My Gold Cup came up.

  I fired He went face forward against the tree where he had been leaning. The top of his head was gone, my bullet had caught him in the back of that head and plowed a path right through it.

  I slid toward him, reached out and drew the tommy-gun from his fingers. His body was half kneeling, half lying against the base of the tree-bole. He had no more use for the tommy-gun.

  But I did.

  I tucked the strap about me so it would be out of the way as I wriggled onward. Next man I saw I would shoot with the tommy-gun, making the rest of the guys think one of their number had made a mistake and shot down a fellow button.

  So far, all they’d heard was the sound of the Colt. They must be imagining that Gion Sparlo had that Colt, to go along with his hunting rifle.

  Nobody suspected little old me.

  I found a third man in a little while, kneeling and trying to look between the trees. He was facing my direction, too, but his eyes were off at an angle. I eased the tommy-gun around very carefully, drew a bead on him and ripped off half a dozen shots.

  He went backward as if a huge hand had grabbed him. His left foot kicked a couple of times, then he lay still.

  Charley bellowed, “Who in hell was that?”

  Nobody answered him. Louie, Eddie and this last man I’d done for, couldn’t; that left Charley and one man who were still alive. I poked the gun muzzle between some trees and ripped off a few shots at Charley.

  He yelled, screaming like a frightened old lady.

  I rolled over until I was twenty feet from the tommy-gun, then started toward Charley with the Gold Cup naked in a fist. Charley would be in a blue funk right about now. I inched closer, closer.

  My left hand closed on a stone. I threw it. It hit a tree and bounced. A tommy-gun opened up and riddled that poor tree so that I could see the chips fly. I didn’t look at them for more than a split second, I let off two shots at the dark shadow that was Charley.

  I heard Charley grunt twice just as his knees started to sag. He turned a face in my direction. I don’t know whether he saw me or not, his face was white by starlight, frozen like a death mask. He continued to sag until he lost his balance and flopped to lie face down.

  I didn’t think he was playing possum, but I had to make certain. I used my elbows to bring me closer until my hand went out to him and turned him over.

  His eyes were open, sightless, staring at the sky. There was no heartbeat. Up in front of me, somebody opened fire with a tommy-gun right at me. Bullets sprayed the ground, they thudded into Charley, they made a thunder in the cool mountain air.

  When he stopped shooting, the quiet was deafening.

  It was a goddamn miracle I hadn’t been hit. True, I made a very slight target, huddled up against Charley as I had been. He had seen Charley, I think, and fired at him, believing him to be Gion.

  He came running now, the last man of them all, a husky Sicilian. He had no use for quiet, he believed he had nailed the man they were after.

  He slid to a stop, stared down at Charley’s dead face. I don’t think he even saw me, he was too intent on Charley.

  “Oh my God,” he muttered, and fell to a knee.

  I raised my gun-hand and the Gold Cup Colt. I shot him between the eyes when he turned a startled face toward me. I must have seemed like a ghost rising upward from the ground, to him. My hands pushed me to my feet. “Gion,” I called. “It’s all right. It’s Cherry.”

  No sound answered me, but after a while I heard a faint footstep and saw Gion coming down a little slope, half-hidden by the trees.

  He came toward me, his hunting rifle at the ready. “I got one of them, I saw their car pass earlier and recognized you in it. I’ve been waiting for them to come back ever since.”

  “You gave me the chance I needed,” I told him. “You put a bullet in Louie’s arms just when their bossman was tying me up. He didn’t bother, after that.”

  “You go back to the lodge, Cherry. Donna’s in a nervous sweat. I’m going to bury the bodies.”

  “They have a car, too.”

  “I know. I’ll put it beside the other one. Leave all that to me.”

  I trudged away from Gion who was already bending to lift Charley with a fireman’s hitch. I discovered I was not as tired as I had thought, as I walked. Emotionally drained, yes, but I strode along at a good pace. When I came in sight of the lodge I called out, for fear that Donna might lose her head and fire off a gun at me.

  She met me at the front door, tears in her eyes. “Gion? Is he all right?”

