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Back The Last Mona Lisa Save as PDF
Contents ( 109)
  3. Contents
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. 65
  69. 66
  70. 67
  71. 68
  72. 69
  73. 70
  74. 71
  75. 72
  76. 73
  77. 74
  78. 75
  79. 76
  80. 77
  81. 78
  82. 79
  83. 80
  84. 81
  85. 82
  86. 83
  87. 84
  88. 85
  89. 86
  90. 87
  91. 88
  92. 89
  93. 90
  94. 91
  95. 92
  96. 93
  97. 94
  98. 95
  99. 96
  100. 97
  101. 98
  102. 99
  103. The South of France
  104. Author’s Note
  105. Reading Group Guide
  106. A Conversation with the Author
  107. Acknowledgments
  108. About the Author

I crept along the house to another window. Peered into a room opulently furnished with velvet couches. Gilded mirrors. A Persian rug covering the floor. All obvious rewards of the duo’s unscrupulous dealings. I heard the tinkling sound of a phonograph record. I saw Valfiero and Chaudron at a table across the room. Each with a glass of wine. Valfiero puffing on a cigar like some South American potentate. Chaudron was in a paint-stained smock and appeared to be singing along with the music.

I fumbled the knife from my pocket. I flicked the blade open. I allowed my rage to build. Then I sprinted to the front door. Threw it open! Burst into the room! Kicked the chair out from under Chaudron and watched him tumble to the floor! I got an arm around Valfiero. Put my knife against his throat. Chaudron tried getting to his feet but I leveled my boot into his gut.

Valfiero called me DEAR BOY. Claimed they had been planning to be in touch with me.

I called him a liar. And of course he was. He acted calm though I could feel his heart pounding. He continued his charade. It was DEAR BOY this and DEAR BOY that. He said they had money for me and asked Chaudron to fetch it.

I followed him into the bedroom. Held Valfiero close with the knife at this throat.

Chaudron started to open a large wooden chest. I shoved him out of the way. Moved closer. Tried to see into the chest.

Valfiero said it was all there. Hidden under the blankets.

I leaned over the chest. Chaudron leveled a kick. I began to topple and Valfiero summoned what was left of the South American shantytown boy he had once been. He elbowed me hard and broke free. Chaudron tried to get hold of my flailing arms while Valfiero rustled through the chest and came up with a gun. He aimed at me. Told me there was no money.

I screamed I would kill him. Kill both of them.

Valfiero laughed. Called me DEAR BOY again. Trained the gun on me while Chaudron peeled the knife from my hand.

I shouted they had stolen everything from me. That they owed me. But it was no use.

Chaudron tied my arms behind my back and bound them with rope. I struggled but Valfiero pressed the gun against my temple. He wanted to kill me then but Chaudron argued they needed to wait and kill me later. Behind the house. After dark. And Valfiero agreed. He taunted me. Laughed at me. Called me an immigrant and a thief. Said no one would miss me.

They searched me. Found my other knife. Tugged the journal from my waistband. Chaudron flipped through pages. Handed it to Valfiero and he did the same. They saw I had written about them. They were shocked and amused. Said they would keep it and read it later. Then Chaudron slid it into his jacket.