“First, on the construction elevator, which would be removed when an interior elevator is available.” Jim produced more photographs. “Then like this,” he said. “A large flatbed truck pulls up as close as it can get to the rear of the house, and a crane lifts pallets of boxes or pieces of furniture and sets them down on the rear deck, from where they are taken inside by workmen. It appears that someone or some business is moving into the building now.”

“This has got to be the place,” Stone said, “by a process of elimination, if nothing else.”

“Except we’re missing the feature we’ve been searching for: the outside elevator.”

“You said they’re moving into the place—maybe they were finished with the elevator. Had to happen sometime.”

“I expect you’re right.”

“Maybe there’s a more permanent elevator on the other side.”

Jim showed him another photo. “The other side is a sheer rock face, nearly three hundred feet above the coastal highway.”

Stone looked at the photo. “This is impossible.”

“More like impossibly expensive.”

“How’s that?”

“The only place they could have an elevator would be inside the face of the cliff.”

“You mean, a vertical shaft cut out of the rock?”

“It’s the only thing I can think of.”

“Who could afford to do that?”

“Maybe somebody who owns his own construction company,” Jim said.

“Can we get plans for the building?”

“They’re on the way.”

40

After sunset, the articulated truck and trailer bearing Leo Casselli pulled to a stop at a wide place in the Amalfi coastal road. This led to a sort of canyon large enough to hold a couple of dozen cars.

The rear doors were opened and a set of steps set in place, and Casselli walked down them.

“This way, Don Leonardo,” his minion said. He led the way toward a tall, recently planted hedge that shielded the entrance to the house from sight.

“Very nice,” Casselli said, stroking the hedge like a pet.

“This way, Don Leonardo.” The man opened a heavy steel door, then another of smoked glass. A couple of steps, and they were in the new elevator. “Very good,” Casselli said. “I told the architect I wanted it big enough for a grand piano.”

“The piano is already in place, Don Leonardo. The house is ninety-nine percent ready for use, should you wish to spend the night.”

Casselli pressed the top button, and the elevator rose swiftly.

“First, the lower floor for staff, technical equipment, and kitchens, which are connected to the other floors by a dumbwaiter, then the main-floor living quarters, built to your specifications.”

The elevator came to rest on the main floor, and the doors slid open, directly into a very large living room, which was beautifully furnished with soft furniture and good art.

“It is like the architect’s drawings,” Casselli said. “It is very pleasing to me.”

“Would you like to see the bedrooms?”

“Yes.”