  “Safe and sound. I left him burying bodies. It must be getting to be a habit with him.”

  I made my way toward the bar and stirred myself a double martini. I sipped half of it without leaving the bar. The rest I carried to an easy chair where I flopped.

  Donna was staring at me with wide eyes. “Did you get them all? Is your job done?”

  “Not yet. Vince Rinaldi and Coogie—”

  I sat up straight. “Jeez! I forgot about them. Rinaldi said he was going to follow us. Maybe he did, maybe he’s out there in those woods with Gion!

  I ran like a scared rabbit, out the door, fumbling in my Gucci bag for my Gold Cup. I beat it back the way I had come, until I saw Gion returning for another body.

  My eyes had been scanning the woods as I ran. I saw no hint of Rinaldi or Mazzetta. Maybe I had been wrong about them, maybe Rinaldi hadn’t wanted Coogie to drive him here. But no matter. It was better to be safe than sorry.

  “Have you seen anybody in the woods?” I asked, and told him about my suspicions.

  “Haven’t seen a soul,” he told me cheerfully. “And I’d have seen anyone, or heard them. It’s been real quiet out here, I stopped a couple of times for breath, and listened. If anybody came up here, they’ve long since gone—or haven’t arrived yet.”

  “Yeah, there’s that possibility.”

  I took the keys from him and drove the Mercedes Benz in under the trees, where he showed me. He shooed me back to the lodge then, telling me he’d do the dirty work of getting rid of the evidence.

  I felt a little better as I wandered back inside the lodge to what was left of my double martini. I took a sip, made a face, emptied the glass and the melted ice, then mixed myself a new one.

  I had half of it in my middle when Gion came back. “I didn’t finish the job,” he smiled. “I’ll do that in the morning. I dragged the bodies out of the way and covered them with brush so nobody would see them, though.”

  He eyed my drink. “I think I’ll have one of those doubles. It’s just what I need.”

  Donna went over and stood beside him while he stirred gin and vermouth and put in ice cubes. I noted how she put her hand on his shoulder and pushed her body close to his in an attitude that suggested intimacy.

  He gave her a brief smile, then arched his eyebrows. She nodded and he reached for another glass. He made her a martini, too.

  “You know what those things do to you, Donna,” I said.

  “I know.” She half-turned her head, gave me an arch look with her eyes. “I had one here with Gion last night.”

  I sank deeper into the chair and thought about that, and what it might imply. It was no business of mine, of course, what Donna and Gion did when they were alone. Inside me, I was rooting for them both. They deserved some happiness, both of them, and I hoped they could find it with each other.

  When we were all sitting comfortably and sipping slowly, I began to talk. “We really ought to make plans, all three of us.”

  Donna looked startled. “What kind of plans?”

  “About your safety. I mean for both of you. You can’t stay here any longer.”

  “Why not?” Gion demanded.

  “I can’t be certain whether or not Vince Rinaldi followed our car. He sort of hinted he might. God knows he had enough time, because we spent the afternoon on a picnic and I even managed to get some shuteye before the buttons decided to attack.”

  Gion asked sharply, “You were here that long? Yes, yes. I guess you were. I saw your car go by, and it seemed forever before you came back. I didn’t see anybody else, though.”

  “I could be wrong. Maybe Rinaldi didn’t come here. But he’s a shrewd cookie, he doesn’t take defeat lying down. It would be just like him to observe what happened out of sight.”

  I gave a little shiver. “If he did, he knows I fought with you against his men. He won’t like that for beans. And I’ve got to go back and report to him.”

  “Why do you have to do that, Cherry?” Donna asked. “Stay here with us. If they come again, you and Gion will be ready for them.”

  “Love to. But I can’t spend the rest of my days with you two, no matter how tempting the offer is. My job is to get Coogie and Vince. I can’t take a chance that they’ll come here, so I’ve got to force the issue.”

  They argued with me for a time, enough for Gion and me to have another martini, though I noticed Donna nursed hers. The upshot of it was, they agreed with me that I had to go back, and that they wouldn’t stay here any longer.

