“I see. You’ll be able to help us?”
“Of course. You simply want to examine the crypt? You don’t plan to move it?”
“No.”
“Then it should be very simple. However, just to be safe, we should wait until it is dark. We Elbans are a nosy lot. Have you a place to stay?”
“Not yet.”
“Then you’ll stay with us, my wife and me.”
Sam said, “We don’t want to—”
“No imposition. You’ll be my guest. We’ll have some supper, then I’ll take you to the graveyard.”
“Thank you.”
“May we use your office for a few minutes?”
“Of course. Take as much time as you need.”
Cipriani left, shutting the door behind him. Sam pulled out their satellite phone and punched in Selma’s number, then waited through twenty seconds of clicks and buzzes. Selma’s voice came on the line: “Mr. Fargo. Everything okay?”
“So far. Any trouble there?”
“All’s quiet.”
“I need you to check a license plate for me. Could be tricky; we’re on Elba. If you have trouble, call Rube Haywood.” He gave her the number to Cipriani’s office.
“Okay, I’ll see what I can do. Be back to you shortly.”
She called back twenty minutes later. “Took some doing, but as it turns out the Italian DMV database isn’t exactly what I’d call hacker-proof.”
“Good to know,” Sam said.
“The plate belongs to a tan Peugeot, correct?”
“That’s it.”
“Then I have bad news. It’s registered to a Polizia Provinciale officer. The Provincial Police. I’m sending you the specifics right now.”
Sam waited three minutes until the e-mail finally arrived, scanned the contents, then thanked Selma and hung up. He filled Remi in. “Either I’ve been speeding and haven’t realized it, or someone’s interested in us,” he said.
“If it were official they would have stopped us at the ferry in Rio Marina,” she replied.
“Agreed.”
“Well, at least we got some warning.”
“And we know what our other pursuer’s face looks like.”
At Cipriani’s suggestion they spent an hour exploring Rio nell’Elba, but they did so warily, taking care to stay within the village limits and close to crowds. They saw no sign of either the Peugeot or its occupants.
Strolling arm in arm, Sam said, “Been thinking about what Yvette said—that she suspected Kholkov had already been here looking for Laurent’s crypt. Bondaruk knew we’d come here eventually. It was a logical step.”
“So he sits back and lets us do the heavy lifting,” Remi replied.
“It’s the smart move,” Sam said.