Beyond The Island Page 23

  ‘That’s thoughtful of you Fabio; I really appreciate your concern but you know I can take care of myself. You must not feel responsible. If I hadn’t met Tom and started all this your life would be a lot simpler.’

  ‘My dearest Joanne,’ Fabio’s face lengthened. ‘I believed we shared a certain understanding? How do you say...sympatica is the term in French? Maybe I am mistaken?’

  Her heart missed a beat. ‘Oh Fabio! I just feel bad for getting you into all this.’ Impulsively, taking no heed of the public street she placed a hand on his arm, reached up and lightly kissed his cheek. Fabio responded, holding onto to her lest she break away and a passing scooter honked his horn in approval. Joanne smiled and looked into Fabio’s eyes. ‘Was that a good enough answer?’

  As the urgency of their mission impacted Fabio released her. ‘We must catch Marco before he gets wind of our visit,’ he said.

  Quickly Joanne slid onto the car seat. ‘I’ll explain later why I asked about fish. It was a long shot which might just pay off.’

  Emotion deepened Fabio’s voice. ‘You’ll have to keep out of sight Joanne. I’m a stranger so I’ll get him talking and buy him drinks; make it a casual enquiry about the fish.’ He paused, ‘So why don’t I drive you to Gianni’s? I’ll go as fast as I can and meet you for a there afterwards. What do you think?’ He started the engine but kept it idle.

  Joanne considered. ‘How about dropping me down at the harbour? I know where Marco’s boat is. If he’s working on it I can ring you. Don’t worry. I’d keep out of sight. I could take photos of his boat while I wait for you to call.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose that’s a better idea. We’d cover two possibilities of finding him. He may of course be at home sleeping off his outing last night.’ Fabio turned to her, his brow furrowed. ‘You promise to take care? There’s not much else we can do except keep in touch with one another. I might not ring straight away if I don’t find Marco at the bar. I’ll give him fifteen minutes to turn up and then let you know. If you don’t see him either we must think of another plan.’

  Joanne handed him a slip of paper with her mobile phone number. ‘In case you don’t have it with you,’ she explained. ‘We’ll have to exchange any news.’

  Chapter 17

  Joanne saw Marco’s boat was still in the same place, winched up onto the sleepers. Clearly it hadn’t gone to sea, but Marco was nowhere to be seen. She took several photos of the boat and then stared about at the other fishing boats which rocked idly on their moorings. Had anyone else taken Marco’s place to maintain Renzo’s yacht, she wondered as it came to her that this couldn’t be the job he and Renzo argued about.

  Another thought flashed into her head. Fishing boats left at night. Her pulse began to race as an idea took shape. Hadn’t Tom worked out that immigrants were brought in on fishing boats during the night? Could the argument she’d overheard be something to do with Marco’s fishing boat? Her brain worked fast as she reasoned. Perhaps it was Marco’s refusal to transport immigrants from the mainland! The recollection of Renzo’s words hit her with force. ‘Plenty of others will grab the chance to do the job!’

  ‘Sure, lots of guys will grab the cash!’

  Joanne recalled Marco shouting that his wife and kids were his first priority...It tallied with Signora Conticelli’s view of a caring man. Her heart beat with heavy thuds as she tried to think how Marco’s involvement in that job could link him to kidnapping Tom.

  Fifteen minutes later the ring of her mobile phone scattered her train of thought.

  ‘It’s me. I’ve got news! Where can we meet?’

  ‘There’s a café called ‘Bianca’ half way along the waterfront opposite a stall selling ice creams. We can sit on the terrace.’

  ‘I’ll be no more than ten minutes. See you there!’

  Within a few minutes, Joanne reached café and selected a table on the terrace screened by pots of lemon trees beyond sight of other customers.

  Fabio must have exceeded the speed limit for he appeared in six minutes and she noted he was a little unsteady on his feet.

  ‘Sorry, my love if I’m a bit, you know?’

  ‘Tipsy?’ she asked innocently. ‘So, what shall I order for you?’

  ‘Perhaps a black coffee, please?’ Fabio thumped down heavily onto the wooden seat across from Joanne.

  ‘Please bring two Americano’s with a jug of cold milk - and two large slices of asparagus tart,’ she added. Fabio needed food to lessen the effect of alcohol. She waited, her patience threatening to overspill as the young waitress, obviously new to the task, took ages writing down their order.

