JК
The English Assassin :: Silva Daniel
Страница: 162 из 209”
“She’s not going to back out, is she, Fiona?”
“She’s coming.”
“Because if she backs out on me, I’ll see to it that she never performs in Italy again.”
“She’ll be here, Zaccaria.”
Just then Anna entered the room, surrounded by Gabriel’s team.
“Anna! Darling!” breathed Cordoni. “You look absolutely delicious this evening. Is there anything else we can do for you to make tonight a smashing success?”
“I’d like to see the upper hall before the audience arrives.”
Cordoni held out his hand gallantly.
“Right this way.”
ANNA had performed at the San Rocco twice before, but in keeping with her pre-performance ritual she slowly toured the venue to make certain everything was to her liking-the placement of the stage and the piano, the arrangement of the seats, the lighting. Gabriel did the same, but for a very different reason.
When the inspection was complete, Cordoni led her through a doorway behind the stage into a large gallery with dark wood floors and tapestries on the walls. Adjacent to that room was a small parlor that would serve as Anna’s dressing room. A security man from the scuola stood guard at the door. He wore a burgundy-colored blazer.
“I’ve printed two programs for this evening’s performance,” Cordoni said carefully. “One with ‘The Devil’s Trill’ and one without it. The doors will be opening in five minutes.”
Anna looked at Gabriel, then at Fiona Richardson. “I’m not sure an evening in Venice would be complete without Tartini. Hand out the program with ‘The Devil’s Trill.’ ”
“You’re sure, Anna?” asked Fiona.
“Positive.”
“As you wish,” said Zaccaria Cordoni.
WHEN Cordoni and Fiona Richardson were gone, Anna removed her coat and opened the case containing the Guarneri. When Gabriel sat down, Anna looked at him, hands on her hips.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m going to stay here with you.”
“No, you’re not. I need to be alone before a performance. I can’t have you here distracting me.”
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to make an exception tonight.”
“Tell me something, Gabriel. If you were restoring one of those Tintorettos out there, would you like me standing over your shoulder watching?”
“I see your point.”
“Good-now get out of here.
“She’s not going to back out, is she, Fiona?”
“She’s coming.”
“Because if she backs out on me, I’ll see to it that she never performs in Italy again.”
“She’ll be here, Zaccaria.”
Just then Anna entered the room, surrounded by Gabriel’s team.
“Anna! Darling!” breathed Cordoni. “You look absolutely delicious this evening. Is there anything else we can do for you to make tonight a smashing success?”
“I’d like to see the upper hall before the audience arrives.”
Cordoni held out his hand gallantly.
“Right this way.”
ANNA had performed at the San Rocco twice before, but in keeping with her pre-performance ritual she slowly toured the venue to make certain everything was to her liking-the placement of the stage and the piano, the arrangement of the seats, the lighting. Gabriel did the same, but for a very different reason.
When the inspection was complete, Cordoni led her through a doorway behind the stage into a large gallery with dark wood floors and tapestries on the walls. Adjacent to that room was a small parlor that would serve as Anna’s dressing room. A security man from the scuola stood guard at the door. He wore a burgundy-colored blazer.
“I’ve printed two programs for this evening’s performance,” Cordoni said carefully. “One with ‘The Devil’s Trill’ and one without it. The doors will be opening in five minutes.”
Anna looked at Gabriel, then at Fiona Richardson. “I’m not sure an evening in Venice would be complete without Tartini. Hand out the program with ‘The Devil’s Trill.’ ”
“You’re sure, Anna?” asked Fiona.
“Positive.”
“As you wish,” said Zaccaria Cordoni.
WHEN Cordoni and Fiona Richardson were gone, Anna removed her coat and opened the case containing the Guarneri. When Gabriel sat down, Anna looked at him, hands on her hips.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m going to stay here with you.”
“No, you’re not. I need to be alone before a performance. I can’t have you here distracting me.”
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to make an exception tonight.”
“Tell me something, Gabriel. If you were restoring one of those Tintorettos out there, would you like me standing over your shoulder watching?”
“I see your point.”
“Good-now get out of here.