Gina nodded. ‘Of course, but I’m sure you won’t find any problems. The helipad – like everything at the White Palace – is maintained to the highest standard.’
‘I’d like to confirm that for myself,’ Marco returned, his tone polite but firm.
Gina bristled, alert to any potential criticism of the hotel. ‘I understand, but you must be quick and discreet. I don’t want my guests to be disturbed.’
‘It’ll take as long as it needs to take,’ Marco shot back. ‘If it’s a choice between my client’s safety or inconveniencing your guests while they drink a Spritz, I know which one I’ll go for.’
What an arrogant asshole, Gina thought. Just because he was Brad Redford’s stunt double, he thought he was a VIP too. She was in charge around here, and the sooner this guy realized that, the better.
The atmosphere was charged; she noticed Edoardo smirking, looking at her admiringly, and wondered what the story was there. Who were these two guys?
‘I thought it would be good for Marco to take a look at everything while he’s here,’ explained Brad, trying to smooth things over.
‘Sure,’ Gina forced a smile, knowing she couldn’t possibly say no to any request from Brad Redford.
‘Papà, I want to look round the hotel too,’ Daniela whispered, tugging on Marco’s sleeve. ‘You said we could.’
‘I know, cara, but we might not have time. Let’s see later. You know I have to do some work first.’
‘But Papà …’ Daniela began.
‘I can take her if you want,’ Issy offered, glancing across at Brad to check that he had no objections. ‘You don’t need me for this bit. I can give her the grand tour, then bring her back when you’ve finished.’
‘Would you?’ Marco looked uncertain.
‘Please Papà!’ Daniela begged.
‘Well … It would make things much easier.’
‘Then that’s settled.’ Issy smiled. ‘We could even go down to the bar and get gelato.’
Daniela’s mouth fell open. ‘I love gelato!’
‘If you’re sure we’re not imposing?’
‘Not at all. OK with you, Brad?’
‘I want gelato,’ Brad grinned.
‘Work first, gelato later.’ Issy grinned back.
‘Thanks so much, Issy,’ Marco smiled gratefully, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners. ‘I appreciate it.’
‘I’ll come with you if you like,’ Gina heard herself say, though she wasn’t sure why. She had a million and one things to do today, and this was definitely not on the agenda, but Brad Redford always used the hotel, and she intended that he always would, despite his demanding stuntman.
‘You’re not too busy?’ Brad said.
‘Never too busy for our VIP clients,’ Gina said, smiling at Daniela, who grinned back. ‘Lead the way.’
Chapter 8
Lombardy, February 1995
Dario Capello leaned forwards, adjusting his bodyweight to the steep incline, panting lightly with exertion and from the bulkiness of his backpack as he made his way up the sheer side of the mountain from the foothills below. The surrounding countryside was beautiful, with picturesque villages clinging to the Alpine slopes, plateaus of densely wooded areas, dazzling blue lakes nestled in the higher reaches, and snow on the ancient granite peaks. Right now, Dario and his fellow climber, Giuseppe Agostini, were working their way slowly up the craggy and dangerous rock face, skywards towards the peak.
Dario stopped to catch his breath, squinting as he looked around, trying to find a crag or outcrop against which to anchor himself while he thought about his next step. Below him, Giuseppe stopped too, waiting as Dario scoped out the rocks above.
‘I just hope, when we get to the top, it’s where we think we should be, and we haven’t taken a wrong turn.’
‘All roads lead to Rome, amico,’ shrugged Giuseppe, as he squinted in the sunlight.
‘I hope not. We’re supposed to be in Lombardy.’
‘The only way now is up,’ Giuseppe grinned.
Dario rolled his eyes at the bad joke. ‘Anyway, we’re about halfway up now,’ Dario said. ‘I think there is a ledge above me. Hang on, I can get a handle on it and pull myself over.’
Dario worked quickly; the only sounds that could be heard were tuneful birdsong, and the occasional crack of small rocks bouncing down to the ravine below.
Dario and Giuseppe were amateur hikers who regularly donned their walking gear to explore the peaks around Como and beyond. Today was the first time they’d been out for a few weeks. Since the beginning of the year, the weather had been cool and rainy, but this weekend’s forecast had been perfect – a clear, bright, dry day, ideal for a walk and a climb – so they’d pulled on their waterproofs and climbing boots and set off. They both loved a challenge, but today had been harder and slower than they’d expected, the almost sheer rock face offering fewer handholds or anchor points than they’d have liked.
Feeling along the ledge, Dario hauled himself over its rim, unsure of what he would find there. He was hoping that it would be wide enough for them to sit down on and take in the view; take a few minutes’ break before they pushed on to the next point.
‘Puttana,’ Dario swore, as his sunglasses slipped from where he’d settled them on top of his head, tumbling into the ravine below, distracting him for a moment.
Giuseppe laughed from below. ‘Forget them, my friend. They’ve gone.’
Dario swore again, peering into the gully below. They’d cost him two hundred thousand lire, but he knew that Giuseppe was right. They were gone, and there was no way to reach them.