  Finally when she’d gone, Joanne turned eagerly to Fabio. ‘Did you find Marco?’

  ‘I certainly did. Not my sort of fellow; brash and full of himself. Mind if I wait for the coffee? My heads all...’

  Again, Joanne had to curb her impatience. At last, their order delivered she watched as Fabio took several gulps of black coffee.

  ‘Ah, Joanne dearest, I’m all right now,’ He blinked several times. ‘Not accustomed to strong lagers during day time! However, it’s paid off I believe.’

  Joanne’s mind leapt as she added milk to her coffee and set a large slice of tart in front of Fabio. Keen to know what happened, she forced herself to wait. ‘You are allowed to eat in between telling me what happened at the bar.’ Her fingers held onto her own slice while Fabio ate.

  She half closed her eyes and glanced up. ‘Perhaps I’ve also have something to report.’ And then, ‘Oh do hurry up and tell me about Marco or I’ll take your food away!’

  Fabio quickly popped a morsel into his mouth and reaching for her hand mumbled, ‘Okay!’ His grin was slightly skewered as began to explain. ‘Marco’s going to let me have sea bass at first light tomorrow morning before it goes to market.’ He paused and waited for the effect his next words would have and as he took another bite of his tart.

  Maddened, Joanne exclaimed, ‘Stop teasing. Tell me more!’

  ‘He’ll have it in a box in the back of his van,’ Fabio reported. ‘One of his mates called out and asked him why he wasn’t fishing last night and he made some excuse about his mother being poorly. What do you think of that? None of them believed him. So, I’ll bet that van might be the one used to kidnap Tom.’ He returned to finishing off his food.

  Joanne got to her feet and pounced upon Fabio’s lap. ‘You clever!’ she paused to kiss the crumbs from his mouth. ‘Horrible drink smelling Fabio. Ugh!’ She sniffed as she nuzzled his neck. ‘Smells like you dipped your hair in the stuff.’ She flicked away his pony tail.

  Ignoring her jest, Fabio placed an arm about her waist and continued. ‘Marco was easy meat really – is that your English expression? After we had five lagers together, he was my best friend.’

  ‘Five!’ Joanne exploded and slid from his lap. ‘You drank five lagers and drove your car after that?’

  ‘I couldn’t get to you fast enough.’ Fabio looked up with a sheepish grin. ‘Now what do you have to report?’

  ‘Just an idea. First drink the coffee, all right? I want you sober. Without pausing, she added, ‘You remember I told you about that row I overheard between Renzo and Marco? It struck me that Marco could be the man paid to bring in the immigrants on his fishing boat. What I overheard was Marco’s refusal to do ‘that job’ any more. What d’you think of that?’ She exploded. ‘I still can’t think how that might link him with Tom. – Oh, of course! Don’t you see? When Signora Conticelli told Marco that Tom was ‘investigating something’, Marco took that to mean Tom was on the Island to check who was bringing illegal immigrants here.’ She jumped of Fabio’s lap.

  ‘That was slow of me. Marco must have been desperate to see what Tom had found out. Then all the proof we need that Marco kidnapped Tom is to check the inside of his van. At least we’d gain proof for Tom that nothing sinister is likely to happen to him again.’

  Fabio had recovered his wits and gave Joanne a steady look. ‘That sounds right, clever you.’ He
frowned, ‘but I regret this implies my cousin Renzo paid Marco to bring in immigrants on his fishing boat, and then employs them with little or no pay – just some sort of place to sleep.’

  Joanne bit her lip. ‘I heard Marco tell him there were plenty of other fishermen glad to take on the job for cash so the trade seems unlikely to end.’

  Fabio sighed and looked away. ‘It’s sad how Renzo changed when he left to work on the mainland.’

  Joanne listened quietly as Fabio began to explain.

  ‘Renzo left for good right after he’d finished his studies. He was influenced by business people who offered superb returns on investments, and he believed he’d get rich which was what he hankered for from childhood. But those people turned out to be untrustworthy and must also have been controlled by the Camorra – gangs of extortionists – and worse, with enormous power in this region. Renzo lost a great deal of money. This much I know but the rest I could tell you is only conjecture. Would you like to hear my supposition?’

  Joanne nodded.