  “I have a grandfather who lives on a hillside farm in the Campania beyond Benevento. It’s quite a large farm, he’s made a good living from it.”

  He paused to sip his drink, his eyes thoughtful.

  “When I first came here from the States, I went to see him. My father, his son, had left the old farm to make his way in the United States. He’d never come back. Now here I was, his grandson, returning to shake his hand and share his meals with him.

  “He was delighted. He even wept, a little. But I saw soon enough that I couldn’t stay with him. It was too dangerous for him. So I ran away, came here. He has no other living children or grandchildren, outside my two sisters in the States who are happily married and will never return.

  “My grandfather offered to give me his farm. He’s changing his will, leaving it to me, as a matter of fact. But he’s growing old, Cherry. It’s been in the back of my head to go to him when and if this thing ever gets settled, and take up life there on that farm.”

  He gave me a brief smile. “I’d like that, running a farm. It’s something I always wanted to do, just didn’t have the guts. Now I have a ready-made farm, all mine if I say the word.”

  “It sounds great,” I enthused, not looking at Donna, “just as long as Vince Rinaldi doesn’t learn about it.”

  “He won’t. If he knew of the connection, he’d have been out at that farm, using my grandfather to get at me. Oh, no. It’s a well kept secret.”

  “That’s a load off my mind. You two’ll be out of the way and very safe.” I turned and looked at Donna for the first time in several minutes. “You will go, won’t you, Donna?”

  She nodded happily, flushing a little, eyes glowing. Gion coughed to clear his throat.

  “Donna likes farm life, she’s told me,” he said.

  “My grandfather will love her.”

  As Gion already does, I thought wryly.

  “Then that’s settled. I don’t have to worry about you two.”

  How wrong I was! But that was to come later.

  I finished my drink, put down the glass and got to my feet. “I’m going to sleep. I have to be up and out of here early in the morning, to go back to Vince Rinaldi and report.”

  Donna got up in alarm. “That’ll be too dangerous.”

  I grinned. “I can handle Rinaldi, and Coogie too. They don’t worry me.”

  Gion asked dubiously, “Suppose he charges you with fighting for me against him?”

  “I’m just going back to kill them both.”

  A little chill came into the room. Donna looked at Gion and he stared at her. Gion cleared his throat.

  “About that two million bucks.”

  “What about it?”

  “I want you to take it back to the States with you when you go. I want it to be given back to the family from whom Rinaldi was going to steal it. It’s the only right thing to do.”

  “Okay, I’ll take it with me.”

  He shook his head. “When Rinaldi and Coogie are dead. I don’t want them jumping you and getting the money.”

  I stared at him, then shrugged. “Okay. Fair enough. But where can I find you?”

  He gave me directions on how to find his grandfather’s farm. I copied them on a slip of paper and tucked it into my wallet that I slipped back into the Gucci bag, yawning all the time.

  After that, I stumbled toward my bedroom.

  In the morning, Donna and Gion were up long before I managed to throw back the covers and put my bare feet out on a carpet. Typical farm people, I told myself as I shivered my way to a washstand and doused my face and hands with soap and water.

  Donna had eggs and sausages cooking as I came into the kitchen. Gion was in the bedroom, packing the things they would need on their trip to the farm, she informed me. Just as soon as I’d gone, Gion was going to close the place up and take off.

  They were like little kids going on a picnic, at the breakfast table. They talked excitedly of milking cows and gathering eggs, of plowing and scything, of planting and harvesting. Donna had had a garden in the backyard of her home in New York, she loved growing things. They sure seemed ideally suited.

  I felt a little left out of things, so I sipped my coffee and ate my toast while they chattered on.

  At last I could delay things no more. “I’m off, you two. Keep your eyes peeled for Vince Rinaldi, Gion, and keep a gun close at hand. I hope you don’t have to use it, but you never know.”

  They walked to where Rinaldi’s men had left the car. I got in and started the engine.

