“Come. I have your table ready.” He led them across the lawn to a table set apart from the others. Pink roses grew at the base of the stone ruins that ran the length of the parklike grounds. Paolo pulled out a chair for Remi, while Sam took the chair next to hers, sitting so that his back was to the wall. After exchanging pleasantries, Paolo left to see to his other guests.
Forty-five minutes later, with no word from Georgia’s contact, Sam and Remi decided to order without him. They’d just finished their meal when he finally arrived.
Luca, as he introduced himself, was dressed in a custom suit, the crisp white shirt open at the collar. He was in his late forties, his brown hair peppered with gray. “I had hoped to be here before now,” he said, sitting in the chair next to Sam’s, his dark eyes darting from side to side as he took in everyone seated around them. “I tried calling your mobile but couldn’t get through. I was told you wouldn’t leave without me, so I came as soon as I was able.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Sam said. “You’re here now. Have a bite to eat.”
“I wish I could, but I really do need to get going.”
“At least stay for the tiramisu,” Remi said. “It’s my favorite in all of Rome.”
As if on cue, Paolo appeared with a third serving of the dessert, which he placed in front of Luca, before picking up Sam’s credit card. Luca took a bite, his eyes widening. “Oh, that is good.” He took another bite, finished it off, before sitting back, with a sigh, grateful for the espresso served along with it. “Makes me wish I’d been here for the entire meal.”
Sam moved the conversation back on track. “Our friend was telling us that you have information on an upcoming auction of an early-model Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost?”
“Please don’t take this the wrong way. I took the liberty of looking into your backgrounds on the internet. You seem like a nice couple, unlike the people who generally attend. They don’t care much about where the car came from or returning lost property to its rightful owner. In fact, some of them are as likely to kill to get what they want as they are to pull out their checkbooks.”
“We’re extremely careful,” Sam said. “Is documentation provided?”
“Not for this auction. The less documentation, the better. The success depends on the absolute anonymity of the buyers and the sellers. The broker who handles these transactions would never reveal the information. This is, how do you Americans say it? The big league.”
“How do we get in touch with this broker?”
He studied Sam a moment as though weighing his decision on what he should say. “It’s ten thousand euros cash, in denominations of twenties, just to walk in the door—if you have an invitation. The latter I can get you for another ten thousand. I prefer mine in hundreds. Easier to carry.”
“That’s a pretty steep price,” Sam said.
“Take it or leave it.”
“We’ll take it. Where do you want to meet?”
“If you have pen and paper . . .”
Remi handed both to him, as Paolo walked up, whispering something in Sam’s ear. “I’ll be right there,” Sam said. Paolo smiled, stood back a few feet as Sam turned to Luca, saying, “What time?”
“Half past nine. The auction starts at ten.”
“Until then.”
“The address,” Luca said, handing pen and paper back to her. “Thank you for the tiramisu. I’ll see the both of you tonight. With the cash.” He pushed his chair back, stood. “If I didn’t mention, it’s black-tie.”
“Ten thousand euros?” Remi said, after he left.
“A small price if it gets us the information we need,” Sam said, as Paolo again walked up, now holding a small machine. He showed Sam the receipt it had printed. “Declined?” Sam said. He handed Paolo a different card. That was also declined, as was Remi’s.
Paolo gave them an apologetic smile. “Sometimes these machines are finicky.”
“Don’t worry about it. Maybe some computer glitch somewhere.” Sam paid with cash instead.
“We better call Selma,” Remi said, taking out her cell phone. “If anyone can figure it out, she can.” Her call wouldn’t connect. “Luca did say he couldn’t get through to us. Maybe we’re too far out from the city center. You try,
Sam.”
He did. Same result. “Hate to bother you, Paolo. May I borrow your phone?”
“Of course. Right this way.”
Sam and Remi followed him across the lawn. Remi waited outside, while Paolo showed Sam the phone, then left to attend to customers. Sam returned about five minutes later, his expression diplomatically neutral.