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The Doomsday Conspiracy :: Sheldon Sidney
Страница: 181 из 213Memorieshit him like a blast of cold air. He had walked here with Susan, exploring the little side streets, and strolled down Via Ignazio Cerio and Via di Campo. It had been a magic time. They visited the Grotta Azzurra, and had morning coffee at the Piazza Umberto. They took the funicular up to Anacapri, and rode donkeys to Villa Jovis, Tiberius’s villa, and swam in the emerald green waters at the Marina Piccola. They shopped along Via Vittorio Emanuele and took the chair lift to the top of Monte Solaro, their feet skimming over the vine leaves and leafy trees. Off to the right they could see the houses sprinkled down the hillside toward the sea, yellow broom covering the ground, an eleven-minute ride through a colourful fairyland of green trees, white houses and, in the distance, the blue sea. At the top, they had coffee at the Barbarossa Ristorante, and then went into the little church in Anacapri to thank God for all their blessings, and for each other. Robert had thought then that the magic was Capri. He had been wrong. The magic was Susan, and the magician had left the stage.
Robert went back to the funicular station at the Piazza Umberto, and took the tram down, quietly mingling with the other passengers. When the funicular arrived at the bottom, he walked out, carefully avoiding the ticket seller. He went over to the kiosk at the boat landing. In a heavy Spanish accent, Robert asked, “A que horn sale el barco a Ischia?”
“Sale en treinta minutos.”
“Gracias.” Robert bought a ticket.
He walked into a bar at the waterfront, took a seat in the back and nursed a scotch. By now they would have undoubtedly found the car, and the hunt for him would narrow. He spread out the map of Europe in his mind. The logical thing for him to do would be to head for England, and find a way to get back to the States. It would make no sense for him to return to France. So, France it is, Robert thought. A busy seaport to leave Italy from. Civitavecchia. I have to get to Civitavecchia. The Halcyon.
He got change from the owner of the bar, and used the telephone. It took the marine operator ten minutes to put his call through. Susan was on the line almost immediately.
“We’ve been waiting to hear from you.” We. He found that interesting. “The engine is fixed. We can be in Naples early in the morning. Where shall we pick you up?”
It was too risky for the Halcyon to come here. Robert said, “Do you remember the palindrome? We went there on our honeymoon.”
“The what?”
“I made a joke about it because I was so exhausted.
Robert went back to the funicular station at the Piazza Umberto, and took the tram down, quietly mingling with the other passengers. When the funicular arrived at the bottom, he walked out, carefully avoiding the ticket seller. He went over to the kiosk at the boat landing. In a heavy Spanish accent, Robert asked, “A que horn sale el barco a Ischia?”
“Sale en treinta minutos.”
“Gracias.” Robert bought a ticket.
He walked into a bar at the waterfront, took a seat in the back and nursed a scotch. By now they would have undoubtedly found the car, and the hunt for him would narrow. He spread out the map of Europe in his mind. The logical thing for him to do would be to head for England, and find a way to get back to the States. It would make no sense for him to return to France. So, France it is, Robert thought. A busy seaport to leave Italy from. Civitavecchia. I have to get to Civitavecchia. The Halcyon.
He got change from the owner of the bar, and used the telephone. It took the marine operator ten minutes to put his call through. Susan was on the line almost immediately.
“We’ve been waiting to hear from you.” We. He found that interesting. “The engine is fixed. We can be in Naples early in the morning. Where shall we pick you up?”
It was too risky for the Halcyon to come here. Robert said, “Do you remember the palindrome? We went there on our honeymoon.”
“The what?”
“I made a joke about it because I was so exhausted.