Chapter 28

“You’re looking well, Grandmother,” I said. And so she was. She was fairly tall for an Italian woman of her generation, very thin, and carried herself rather rigidly with an air of authority. As usual, she was dressed rather elegantly in black and wore a minimum of jewelry and makeup—her silver hair was worn in a chignon.

“Thank you, Marco. I get by. Hello, Dani, and look at these three boys, they are growing like the weeds in my garden.”

“ConteMarco,” Giuseppe said, “are there any bags?”

“Only the one rolling behind me, plus my briefcase and laptop carrying case,” I said. “They’re just inside the door of the plane.”

He retrieved the bags, and the door of the plane was quickly closed. As soon as we’d moved far enough away for safety, the plane taxied back to the runway and was evidently cleared for takeoff, because it was out of sight in minutes.

“Someone’s in a hurry,” Giuseppe said.

“There are four people on board who have an urgent need to be in Rome,” I said.