  ‘You’ve heard of the Naples Camorra? They have even more nasty ways than the Mafia.’

  Joanne flinched, afraid of what she was about to hear.

  ‘They run pretty much everything. Even the local city services in Naples can’t operate unless officials give that gang a big cut. You’ve seen the refuge piled in the streets because the authorities can’t afford workers to collect it.’ Fabio firmed his mouth. ‘I’m convinced Renzo borrowed heavily. Those people would have demanded ever larger sums to pay off the extortionate interest. In desperation Renzo must have got in too deep and borrowed against the value of the Winery. You see, I believe the man who now manages the Winery is part of the Camorra organisation, in fact of that I am certain. I also believe it’s the Camorra who determines the immigrants work for no wages to get the utmost profit from the business. That at least is in my cousin’s favour.’

  Joanne stared in dismay as she tried to come to terms with what was going on below the surface of this lovely Island. As Fabio’s disclosure became clear, she said, ‘Well at least if you are correct that it means Renzo is not totally the guilty one; that’s a relief. He obviously is forced to do things against his will.’ Her shoulders relaxed. ‘If what you say could be confirmed, everything would seem a lot better.’

  Fabio sighed. ‘Yes, it’s hard when a family member isn’t to be trusted. I consider Renzo weak in the sense that he was persuaded; but no, I don’t think he’s guilty of forcing the workers to work like slaves.’

  Suddenly Joanne’s mind switched to the incident she’d witnessed in the ancient church in Fontana. The vivid memory of it fetched a shiver as she saw herself hiding in that icy cold place. Had Renzo been seeking absolution in the confession box?

  She hesitated before inquiring, ‘Are the priests sometimes mixed up with these gangs?’

  Fabio nodded. ‘Some are. Those that love to exercise power over their parishioners – a historic situation, you know. A priest might get his pockets lined by the Camorra for passing on information and church attendance here is high. I’m sorry to say they sometimes act as go between ...’

  So unlike our Northern countries, Joanne brooded. It seemed like a travesty of religion. It did, however, offer an explanation of Renzo’s visit to the Confession box. She gave a start. Could that be why she’d spotted Renzo coming from church that first morning? And then the church in Fontana! Uncertainties crowded her mind with other puzzling incidents. Fabio was clearly disillusioned by his cousin’s behaviour. Joanne pondered this might be the reason why he and Renzo kept distance from each other.

  Almost as though Fabio tuned in to her thoughts, he began to talk again. ‘We argued fiercely a few years back. I was desperately worried my sister would be left without financial support when her husband died in that accident. Renzo told me to mind my own affairs; he’d look after her.’ Fabio turned with a wry look. ‘We’re not enemies but that closeness in our youth is no more.’

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ she murmured.

  ‘Renzo is no fool. He’s making money from his construction projects but I imagine the Camorra has a hold over that business as well. Incidentally, I don’t think I’ll ever know if Lucio was killed by accident or otherwise. The Camorra is too clever at covering their tracks.

  ‘What a dreadful situation,’ Joanne said quietly. ‘Well, I have some sympathy for Renzo now. I no longer feel the need to catch him out over the immigrant situation; not if he’s been forced into it.’

  Fabio nodded. ‘That appears to be the case.’

  ‘I have to think Renzo invited me to crew his yacht to escape from his troubles by being with a complete stranger – can’t see any other reason. I suppose I should be grateful to sail with him tomorrow.’

  But,’ Fabio gazed sadly into Joanne’s eyes. ‘There’s so little time left for us, my love.’

  Joanne reached for his hand. ‘If only I could spend more time here. I just wish...but I’m only here because of Renzo’s invitation.’ She pressed her lips together. ‘If only it were possible, I would love to spend my last day on Ischia with you.’ Exasperated, she gripped his hand tight. ‘Was I a fool to accept his invitation to crew?’

  Fabio head jerked. ‘No! In that case we’d never have met.’

  ‘Oh Fabio, that’s not what I meant!’

  ‘You are the only one I want dearest,’ he murmured.

  Joanne failed to hear this last remark as a picture of Renzo launched itself into her head and wouldn’t shift. She caught Fabio’s arm. ‘You don’t think he’s guessed I’ve been delving into his affairs and plans to throw me overboard?’

