Treasured Dreams (31 page)

‘What's wrong, babe?' Ginger placed her hand on Alessandro's knee, and he glanced at her. ‘You're frowning.'

He sighed. ‘I was just wondering what on earth this could mean. Wade's drawn a man fishing and a tin of tuna.' It was infuriating to have more questions than answers.

Ginger's eyes bulged. ‘There was a fish in one of the books I had. It was on the second page.' She launched off her stool and fell to her hands and knees to rummage through the books. It seemed like an eternity before she found it. ‘Here. Look.' She presented the open book to him.

Wade had drawn a very basic fish and beside it was a crude drawing of a boat with giant poles protruding up from the tail end of it. Alessandro turned the drawing towards Archer and Jimmy. ‘What type of boat would this be?'

‘A trawler,' they both said in unison.

Alessandro frowned. ‘What do you think Wade was trying to tell us?'

‘Something about tuna fishing?' Ginger volunteered.

Archer rubbed his chin and Alessandro heard the scratch on his stubble. ‘I wonder if Dad did tuna fishing or something in the Solomon Islands.'

‘Maybe there's a boat called the Tuna Fish,' Rosalina suggested.

‘I'll see what I can find.' Alessandro opened his laptop on the table and Google searched for tuna fishing in the Solomon Islands. It was a long while before he hit a jackpot. ‘Oh my God.'

‘What?' Ginger said as everyone looked at him.

He smiled at Ginger. ‘Remember the drawing of the woman with red hair and the ghost?'

Ginger edged forward on her seat. ‘Yes.'

‘A boat loaded with a cargo of canned tuna was sunk by a bouncing bomb in May, 1945. The boat was called the Ranga Spirit.'

Chapter Thirty-Four

Nox spent three days trying to extract Filippo's banking pin from him, but the stubborn Italian wouldn't divulge it. And so here they were, travelling the winding road that skirted the edge of the coastline with Filippo behind the wheel of Nurse Isabella's car, and Nox aiming a gun at Filippo's hip. Filippo had begun whistling almost from the moment they'd left the orphanage and gave the appearance he was completely at ease with the situation.

It was risky taking Filippo from the confines of the orphanage, potentially giving him the opportunity to escape, but Nox had no choice. Strangely, he believed Filippo wouldn't try anything. He also believed Filippo was in this for the treasure as much as Nox was. Rosalina's brother seemed to have total faith in their partnership.

Nox nearly laughed aloud at the concept.

Filippo pulled into a car park at a strip of shops. Nox stepped out and raced to catch up to Filippo, who was striding to a banking machine.

‘Don't try anything.' Nox concealed the weapon beneath his shirt and nudged the gun into the small of Filippo's back.

‘Calm down. I've told you already, I'm not going anywhere.' True to his word, Filippo withdrew two hundred euro and handed half to Nox.

‘Now …' Filippo cocked his head at him. ‘I'm hungry, and because I'm paying, I'll choose where.' He glanced around at the dining options, and after only a brief pause, he headed towards the restaurant at the end of the strip of shops.

La Pasta Gialla had as many hanging plants as it had table settings, and the first impression Nox had was of walking into an overgrown backyard. Every table, decorated in red and white chequered cloths, took in the view over the ocean. A waiter was quick to greet them and to Nox's relief, they were directed to a table a decent distance from other diners in the restaurant.

Their water glasses were filled, menus were handed to them, the daily special was detailed with great flamboyance, cloth napkins were draped across their laps, and then their waiter waddled off to leave them to decide on their meals. Nox was bewildered by this strange scenario, but Filippo seemed completely oblivious to the absurdity of what they were doing.

Nox would have been happy with takeaway fish and chips. But with Filippo's offer to pay, he couldn't resist something more substantial. He took Filippo's lead and scanned the menu, but he couldn't go past
bistecca alla fiorentina
. If the T-bone steak was cooked half as good as it was described on the menu, then he'd be happy. He added a side of rosemary potatoes and buttery greens.

Once they'd placed their orders with the waiter, Nox glanced around the restaurant. It seemed that nobody in the café was interested in them. Not the elderly couple in the booth who hardly spoke two words to each other. Not the four young women who barely stopped speaking to breathe. And not the staff who served them with professional indifference.

