The clammy prickle at the back of Ida’s neck spread across her whole body. She felt cold and hot at the same time as she turned to survey the garden and distant hills.
Was he here? Just outside the villa? Or one of his henchmen with a telephoto lens? A drone maybe?
Ida swallowed convulsively, her throat tight with terror at the thought of the old man watching her.
She opened her mouth to say something, but no sound came. It was stupid. All she had to do was call out and Dorotea would hear. Cesare’s security team wouldn’t let anyone on the premises without authority.
Yet logic was no match for fear, ingrained over years.
‘That’s better. I wouldn’t like you doing something rash because there’d be consequences.’
He paused and Ida could hear his cruel smile.
‘What do you want?’
‘You wouldn’t like anything to happen to Brunetti, would you?’
Dread was a blast of glacial air, shutting down her lungs and freezing her skin before seeping in to frost her bones. Ida’s chest heaved as she struggled to breathe, her blood rushing in her ears.
At last, she found her voice. ‘What are you saying?’
‘He just left, didn’t he? In that fast car of his, on these narrow roads. So easy to have an accident. A bit of gravel on the road, an unexpected oil slick on a curve. Or maybe a truck’s brakes failing at the wrong moment.’
Ida could see it too clearly. Now her blood iced too.
She remembered the malevolence in her grandfather’s eyes years before when he’d shoved her down the stairs, leaving her with concussion and a broken ankle. She thought of the people who’d died in the factory fire set on her grandfather’s orders. Of the rumours of other crimes.
‘I’m listening,’ she said, her voice not her own.
‘I thought you would be.’ He laughed, the sound like bones rattling. ‘You thought Brunetti would rescue you, didn’t you? As if he’d ever care for a Calogero.’
I’m not a Calogero.
‘Or is it the sex you like, you little slut?’
Fortunately something closed down inside Ida then. That same safety mechanism that had come to her rescue in the past when her grandfather started one of his diatribes. She heard the vile words but as if from a distance, so they didn’t register. Just the violence behind them.
Ida found herself shaking, great, racking shudders of distress. If he harmed Cesare...
‘What do you want?’
There was silence, as if her interruption surprised him.
‘I want you here.Now. There’s a car just beyond the gates. Walk down to it and let yourself out. You know the security code, I’m sure. If anyone asks, you’re just going for a stroll.’
Ida shook her head. He really thought he could order her around any more?
‘Don’t defy me, girl!’ His voice turned silky with threat. ‘Unless you want your lover to pay. I can arrange it so he doesn’t reach his office. Or maybe he’ll get there and something unfortunate will happen. A gas explosion maybe.’
Ida’s stomach churned with horror. Horror and a certainty her grandfather meant it. He never made empty threats.
She’d defied him by disappearing, ruining his plans. Meanwhile Cesare had somehow manoeuvred him out of the business and Fausto was being investigated by the police.
‘Don’t hurt him!’
A rusty chuckle filled her ear. ‘Well, we’ll have to see, won’t we? Come to me and I promise he’ll be safe for now. I have a new plan and you’ll help me. You owe me.’
Ida swayed, bracing herself against the table.