Friday

Part 6


His name was Guiseppe Rossetto. He was the founding member and majority shareholder of Cubic Holdings, a dealer in the dark arts of money passing hands from those who have and those who need.

She had his account and knew his dealings, his secrets, better than most. Tabytha was Williamhurst's top legal brain and the account of Cubic had been her's for 5 years. She had rarely met Guiseppe, his underlings being her points of contact, but on the occasions she had met him, times she could count on one hand, she was neither impressed or otherwise by the man. He was polite, interested and apparently sincere, and most certainly aloof.

Tabytha knew things, lots of things about Cubic Holdings, things that the public did not know and must not know. And yet now, in the cold light of a Roman day, Tabytha knew the truth would now out. As she sat in her room, a slight breeze lifting the elegant drapes that framed a perfect blue sky, she transferred secret after secret from the secure Williamhurst server onto a memory stick that would destroy her career. As she did so, she reasoned that the Police would accept her plea of reasonable duress, after all her one night stand had been murdered and her husband kidnapped!


As the warmth of the afternoon arrived, Tabytha made her down the cobbled ancient road, reaching the Tiber to be met by a thousand starlings circling ahead, their haunting voiced joined in chorus, the smell of their wretched guano filling the air.

Walking on over the Ponte Sisto, immense strain and extreme tiredness clawing at her every pore, she made her way to The Pantheon and the arranged handover.

Through narrow streets and eventually out into the glorious Piazza Navonne, it's beauties attracting thousands that served as a backdrop to hide her. She was convinced now her body was going to close down, every part aching , her chest suggesting an incoming cardiac, her head now separate from her body, dizziness making her feel sick with drowsiness. She just wanted it to be over.

Then at last through the Piazza Rondanini, its classical features screaming out for Tabytha's attention and even in her tortured state she tried to look, tried to deflect her internal agonies. Around the corner and down the Via Della Rosetta and there, in all it's magnificent glory, Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa's Pantheon.

Tabytha had been to Rome before with Jack, several years earlier. They had enjoyed their time in The Eternal City but the trip had not included them seeing this magnificent building. It's pure size, out ranking all in its vacinity, was awe inducing, the effect not dented by the centuries that had passed by its vast pillars and walls.

'To the Pantheon door only,' he had said, and sure enough there he was, his self assurance in full show as he laughed and joked with several police officers. She wondered whether to approach, but she had been seen and he came over to her, arms outstretched, a huge grin on his face. Within moments he was in front of her, kissing her on both cheeks whilst she passed him the data stick smoothly, as though she did this all the time. He stepped away but she pulled him back, taking him into her arms and whispering into his ear,

'I want my Jack back now!'

He stepped back and looked her up and down.

'You are a beautiful lady. I don't think you know that. You English! He does not deserve you.'

'I do not deserve him,' she fired back, her words escaping before she could stem their flow.

'Then perhaps, signora, you deserve one another. You will have him back. Your flight leaves at 6.30. A taxi awaits you to take you to the airport.'

'But,'

'They have your bags,' he said, knowing what she was going to say before she could get the words out. 'We will check we have what we need. assuming we do we will be in touch.'

She wanted to ask one of five thousand questions that were trying to form an orderly queue in her brain, but none managed to come out in time and he was gone, disappeared into the arms of the day.


to be concluded .............