Man on Fire by A. J. Quinnell Page A

reservation, and she had obviously been a good waitress and popular, because the owner gave them personal attention and a good table. He told Creasy that Maria was being modest in telling him that she had been a mere waitress. She had helped in the kitchen as well, and was a fine cook. The Ballettos often ate there and that was how they came to hire her. He joked with Creasy that, after Maria's cooking, the meal would be an anticlimax.
    It wasn't. First they had a light pasta-penne alia carrettiera, followed by lamb braised with wine, peas and rosemary. They were a relaxed trio. It was Creasy's first night out since starting the job, and Felicia's obvious enjoyment was infectious.
    Elio was surprised at Creasy's mood. It was a distinct change from that of a month before. He wasn't loquacious or smiling from ear to ear, that wouldn't have been Creasy, but he took Felicia's good-natured teasing easily and even cracked a couple of dry jokes. Felicia wanted to know all about the Balletto household and particularly Rika, who was well known as a socialite and hostess. Was she really as beautiful as her reputation had it? Creasy affirmed it. By any standards, she was beautiful, and naturally so.
    "Are you attracted by her?" Felicia asked with a disarming smile.
    Creasy nodded without hesitation. Any man would be. It was just a fact of life. He pointed to her plate where the lamb was fast disappearing. "Just as the taste buds are attracted to fine food, or a special wine."
    "What about the girl? Is she like her mother?"
    Creasy considered carefully, and the other two could see that the question interested him. He decided that, as to her looks, she would turn out equally beautiful. It was already beginning to show. He thought her character might be different. She was more of an extrovert. She's curious, he told them, curious about everything. But who knew? With her full blossoming she might change. Great beauty often brought inhibitions.
    Creasy found himself thinking about the girl. Since the night he had explained about the boat people, she had asked him one or two other questions in a direct and open way, obviously keen to widen her knowledge.
    Just the day before, driving to school, she had asked from the back seat about "human rights." It had become a big issue in the papers, with President Carter expounding on the subject and other statesmen jumping into the act.
    He had answered that it meant freedom of the individual and the right of all to the basics of life within a community.
    Again she had probed with well-put questions until he had amplified that oversimplification, and they had arrived at the school with him talking about left-and right-wing regimes and the meaning of democracy.
    He had expected her to take up the subject on the way home, but she had remained silent.
    His thoughts were interrupted by a man approaching their table. It was Vico Mansutti, who had come in with two other men.
    "It's Mr. Creasy, is it not?"
    Creasy introduced him to Elio and Felicia and watched him turn on the charm, white teeth gleaming beneath the wide black mustache.
    "You have excellent taste," he said to Creasy. "This is one of the best restaurants in Milan. How was your meal?"
    They all agreed that it had been excellent, and with a final flash of teeth at Felicia he rejoined his companions. A few mintues later Zagone came over to offer them a liqueur, compliments of Mr. Mansutti.
    "He's charming," said Felicia, after ordering a cognac.
    Creasy looked at Elio and a gesture of the shoulders, very Italian and expressive, told him that they agreed about Mansutti.
    "A shark," said Elio. "But a clever one. He's building a big reputation. His contacts with government and business are solid. It's also rumored he has connections with the Mafia." He made a wry face. "But that's not unusual. These days it's hard to find the dividing lines between crime and government and business. Incidentally, there's talk that he's having an affair with your