Page 16 of The Honeymoon Heist

“Okay, but let’s at least go meet the church people. I don’t want to stand them up, and we can get some breakfast.”

She said, “Honestly, I’m not really that hungry after last night.”

I started to answer when someone knocked on the door.What now?

I went down to it and answered, seeing an Italian in a rumpled suit. No uniform, but he held out a badge.

He said, “My name is Luca Russo. I work for an Italian police taskforce. Can I ask you some questions?”

I said, “About what? I already talked to the police.”

He said, “Please. It won’t take but a moment. I just have some questions.”

I opened the door, saying, “We have an appointment in ten minutes.”

He entered, flicked his eyes to me, sizing me up without showing he was sizing me up. He had an air about him that wasn’t just some flunky following a missed question from earlier.

He said, “Yes, I know. You’re going to the church to survey the Roman excavations. I’ll be quick.”

I said, “How did you know that?”

He walked down the hall, ignoring my real question, saying, “It’s my job to know. I’m a detective.”

I followed him, seeing Jennifer give me a questioning glance. I shrugged and pointed at him. He took a seat, crossed his legs, then saw my curiosity about his knowledge of our meeting. He said, “Okay, I talked to the officers that were here before coming up.”

I nodded, remembering I’d discussed the meeting with the earlier policemen. He continued, “You want to tell me what happened here last night?”

I said, “We’ve already done that to about a thousand cops. Why are you here?”

“I work for an organized crime taskforce in Naples. The people who died here tonight are not ‘break into a hotel for some jewelry’ types. They’re enforcers. They work for a guy named Lorenzo Salvatore. He’s a boss in organized crime with a veneer of respectability in society.”

I looked at Jennifer, then back at him, saying, “What does that have to do with us?”

“That’s why I’m here. What, in fact, does it have to do with you?”

“Nothing. We’re here on our honeymoon. That’s all.”

He pulled out a photograph and placed it in front of me. Clearly a screengrab from a restaurant’s surveillance camera, it showed a couple of older men sitting with the two pipe-hitters who had broken into our hotel room. He said, “Do you know them?”

“Never seen them. Who are they?”

“A couple of Americans here in town. I don’t know who they are, but they met the same gentlemen you did tonight, although their meeting was a little more amicable.”

I passed the picture to Jennifer, and she shook her head. Amena leaned over and said, “That guy was in the art gallery with us yesterday.”

I said, “Are you sure? That’s the same guy?”

“Yeah. He was even wearing the same clothes.”

Luca said, “What gallery?”

“Just a gallery down near the beach. We didn’t plan to go there. It wasn’t a destination. We just saw it and went in.”

Luca said, “So this guy was either following you, or this is another coincidence. They seem to be piling up, like the men here tonight.”

I raised my hands and said, “Look, I have no idea why those men would break into our hotel. We didn’t do anything but look at some pictures in an art gallery. We’re lucky to be alive, and we’re going home now because of it.”

He plucked something off of his leg, looked at it, then flicked it aside, as if he were killing time. He came back to me and said, “Youarelucky to be alive. The two who died are killers. I suspect between them they’ve murdered over a dozen people. They solve Salvatore’s problems permanently, which means they believed you were a problem. Why is that?”

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