It was like being invisible.

Nox had been invisible many times. The Church of St Apostoli, his home for decades, offered dozens of discreet nooks that had allowed him to watch and listen unnoticed. He'd learnt many secrets, and just as many facts that way. Knowledge was power. And as he glared into the eyes of Rosalina's brother, he realised this fateful partnership was another avenue for obtaining knowledge.

When his two-inch thick steak arrived, lightly charred on the outside and still simmering on a hot stone, he was grateful Filippo was insistent on paying. It was cooked to perfection and so tender he could slice it with a butter knife. Blood seeped from the delicious meat as he cut into it.

‘How's your steak?' Filippo asked with a mouthful.

It was like they were just a couple of friends sharing a lunch meeting, not the kidnapper and captive that they really were. Nox nodded. ‘It's good.'

As he savoured another slice of his rare steak, he leant back on his chair and felt the gun tucked into his pants at his lower backbone. Although it now seemed unlikely Filippo would do anything, it was reassuring having the weapon at hand. He would have no hesitation to use it should the need arise, regardless of who was watching.

‘So.' Filippo reached for his wine glass and settled back on his chair. ‘Why don't you tell me about what happened in that room you have me locked up in?'

Nox leered at Filippo.

‘What? You think I haven't noticed? Whenever you walk in, you look about the room as if expecting ghosts to crawl out of the cracks.'

Filippo's insight was unsettling. Nox hadn't realised he was that easy to read.

‘Did someone play doctors and nurses with you?' Filippo peered over his wine glass with a snide grin.

‘No.' Nox scanned the restaurant, ignoring Filippo's chuckle, and it didn't take long to confirm nobody was listening.

‘No one cares, Nox.' Filippo took a large gulp of wine. ‘Come on, tell me what …' he shrugged, ‘… business went on in there.'

Business? That was an interesting term for it.

So far, as he'd recounted to Filippo how he'd killed people, Nox had kept it brief, brushing over the nitty-gritty. Then again, all the murders he'd talked about to this point had been done by relatively civilised means. The dentist though, the one who had tortured him in that very room Filippo was sleeping in, had not received such gentle treatment.

Nox broke off a chunk of his bread roll and scooped up the blood on his plate, and as he ate the food, he went back to that horrible place in his memory. ‘I was nine years old when I was dragged into that room to see the dentist. I'd never seen one before and had no idea what to expect. The dentist, Doctor Igor Vleshor—'

‘You remember his name?' Filippo interrupted.

‘I never forget the names of my tormentors.' Nox lowered his eyes and rolled his knife from side to side, catching the glint of the sun on the blade. ‘Igor made the nurses hold me down while he prised open my mouth and drilled out two of my teeth. At some point during the torture, I passed out. When I woke up I was in my dorm bed, covered in blood, writhing in agony and with a group of children standing around me.'

‘Ahh, geez. That's a rotten story.' Filippo's facial features glided from disgust to intrigue. He leant forward and propped his elbows on the table. ‘What'd you do to him?'

Once again, Nox was perplexed by both Filippo's insight and his eagerness to hear the gory details. ‘I was twenty-five when I finally tracked down Vleshor. He was still a practicing dentist.' Nox nibbled on a long green buttery bean. ‘So I made an appointment.'

‘Weren't you worried about being recognised?'

‘Nobody recognises me.' It was true; his disease ensured most people couldn't wait to get away from him. They'd lower their eyes and scurry past as if just being in his presence risked their lives. Filippo was the first man he'd ever met who didn't seem to notice it. His beloved Ophelia was the only woman. As his mind drifted to the abundantly homely woman who'd saved him in so many ways, he wondered if he would ever share a meal with her just like this, two people chatting about old times.

‘I'd recognise you.'

Nox lurched back from his mental drifting and captured Filippo's dark eyes with his. Filippo seemed unconcerned that his statement was exactly the reason why Nox had to kill him, when the time was right.

‘So, come on.' Filippo waved his wine glass at a waiter in the distance. ‘What'd you do to this dentist?'

