back through a weed-filled garden, emerging on the path fifty feet behind Scozzi. He cleared his throat the moment Scozzi reached the waist-high wall of the fountain's pool. The count turned; there was just enough light from the terraces above for each to see the other.
Scofield was bothered by the darkness. Scozzi could have chosen any number of places more convenient, less filled with shadows. Bray did not like shadows.
"Was it necessary to come down this far?" he asked. "I wanted to see you alone, but I hadn't figured on walking halfway back to Rome." "Nor had 1, Mr. Pastor, until you made the statement that you did not care to have us seen leaving together. It brought to my mind the obvious.
It is, perhaps, not to my advantage to be seen talking in private with you. You are a broker for the sheiks." "Why should that bother you?" "Why did you wish to leave separately?" Scozzi had a quick mind, bearing out Crispi's allusion to a Borgia mentality. "A matter of being too obvious, I'd say. But if someone wandered down here and saw us, that would also be too obvious. There's a middle ground, a casual encounter in the gardens, for example." "You have the encounter and no one will see us," said the count. "nere is only one entrance to the fountain of Ippolito; it is forty meters behind us. I have an aide standing there. Guillamo Scozzi has been known to stroll with a companion of his choice down-if you will-a primrose path. At such times he does not care to be disturbed." "Does my doing what I do call for those precautions?" The count raised his hand. "Remember, Mr. Pastor. Scozzi-Paravacini deals throughout all Europe and both Americas. We look constantly for new markets, but we do not look for Arab capital. It is highly suspect; barriers are being erected everywhere to prevent its excessive infusion.
We would not come to be so scrutinized. Jewish interests in Paris and New York alone could cost us dearly." "What I have to say to you has nothing to do with Scozzi-Paravacini," said Scofield. "It concerns the Scozzi part, not the Paravacini." "You allude to a sensitive area, Mr. Pastor. Please be specific." "You are the son of Count Alberto Scozzi, aren't you?" "It is well known.
As are my contributions to the growth of Paravacini Industries. The significance of the corporate conversion to the name of Scozzi-Paravacini is, I trust, not lost on you." "It isn't, but even if it were, it doesn't matter. rm only a go-between, supposedly the first of several contacts, each further removed from the next. As far as I'm concerned, I ran into you casually at a charity affair in Tivoli. We never had this talk." "Your message must, indeed, be dramatic. Who sends it?" It was Bray's turn to raise his hand. "Please. As we understand the rules, identities are never specific at the first conference. Only a geographical area and a political equation that involves hypothetical antagonists." Scozzi's eyes narrowed; the lids fell in concentratiom "Go on," he said.
"You're a count, so IT bend the rules a bit. Let's say there's a prince living in a sizeable country, a sheikdom, really, on the Gulf. His uncle, the king, is from another era; he's old and senile but his word is law, just as it was when he led a Bedouin tribe in the desert. He's squan- dering millions with bad investments, depleting the sheikdom's resources, taking too much out of the ground too quickly. This hypothetical prince would like him removed. For everyone's good. He appeals to the council through the son of Alberto Scozzi, named for the Corsican padrone, Guillaume.... That's the message. Now I'd Re to speak for myself." "Who are you?" asked the Italian, his eyes now wide. "Who sent you?" "Let me finish," said Bray quickly. He had to get past the initial jolt, jump to a second plateau. "As an observer of this... hypothetical equation, I can tell you it's reached a crisis. There isn't a day to lose. The prince needs an answer and, frankly, if I bring it to him, I'll be a much richer man for it You, of course, can name the council's price.
And I can tell you that... fifty million, American, is not out of the question." "Fifty million." It worked; the second plateau was reached. Even for a man like Guillamo Scozzi, the amount was staggering. His arrogant lips were parted