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67
Hunter
* * *
One month later…
“Was it a good Christmas?”
I look out at Palatine Hill from the balcony, taking in the view before answering. “I’ve had worse,” I say, turning to find my father holding a cappuccino mug out for me.
“I’m glad you’ve come to visit,” he says, pulling his robe tighter around him. “It’s chilly this morning.”
“Let’s go back inside.”
“No, the air is good for me.”
“I can tell. I don’t think I’ve heard you coughing once since I arrived.”
“Perhaps I have longer left to go than I thought.”
“I hope so.”
“Where is Bex? Did she not come over with you this time?”
“She’s waiting for me at the Borghese. Last time she was there, she only had an hour to look around.”
“That’s barely enough time to get inside.”
“Precisely. She enjoys all the art while I sit here bored with you.”
He sits at his table, setting the steaming mug in front of him. “Did you hear about Ernesto?” he asks.
“Hall told me the commission trial had concluded. I don’t know how he persuaded them not to execute him.”
“I spoke with them privately.”
I feel my eyebrows raise. “You did? Why would you do that?”
“Because despite all his crimes, Ernesto is still my son, as are you.”
“He tried to kill me, father. He got my first wife killed.”
“You would not have been happy in that marriage.”
“That is not the point.”
“No, I suppose not, but he’s still my boy. I brought you both up. Would you have been so happy to die if your positions were reversed?”
“I wouldn’t have arranged the murder of his wife.”
“I’m not going to bicker with you over this. He will face a civilian trial, and there will be no bribery or blackmail. He will face justice as an American under their legal system. They will find him innocent or guilty, not you or me. His wife has filed for divorce. I have given her a flight ticket and enough money to start again anywhere she wishes. That poor girl. I had no idea the depth of the depravity my son had reached. I am glad he will face trial and what I assume will be a lengthy incarceration.”
“That’s what you want, is it?”
“That is what I want. Call it a father’s dying wish. I do not want him dead, but I am no fool. He must face punishment for his crimes but let it be proportionate to them.”
“I wish I had your compassion. I want that asshole wiped out yesterday.”
