Mr. Pastor's friend from Lake Como. Certain parts of the lake were known to be retreats for the expensive children of the Mediterranean. Crispi had done his job well; he had provided just enough information to intrigue a number of guests. Those who might wish to learn the most about the quiet Mr. Pastor were told the least while others too imbued with themselves to care about Pastor were told more, so they could relate what they had learned as gossip, which was their major industry.
Those men whose concerns were more directly--even exclusively-financial, were prone to take his elbow and inquire softly about the projected status of the dollar or the stability of investments in London, San Francisco and Buenos Aires. With such inquisitors, Scofield inclined his head briefly at some suggestions and shook it with a single motion at others. Eyebrows were raised-unobtru- sively. Information had been imparted, although Bray had no idea what it was.
After one such encounter with a particularly insistent questioner he took Toni's arm and they walked through a massive archway into the next crowded "courtyard." Accepting two glasses of champagne from a waiter's tray, Bray handed one to Toni and looked around over the crystal rim as he drank.
Without having seen him before Scofield knew he had just found Count Guillarno, Scozzi. The Italian was in a comer chatting with two long-legged young women, his eyes roaming from their attentive stares, glancing about the room with feigned casualness. He was a tall, slender man, a cavaliere complete with tails and graying hair that spread in streaks from his temples throughout his perfectly groomed head. In his lapel were tiny colorful ribbons, around his waist a thin gold sash, bordered in dark red and knotted off-center. If any missed the significance of the ribbons, they could not overlook the mark of distinc- tion inherent in the sash; Scozzi wore his escutcheons prominently. In his late fifties the count was the embodiment of the bello Romano; no Siciliano had ever crept into the bed of his ancestors and per Dio the world had better know it.
"How will you find him?" asked Antonia, sipping the wine.
"I think I just have." "Him? Over there?" she asked. Bray nodded. "You're right. I've seen his picture in the newspapers. He's a favorite subject of the paparrazzi. Are you going to introduce yourself?" "I don't think I'll have to. Unless I'm mistaken, he's looking for me." Scofield gestured toward a buffet table. "Let's walk over to the end table, by the pastries. He'll see us." "But how would be know you?" "Crispi. Our benevolent intermediary may not have bothered to describe me, but he sure as hell wouldn't overlook describing you. Not with someone like Scozzi." "But I had those huge sunglasses on." "You're very funny," said Bray.
It took less than a minute before they heard a mellifluous voice behind them at the buffet table. "Signore Pastor, I believe." They turned. "I beg your pardon? Have we metT' Scofield asked.
"We were about to, I think," said the count, extending his hand. "Scozzi.
Guillamo Scozzi. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." The title was emphasized by its absence.
"Oh, of course. Count Scozzi. I told that delightful fellow Crispi I'd look you up. We arrived here less than an hour ago and it's been a little hectic. I would have recognized you, naturally, but I'm surprised you knew me." Scozzi laughed, displaying teeth so white and so perfectly formed they could not possibly have come with the original machine. "Crispi is, indeed, delightful, but I'm afraid a bit of a rascal. He was rapturous over la bella signorina." The count inclined his head to Antonia. "I see her, I find you. As always, Crispi's taste is impeccable." "Excuse me." Scofield touched Toni's forearm. "Count Scozzi, my friend, Antonia... from Lake Como." The first name and the lake said it all; the count took her hand and raised it to his lips.
"An adorable creature. Rome must see more of you." "You're too kind, Excellency," said Antonia, as if born to attend the Festa Villa d'Este.
"Truthfully, Mister Pastor," continued Scozzi. "I've been told that many of my more brothersome friends have been annoying you with questions. I apologize for them." "No need to. I'm afraid Crispi's descriptions included more mundane matters." Bray smiled with disarming humility. "When people learn what I do, they ask questions. I'm used to it." "You're very understanding." "It's not hard to be. I just wish I were as knowledgeable