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They were driving on the Via Cassia, near Olgiata, headed north toward Venice. The police would be covering all the major exits from Italy, but they would be expecting him to go west, to head for France or Switzerland. From Venice, Robert thought, I can take the hydrofoil to Trieste and make my way up to Austria. After that …

Pier’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “I’m hungry.”

“What?”

“We haven’t had any breakfast or lunch.”

“I’m sorry,” Robert said. He had been too preoccupied to think about eating. “We’ll stop at the next restaurant.”

Pier watched him as he drove. She was more puzzled than ever. She lived in a world of pimps and thieves, and drug smugglers. This man was no criminal.

They stopped at the next town in front of a small trattoria. Robert pulled into the parking lot and he and Pier got out of the car.

The restaurant was crowded with patrons, and noisy with conversation and the clatter of dishes. Robert found a table against the wall, and took a seat facing the door. A waiter approached and handed them menus.

Robert was thinking: Susan should be on the boat by now. This may be my last chance to talk to her. “Look over the menu.” Robert rose. “I’ll be right back.”

Pier watched him walk over to the public telephone near their table. He put a coin in the slot.

“I would like to talk to the marine operator in Gibraltar. Thank you.”

Who is he calling in Gibraltar? Pier wondered. Is that his get-away?

“Operator, I want to place a collect call to the American yacht, Halcyon, off Gibraltar. Whiskey Sugar 337. Thank you.”

A few minutes passed while the operators talked to each other and his call was accepted.

Robert hear’d Susan’s voice on the telephone.

“Susan …”

“Robert! Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I just wanted to tell you …”

“I know what you want to tell me. It’s all over the radio and television. Why is Interpol hunting you?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Take your time. I want to know.”

He hesitated. “It’s political, Susan. I have evidence that some governments are trying to suppress. That’s why Interpol is after me.”

Pier was listening intently to Robert’s end of the conversation.

“What can I do to help?” Susan asked.

“Nothing, honey. I just called to hear your voice once more in case … in case I don’t get out of this.”

“Don’t say that.” There was panic in her voice. “Can you tell me what country you’re in?”

“Italy.”

There was a brief silence. “All right. We’re not far from you. We’re just off the coast of Gibraltar. We can pick you up at any place you say.”

“No, I …”

“Listen to me. It’s probably your only chance of escape.”

“I can’t let you do that, Susan. You’d be in jeopardy.”

Monte had walked into the saloon in time to hear part of the conversation. “Let me talk to him.”

“Just a moment, Robert, Monte wants to speak to you.”

“Susan, I haven’t …”

Monte’s voice came over the line. “Robert, I understand you’re in serious trouble.”

The understatement of the year. “You might say that.”

“We’d like to help you out. They won’t be looking for you on a yacht. Why don’t you let us pick you up?”

“Thanks, Monte, I appreciate it. The answer is no.”

“I think you’re making a mistake. You’ll be safe here.”

Why was he so eager to help? “Thanks, anyway. I’ll take my chances. I’d like to speak to Susan again …”

“Of course.” Monte Banks handed the phone to Susan. “Talk him into it,” he urged.

Susan spoke into the phone. “Please let us help you.”

“You have helped me, Susan.” He had to stop for a moment. “You’re the best part of my life. I just want you to know that I’ll always love you.” He gave a little laugh. “Although always may not be such a big deal anymore.”

“Will you call me again?”

“If I can.”

“Promise me.”

“All right. I promise.”

He slowly replaced the receiver. Why did I do that to her? Why did I do that to myself? You’re a sentimental idiot, Bellamy. He walked back to the table.

“Let’s eat,” Robert said. They ordered.

“I heard your conversation. The police are looking for you, aren’t they?”

Robert stiffened. Careless. She was going to be trouble. “It’s just a little misunderstanding. I …”

“Don’t treat me like a fool. I want to help you.”

He was watching her warily. “Why should you help me?”

Pier leaned forward. “Because you’ve been generous to me. And I hate the police. You don’t know what it’s like to be out on the streets, hounded by them, treated like dirt. They arrest me for prostitution, but they take me to their back rooms and pass me around. They are animals. I would do anything to get even with them. Anything. I can help you.”

“Pier, there’s nothing you …”

“In Venice the police will catch you easily. If you stay at a hotel, they will find you. If you try to get on a ship, they will trap you. But I know a place where you will be safe from them. My mother and brother live in Naples. We can stay at their house. The police will never look for you there.”