  I left them standing by the side of the road, waving their arms and yelling their farewells. I waved with my arm out the open window, but all the time my eyes were touching the woods around me, wondering if Vince Rinaldi might be hiding there with Coogie Mazzetta.

  They could be here, waiting. But I didn’t think so. Rinaldi wasn’t the sort of man to shiver in cold mountain woods all night long just to get a shot off.

  He would go back to his comfortable villa—if he had been up here at all, I was only guessing about that planning to hit Gion Sparlo when and where he least expected it.

  I drove through a cloudy day into rain squalls. I hate days like this, where the weather seems to press down on my spirits. I always feel sleepy about mid day, too, so that I have to fight off the urge to take a nap.

  My jaw was overworked, yawning, as I pushed the Mercedes-Benz to seventy miles an hour. The car responded beautifully, it had a lot of power. I concocted my story as I drove along.

  I would tell the truth to a certain extent, when Vince Rinaldi asked me what had happened. Charley had tied me up, I would say, and left me in the car while he and the other buttons went to kill Gion.

  I heard a lot of gunshots, then silence.

  It took me all night long, I did some sleeping, too, before I could wriggle free of those bonds. I went hunting in the woods for Charley and the others, but I never saw them. After that I got into the car and headed back to tell Rinaldi what had happened.

  I could do that, of course.

  Also, I could just yank out my Gold Cup Colt and begin shooting. My job now was to execute Vince Rinaldi and Coogie Mazzetta. Gion was to turn over the two million bucks to me, I would kiss him and Donna farewell, and go back to the States for another assignment.

  This was what I had planned as I drove along. It didn’t work out that way at all.

  Because when I finally swung into the curving drive of the villa that Vince Rinaldi rented, there was an abandoned look about the place. No cars stood in the drive, the shades were drawn on all the windows. Nothing stirred, there was no sound but the light rain coming down.

  I went to the front door large as life and hammered on it. Vince Rinaldi had to be here! If he weren’t, it might mean that he had stayed overnight in those woods just to get a shot off at Gion.

  God knows what he would do to Donna! If he’d stayed as I was beginning to suspect he had, he’d know that Donna was no rape victim as I’d claimed. He’d also know that I had done a lot of killing of his men, and would shoot me on sight, the way one might gun down a mad dog.

  The door was locked. I ran around the house, and finally found one of the patio French doors unlocked. I pushed it open and went in.

  The house was empty. I searched here and there and found plenty of evidence that Rinaldi and Coogie were still here. As occupants, that is. Where were they now? I bit my lower lip until it almost bled, trying to think, to decide.

  I peered out the windows at the rain. It was coming down harder and I shivered. I didn’t care too much about going out in that downpour. On the other hand, I could hardly stay here.

  But then again, why not? I would be comfortable here, Rinaldi and Coogie would be back sooner or later, and I could wait and shoot them.

  There was one thing very wrong with this plan. If I did that, they would have already shot down Donna and Gion, most likely. And I didn’t want that to happen, not nohow.

  I said naughty words under my breath. And the telephone rang, shrilly.

  CHAPTER TEN

  I ran to the phone, put my hand on it, then hesitated. Ought I answer it? Who was calling? Would they recognize my voice? I was in agony, frankly, trying to decide.

  Then I lifted the phone. It has always been my habit to attack difficult situations head on, and hope for a break. But I decided to speak in Italian. I had spoken to Vince Rinaldi in good old American, I figured that if he heard me speaking in Italian, he might not recognize my voice.

  I put the phone to my ear.

  “Where the hell are you, you punk?” Vince Rinaldi rasped in my ear. “I told you to come back for me!

  “Non capisco.”

  There was a sudden silence. Then Rinaldi said, “Who the hell is this? No, wait. Il mio nome e Rinaldi.” He went on to add, “I rent the villa. Are you at the villa now?”

  “I’m a cleaning woman, signor.”

  “Isn’t Coo—isn’t Mister Mazetta there?”

  “No, signor. He’s not here.”

  Almost under his breath he whispered, “He’s with that whore. Goddamn him!”

 

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