  Fabio chuckled and gave her a reassuring smile. ‘No my dear one, you certainly aren’t a threat. Despite his faults, Renzo isn’t a murderer; he’s just skirting the law.’ He paused, ‘I have faith in the future for us. You will come to my house when you get back to port? I can hardly bear to be parted for our last night.’ His tone was urgent. ‘Please say you will, dear Joanne. I’ll be waiting for your call to collect you when you sail back tomorrow evening.’ He took her hand. ‘I’d longed to spend the day with you.’

  His hand was warm and strong. She saw his tanned face flushed with emotion and felt a quiver dart down her spine.

  ‘You are very precious to me, my dearest,’ Fabio murmured.

  For the first time in her life Joanne felt no need for caution. ‘I’ll be thinking of you all the time I’m sailing, dear Fabio.’ She ached for him and in a trice they were both on their feet and hugging while their lips joined in a sensual kiss. Dizzy with emotion, she drew away and leaned back, ‘You must allow time for your painting. I won’t be responsible for you breaking a contract.’

  ‘Then I’d better get back to it.’ Fabio said resignedly and dropped his arms. ‘More emotion will now go into this painting. I can feel it in my mind’s eye. But as you kindly point out I must finish it.’ He shrugged and added, ‘and by tomorrow. It’s a commission for a regular client who will take it to Milan for his daughter’s Wedding.’ His smile brightened his features. ‘I shall work happier knowing we shall be together tomorrow night.’

  ‘And I have last minute shopping to do and a hair cut in mind.’ Joanne looked at her watch, surprised to see it still only mid- day. ‘I’ll phone Angelina and see if she’s free before the children leave school. I’m fond of your sister and couldn’t bear to leave without seeing her again.’

  Fabio’s eyes looked solemn as he asked, ‘Could you not make an excuse?’ His brow furrowed. ‘Not go sailing tomorrow?’

  ‘Oh Fabio, I’ve wracked my brains but couldn’t think up another excuse to tell him.’ She drew a deep breath. ‘Unfortunately I owe Renzo. I have to go sailing tomorrow. Angelina told me an amusing tale, but it does make me feel sympathetic for him. Apparently none of Renzo’s lady friends in Rome appear to be into sailing, in fact they only come to Ischia for the sun and beauty spa treatment!’ Her remark fell flat and she tried to sound upbeat as her sense of obligation to Renzo took
a hold.

  ‘Promise you’ll phone me as soon as you return to port?’ Fabio’s words hung in the still air.

  ‘Yes, as soon as we get back here. Anyway, I’m quite sure that Renzo didn’t have an ulterior motive for inviting me to crew.’ She got to her feet. ‘He plans an early start at seven o’clock tomorrow morning, so I’ll go back to the hotel to pack up my things and it’ll leave us more time together tomorrow night. Unfortunately, I also need to be ready early the following morning to make the connection for the Naples/Rome express.’ She saw him close his eyes.

  Fabio said nothing, merely nodded as if he understood. He drove her back to the hotel with one arm about her shoulders while Joanne’s arms clung to his waist, both of them too emotional to speak.

  At least she would be with Fabio tomorrow night. She longed to stay with him and that was also clearly in Fabio’s mind.

  Chapter 18

  Determined to make the best of the opportunity for the day’s sail, Joanne was up before six the following morning, dressed, a light breakfast eaten and returned to her room by 6.40am.

  Suddenly, she remembered the present she’d saved to give Renzo before her holiday ended. Reaching into the back of a drawer, her fingers closed over it. Exquisitely wrapped it looked a delightful package. She hoped Renzo would admire the coloured glass tray it concealed as she slipped it into her sailing bag.

  It felt as if auto-pilot had taken control of her. The clothes she wore reflected a kind of ‘devil may care’ attitude; a vivid red and white striped T shirt, white cropped jeans with a navy spotted kerchief around her neck, with a jaunty cotton cap atop her short dark hair. For good measure, she slid several silver bangles onto her wrist which made a defiant chinking sound as she slung her canvas bag over a shoulder, left her room and tripped down the hotel stairs again.

  Nevertheless, as she hurried down to the harbour to meet Renzo by the dinghy, her heart hopped about with trepidation. For some unaccountable reason she felt on edge, at odds with such a perfect day for the sky was already crystal clear over a calm azure sea. The conditions looked perfect.