there were screams everywhere, and deafening music and revolving lights that blinded one moment, leaving residues of white the next. Scofield pulled the man back to the row of chairs against the wall and spun him around, forcing him down into the one at the end nearest the heavy door. He plunged his fingers into the Italian's throat, his left hand now under the jacket, his fingers inching toward the trigger, the barrel still jammed into the man's flesh. He put his lips next to the killer's ear.
"The man upstairsl Who is he? Tell me, or your own gun will blow your lungs outl The shot won't even be heard in herel Who is he?" "No!" The man tried to arch out of the chair; Bray sunk his knee cap into the rising groin, his fingers choking the windpipe. He pressed both; pain without release or relief.
"I wam you and it's final! Who is he?" Saliva poured out of the man's mouth, his eyes two circles of red webs, his chest heaving in surrender. He abandoned his cause, and he expelled the name in a strained whisper.
"Paravacini." Bray viced a last clamp on the killees windpipe; the air to the lungs and the head was suspended for slightly more than two seconds; the man fell limp. Scofield angled him down over the adjacent chair; one more drunken bello Romano.
He turned and threaded his way through the narrow path between the row of chairs and the jagged line of fever-pitched dancers. The first man had gone outside; Bray could roam freely for a minute or two, but no longer.
He pressed his way through the crowd in the entranceway and walked into a less-frenzied gathering in the next room.
He saw her in the comer, the dark-haired Paolo standing next to her, two other cavalier! in front, all vying for her attention. Paolo, however, seemed less insistent; he knew future possessions when he saw them, where his count was concerned. The first thought that came to Bray's mind was that Toni's dress had to be covered.
... the girl in white. She, also, kill them both.
He walked rapidly up to the foursome, knowing precisely what he would do.
A diversion was needed, the more hysterical the better. He touched Paolo's arm, his eyes on Antonia, his look telling her to stay quiet.
"You are Paolo, aren't you?" he asked the dark-haired man in Italian.
"Yes, sir." 'Vount Guillamo wants to see you right away. It's some kind of emergency, I think." "Of coursel Where is he, sir?" "Go through the arch over there and turn right, past a row of chairs, to a door. There's a staircase...." The young Italian rushed away; Bray excused Toni and himself from the remaining two men. He held her arm and propelled her toward the arch that led into the disco.
"What's happening?" she asked.
"We're leaving," he answered. "Inside here, there are some coats and things on the chairs. Grab the darkest and the largest one you can find. Quickly, we haven't much time.
She found a long black cape, as Bray stood between her and the contortionists on the dance floor. She bunched it under her arm and they elbowed their way to the French doors and the steps outside.
"Here, put it on," ordered Scofield, draping it over her shoulders. "Let's go," he said, starting down the steps. "We'll cut through the terraces to the right and back inside through the hall to the parking...." Screams erupted from inside. Men shouted, women shrieked, and within seconds figures in various stages of drunkenness surged out of doors, colliding with each other. There was sudden chaos inside and the panicked words were clear.
E stato uccisol Terroristil Fuggiamol The body of Count Guillamo Scozzi had been found.
Bray and Antonia raced down to the first level of terrace, and began running by a wall filled with ornate planter boxes. At the end of the enclosure there was a narrow opening into the next Scofield held her hand and pulled her through.
"Altof You stayl" The shout came from above; the first man who bad rushed out of the door only minutes before, stood on the stone steps, a weapon in his hand. Bray slammed his shoulder into Antonia, sending her crashing into the wall.
He dove to his right on the concrete, rolled to his left, and yanked the Browning from his holster. The man's shots exploded the ancient stone above Scofield; Bray aimed from his back, his shoulders off the pavement, his right hand steadied by his