The waiter walked towards him with efficient briskness and plucked the red wine bottle from the side counter on the way. ‘
Volete più vino signore?
'

Filippo agreed to more wine, however Nox declined; his glass was still half full. As much as he'd like several drinks, he needed to keep his mind clear.

Nox refrained from smiling at the waiter; his dreadful teeth was one of his distinguishing features. Once the waiter filled Filippo's glass and moved back out of earshot, he continued the conversation. ‘While the nurse was holding some tube in my mouth and the dentist was poking and prodding with one of his gadgets, I stabbed both of them with tranquilisers. Simultaneously, like this.' Nox demonstrated by suddenly yanking his arms apart with balled fists representing the needles he'd jabbed into the dentist and his nurse. ‘I bound and gagged the nurse and locked her in the cupboard. Then I tied up Vleshor and waited for him to come around.'

‘What did you do?' By the look on Filippo's face, any glancing patron in the restaurant would get the impression Nox was telling a piece of juicy gossip rather than detailing a bloody murder. The waiter arrived to clear their plates, once again stalling their conversation.

As soon as the waiter waddled away, Filippo eased forward on his elbows. A slight nod indicated it was time for Nox to continue.

‘I reminded Vleshor of my nine-year-old self who'd lost two teeth under his torturous techniques.' Nox shrugged. ‘Then I pulled his teeth out one by one. So much blood. When I was finished, I stuffed a blood-soaked rag into his mouth and pegged his nostrils. Vleshor will never torture anyone ever again.'

Filippo put his hands together, and for a moment Nox thought he would clap. ‘What about the two nurses who held you down when you were a kid?'

Nox drank the last of his wine, then twirled the remaining droplets around the glass. ‘I missed one of them; she died before I got to her. The other though, Sister Teresa Constanza, looked right into my eyes as I squeezed the life out of her.'

‘Just like Shyain,' Filippo said with a gleam in his eyes.

‘Yes. Just like Shyain.' Although Nox would always remember the name of his first victim, he was surprised Filippo did.

Chapter Thirty-Five

With each day at sea, Rosalina grew more and more tired. It was only four o'clock in the afternoon, and she'd done very little today other than lounge around. Their arrival and departure at Darwin two days ago was so swift Rosalina barely had time to replenish their supplies. Yet she wondered if she'd picked up a bug there, because she'd thrown up the following morning, and ever since then all her energy had been sapped out of her. All she wanted to do was go to bed. She wouldn't though.

She went to the bathroom and splashed water on her face. Her freckles seemed more prominent than usual, and dark shadows loomed beneath her eyes. Maybe the worry over Filippo was affecting her more than she realised. Tonight was to be their last night at sea before they arrived at the Solomon Islands, which meant that it was potentially their last chance to rest. Who knew what tomorrow would bring?

She pulled open the cupboards, seeking her face cream, and when she saw the small black packet at the side, she froze. The sight of Archer's box of condoms had her brain screaming. For years she'd been the one managing their contraception, but when they'd broken up, she went off the pill altogether. She squeezed her temples with her thumbs and glared at herself in the mirror. ‘Am I pregnant?' Just the thought of it threaded fear through her body. She didn't want children, never had.

She gripped the vanity basin as she processed what she did and didn't know. In the last few weeks she'd been nauseous, dizzy, tired, and having all sorts of reactions to food. But they could all be explained away to strange foods and extreme stress. Had they been careful? The answer was a resounding no. Once they became a couple again, she should have gone back on the pill, but their life had been so crazy she hadn't even put two thoughts into it.

‘Oh God.' She forced down the acid in the back of her throat as she lifted her dress to look at her stomach. Turning sideways, she examined her torso in the mirror. It didn't look any different. She couldn't be pregnant. Rosalina began to giggle. The idea that she was having a baby was ridiculous. She leant on the sink and stared at her reflection in the mirror until she'd forced the worry from her face.

On impulse she slipped into her bikini, scooped her hair into a ponytail at the base of her neck and tugged on her large lemon-coloured sun hat. She grabbed sunglasses and a white sarong, and as she tied the soft fabric up over one shoulder she went in search of Archer. She found him at the bridge with Jimmy. ‘Hey guys, I'm going for a dip in the spa. Who wants to join me?'