slung round your neck to leave your hands free.’
She laughed. ‘I’m not a burglar, Mr Halloran, I just don’t like shoes very much; and I have been on yachts before.’
I moved towards her. She was tall, almost as tall as myself. I judged her to be in her late twenties or possibly, but improbably, her early thirties. Her lips were pale and she wore very little make-up. She was a very beautiful woman.
‘You have the advantage of me,’ I said.
‘I am the Contessa di Estrenoli.’
I gestured at the settee. ‘Well, sit down, Contessa.’
‘Not Contessa – Madame,’ she said, and sat down, pulling the dress over her knees with one hand and placing the shoes at her side. ‘In our association together you will call me Madame.’
I sat down slowly on the opposite settee. Metcalfe certainly came up with some surprises. I said carefully, ‘So we are going to be associated together? I couldn’t think of a better person to be associated with. When do we start?’
There was frost in her voice. ‘Not the kind of association you are obviously thinking of, Mr Halloran.’ She went off at a tangent. ‘I saw your … er … companions ashore. They didn’t see me – I wanted to talk to you alone.’
‘We’re alone,’ I said briefly.
She gathered her thoughts, then said precisely, ‘Mr Halloran, you have come to Italy with Mr Coertze and Mr Walker to remove something valuable from the country. You intend to do this illicitly and illegally, therefore your whole plan depends on secrecy; you cannot – shall we say ‘operate’ – if someone is looking over your shoulder. I intend to look over your shoulder.’
I groaned mentally. Metcalfe had the whole story. Apparently the only thing he didn’t know was where the treasure was hidden. This girl was quite right when she said that it couldn’t be lifted if we were under observation, so he was coming right out and asking for a cut. Walker really must have talked in Tangier if Metcalfe could pinpoint it as close as Rapallo.
I said, ‘O.K., Contessa; how much does Metcalfe want?’
She raised her winged eyebrows. ‘Metcalfe?’
‘Yes, Metcalfe; your boss.’
She shook her head. ‘I know of no Metcalfe, whoever he is. And I am my own boss, I assure you of that.’
I think I kept my face straight. The surprises were certainly piling up. If this Estrenoli woman was mixed up with Metcalfe, then why would she deny it? If she wasn’t then who the devil was she – and how did she know of the treasure?’
I said, ‘Supposing I tell you to jump over the side?’
She smiled. ‘Then you will never get these valuables out of Italy.’
There seemed to be a concession there, so I said, ‘And if I don’t tell you to jump over the side, then we will get the stuff out of the country, is that it?’
‘Some of it,’ she compromised. ‘But without my cooperation you will spend a long time in an Italian prison.’
That was certainly something to think about and when I had time. I said, ‘All right; who are you, and what do you know?’
‘I knew that the news was out on the waterfront to watch for the yacht Sanford. I knew that the yacht was owned by Mr Halloran and that Mr Coertze and Mr Walker were his companions. That was enough for me.’
‘And what has the Contessa di Estrenoli got to do with waterfront rumours? What has an Italian aristocrat got to do with the jailbirds that news was intended for?’
She smiled and said, ‘I have strange friends, Mr Halloran. I learn all that is interesting on the waterfront. I realize now that perhaps your Mr Metcalfe was responsible for the circulation of those instructions.’
‘So you learned that a yacht and three men were coming to Rapallo, and you said to yourself, “Ah, these three men are coming to take something out of Italy illegally,”’ I said with heavy irony. ‘You’ll have to do better than that, Contessa.’
‘But you see, I know Mr Coertze and Mr Walker,’ she said. ‘The heavy and clumsy Mr Coertze has been to Italy quite often. I have always known about him and I always had him watched.’ She smiled. ‘He was like a dog at a rabbit hole who yelps because it is too small and he cannot get in. He always left Italy empty-handed.’
That did it. Coertze must have shown his hand on one of his periodic trips to Italy. But how the devil did she know Walker? He hadn’t been to Italy recently – or had he?
She continued. ‘So when I heard that Mr Coertze was returning with Mr Walker and the unknown Mr Halloran, then I knew that something big was going to happen. That you were ready to take away whatever was buried, Mr Halloran.’
‘So you don’t know exactly what we’re after?’
‘I know that it is very valuable,’ she said simply.
‘I might be an archaeologist,’ I said.
She laughed. ‘No, you are not an archaeologist, Mr Halloran; you are a boat-builder.’ She saw the surprise in my eyes, and added, ‘I know a lot about you.’
I said, ‘Let’s quit fencing; how do you know about whatever it is?’
She said slowly, ‘A man called Alberto Corso had been writing a letter to my father. He was killed before the letter was finished, so there was not all the information that could be desired. But there was enough for me to know that Mr Coertze must be watched.’
I snapped my fingers. ‘You’re the Count’s little daughter. You’re … er … Francesca.’
She inclined her head. ‘I am the daughter of a count.’
‘Not so little now,’ I said. ‘So the Count is after the loot.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Oh, no. My father knows nothing about it. Nothing at all.’
I thought that could do with a bit of explanation and was just going to query the statement when someone jumped on deck. ‘Who is that?’ asked the Contessa.
‘Probably the others coming back,’ I said, and waited. Perhaps there were to be some more surprises before the evening was out.
Walker came down the companionway and stopped when he saw her. ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘I hope I’m not butting in.’
I said, ‘This is the Contessa di Estrenoli – Mr Walker.’ I watched him to see if he recognized her, but he didn’t. He looked at her as one looks at a beautiful woman and said, in Italian, ‘A pleasure, signora.’
She smiled at him and said, ‘Don’t you know me, Mr Walker? I bandaged your leg when you were brought into the hill camp during the war.’
He looked at her closely and said incredulously, ‘Francesca!’
‘That’s
