Fifty-one

 

Casa Orlando was empty and heartbreaking in its silence. As they climbed from the car, Zoparella pointed towards a grave. It was very simple with a small headstone. Not for Rafaela the huge mausoleums wealthy Italians adored. Discreetly Zoparella and Sam left Edward alone.

He stood for a while, and felt tears roll down his cheeks. Then he knelt and tried to say a prayer. He had never been a religious man.

A new workshop had been built at the back of the house, near the spot where Edward and Rafaela had buried the looter after the earthquake. In the centre of the room stood a bulky object covered with a white sheet. Zoparella switched on an overhead light, and removed the cloth.

In front of them stood a huge engine on a steel stand, its various parts in different colours among the gaudy leads and pipes and copper exhausts.

‘This is the Uschetti marine engine,’ Zoparella said. ‘Petrol driven. The Commandante felt it was years ahead of its time. It has been tested in a boat over fifteen metres long, and it gave a speed of forty knots. On board was a weight equivalent to two heavy machine-guns and two torpedoes. This is without doubt the marine engine of the future. What do you think?’

‘We can hardly judge something like this in five minutes,’ Edward said. ‘But a day or two ought to do it. Is there somewhere we can run it?’

‘There is a boat in the Orlando basin at this very moment equipped with the twin of this engine.’

 

The boat was of wooden construction with thin doublediagonal planking on light timbers backed by stringers and more rigid frames. Zoparella introduced them to a small, swarthy man in overalls.

‘Tomaso Spoli,’ Zoparella said. ‘He can hold his tongue.’

‘How long have we got?’ Sam asked.

‘As long as you like. But, of course, we’d prefer an answer sooner rather than later.’

Guided by Spoli, Sam and Edward checked the controls.

‘Beautiful boat,’ said Sam. ‘A real beauty.’

The engines started with a bang and a rumble. Casting off, they moved slowly into the bay with Spoli at the wheel.

‘Take her well out,’ Edward instructed. ‘Away from prying eyes.’

‘She feels good, Ted,’ said Sam.

As Spoli opened the throttle, the bow rose but the spray was flung out sideways, and the boat held steady in the water with none of the dangerous lift that had killed Leroux.

They took her well out to sea and put her through her paces – tight turns, sudden stops and crash starts. She performed immaculately.

‘Shove in one of those electric petrol pumps,’ Sam said later. ‘And a supercharger and – oh, God, Ted, you’ve got a bloody miracle. This is a fifty-footer, Ted with one engine. Imagine a sixty-footer with two. It would carry everything any navy could want and still be fast.’

‘It would eat petrol.’

‘Why not fit two smaller auxiliary engines as well? Each eight or ten horsepower for cruising at low speeds. You could clutch the engines somehow over to the Uschettis when you wanted extra power.’

‘It’s superb,’ Edward told Zoparella later. ‘Both the power-plant and the boat. I wish they were mine.’

‘They are,’ Zoparella said.

 

‘Are you prepared to emigrate, Sam?’

The two men had been left to discuss Rafaela’s proposition in an outer office. The idea was for a joint partnership to develop the engine, and finally to take it to America.

‘Sounds all right to me,’ said Sam, incredulous at this unexpected good fortune. ‘Rosina won’t mind. Alessandro’s there already. Florida will suit Rosie fine. She’d have the whole damn family there in a couple of years.’

‘So is it a deal?’ said Edward.

‘It’s a deal,’ said Sam, with the widest grin Edward had ever seen.

They shook hands.

‘Then shall we go back and inform the three wise men of our decision?’

‘After you,’ replied Sam, inclining his head as he opened the door.

 

‘There is one final condition, you see,’ Montesi told Edward. ‘We could not disclose it until you had agreed about the engine. If you had refused – and I have to confess no one thought you would – I was to handle it as best I could. But, now you have accepted responsibility, I will explain the main reason why it was left to you. Everything depends on your answer.’

Montesi paused and took a deep breath. ‘The Signora left a child,’ he said. ‘She hoped, and prayed, that you would take her and care for her.’

Edward didn’t see himself as a father to someone else’s child, but he felt confident that Ginny would not raise any violent objections.

‘I’m sure that will be possible,’ he said at length. ‘Where is the child?’

‘At my home,’ Zoparella said.

‘The child isn’t Uschetti’s?’ he asked cautiously.

‘No, Signor Edward,’ said Zoparella. ‘The child is yours.’