Vendetta for the Saint. Read Online Free PDF Page A

black,
high-finned, gigantic, polished to the brilliance of a jewel, and com pletely out of place in the constricted antiquity
of the street. Without hesitation Simon climbed into the cavernous interior, and was not surprised to find
himself alone. Whatever Destamio might have in
mind for the future, he would hardly be so idi otic as to have the Saint
killed in his own car in the center of Naples. The windows were closed and an air conditioner whispered softly. Simon settled back into the deep upholstery and prepared to en joy the ride.
    4
    It
was not a very long journey, but it was im pressive enough. Under the driver’s skillful
touch, the car slid into the traffic like a leviathan into the deep. On all sides rushed schools of tiny
cars, battl ing and honking
through swarms of slow-moving pedestrians, small children, and animals. The din
that arose from all this came to Simon only as the gentlest of murmurs through
the thick glass and padded metal. Cool breezes
laved him and wafted away his cigarette
smoke even as he exhaled it.
    Leviathan ploughed a majestic path through
the small fry and
rushed towards the bay. Without slowing,
they swept through the gates of the port, and the guards saluted respectfully. The
Saint looked out at
the portholed flanks of the ships— only liners here, the smaller ferries were outside the fence in the public port—and had momentary qualms of a shanghaiing, until the car came to
a smooth halt next to a modernistic concrete structure something like a
giant’s pool table on spindly legs.
It had been built since his last visit to the city, and for a few seconds it puzzled him. Then he heard the roar of rotors overhead, and the
pieces clicked into place.
    “Ischia or Capri?” he asked the
chauffeur, as he stepped
reluctantly out into the steam-bath of un treated atmosphere.
    “Capri,
sir. This way, please.”
    The two island resorts of fun and sun are
eight een miles from
the city, at the outer edge of the vast bay. They are normally reached by a varied collection of yachts,
ferries, and converted fishing boats, in a
voyage that takes from one to four hours de pending on the prospective passenger’s ability to translate the misleading notices. Prosperity and
technology have now changed this for the well- heeled few and supplied a
helicopter service that covers the same
distance in a few minutes. There was one that seemed to have been
waiting only for the Saint: as soon as he was
on board, the door shut and he was
lifted as smoothly as in an elevator.
    They swung out over the incredibly blue
waters of the bay, giving him what he had to admit was a marvelous panorama, much as he thought it had been over-written in the travel brochures. The
ver tical rock walls of Capri jutting
dramatically from the sea were as impressive from the air as when seen from the more usual approach. The pilot turned in over Marina Grande, circled the top of Monte Solaro so that his passenger could ap preciate the best parts of the view, then dropped lightly on to the painted circle of
the heliport.
    This is located on the site of Damecuta, one
of the many palaces which the
Emperor Tiberius scat tered
over his favorite island, on the cliff edge just as far out of town as it is possible to get
on dry land, and as Simon climbed down he
wondered what transportation would be
provided for the last lap of the
journey. He felt sure it would be no less sumptuous than the preceding conveyances.
    Something appeared wearing the minimal
shorts and halter
which pass for clothing on that insular lido, and the Saint leisurely surveyed the
large areas of skin
which they made no attempt to cover, confident in the wisdom of his years that people who undressed like that expected to be
looked at. The vision of long tanned legs and
golden hair floated towards him with a
rotary motion that displayed its other accessories to great affect. “Mr. Templar?” it asked, in a low and throbbingly
warm voice.
    “None other,” he said