Page 116 of An Inside Job

“Still grieving for that husband of hers?”

“She’s grieving,” said Gabriel. “But not for Carlo Marchese.”

Rossetti opened his door. “Any advice?”

“Order the gnocchi with fontina. You’ll thank me later.”

***

Veronica was chatting with the maître d’ when Luca Rossetti came through the door. He offered a hand in greeting, but she gave him an intimate kiss on each cheek instead.

“How was your day, darling?”

“Busy. Yours?”

“Perfectly dreadful.” She smiled. “Until this moment, that is.”

She held Rossetti’s arm as the maître d’ ushered them to their table.Only one other table in the dining room was not yet occupied—the one in a semiprivate alcove. It was set for three people.

Veronica was looking at the drinks menu. “Shall we have an aperitif?”

“I’m on duty.”

“No, you’re not. You’re having dinner with a prominent museum director at one of Rome’s trendiest restaurants.”

“And what is the nature of our relationship?”

She sighed. “Purely physical, I’m afraid.”

“In that case, this promises to be an interesting evening.”

“In more ways than one.” Veronica directed her gaze toward the attractive, dark-suited man who was now being shown to the secluded table in the alcove. It was Nico Ambrosi. “Did you happen to notice the number of place settings?”

Rossetti nodded.

“I wonder who the third guest could be.”

“We’ll know soon enough.”

Veronica checked the time. “What do you suppose is keeping His Eminence?”

“Shall we ask our mutual friend?”

“Why not?”

Rossetti shot a message to Gabriel. The reply was instant. “Cardinal Bertoli just left the Vatican with a Polizia di Stato escort.”

“Tell me something, Luca. Why does a mere cardinal require a police escort every time he crosses the border and enters Italy?”

“If it were up to me, he wouldn’t get one.” Rossetti put away his phone. “How did you meet him?”

“Our mutual friend?”

Rossetti nodded.

“Several years ago, I helped him take down an antiquities smuggling network. Unfortunately the leader of the network turned out to be my late husband.”

“I’m sorry, Dottoressa Marchese. It was before my time.”