cook a big dinner. I will invite all the neighbours so they can meet your …”

“No, Mama. You must not do that.”

“But, cara, why should we not spread the news of your good luck? All our friends will be so pleased.”

“Mama, Mr Jones just wants to rest for a few days. No party. No neighbours.”

Mama sighed, “All right. Whatever you wish.”

I’ll arrange for him to be picked up away from the house, so that Mama will not be disturbed.

Carlo had noticed the bracelet, too. That bracelet. “Those are real emeralds, huh? Did you buy that for my sister?”

There was an attitude about the boy that Robert did not like. “Ask her.”

Pier and Mama came out of the kitchen. Mama looked at Robert. “You are sure you do not want to sleep with Pier?”

Robert was embarrassed. “Thank you. No.”

Pier said, “I’ll show you your bedroom.” She led him toward the back of the house, to a large, comfortable bedroom with a double bed in the middle of the room.

“Robert, are you afraid of what Mama might think if we slept together? She knows what I do.”

“It’s not that,” Robert said. “It’s …” There was no way he could explain. “I’m sorry, I …”

Pier’s voice was cold. “Never mind.”

She felt unreasonably offended. Twice now he had refused to sleep with her. It serves him right that I am turning him over to the police, she thought. And yet she felt a small, nagging sense of guilt. He was really very nice. But fifty thousand dollars was fifty thousand dollars.

At dinner, Mama was talkative, but Pier and Robert and Carlo were silent and preoccupied.

Robert was busily working out his plan of escape. Tomorrow, he thought, I’ll go down to the docks and find a ship out of here.

Pier was thinking about the phone call she was planning to make. I’ll call from town, so the police cannot trace it here.

Carlo was studying the stranger his sister had brought to the house. He should be an easy mark.

When dinner was over, the two women went into the kitchen. Robert was alone with Carlo.

“You’re the first man my sister has ever brought here,” Carlo said. “She must like you a lot.”

“I like her a lot.”

“Do you? Are you going to take care of her?”

“I think your sister can take care of herself.”

Carlo smirked. “Yeah. I know.” The stranger seated across from him was well dressed and obviously rich. Why was he staying here when he could have stayed at some fancy hotel? The only reason Carlo could think of was that the man was in hiding. And that brought up an interesting point. When a rich man was in hiding, somehow, some way, there was money to be made from the situation.