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chapter 53: with a little luck

Robert went back to the funicular station at the Piazza Umberto, and took the tram down, quietly mingling with the other passengers. When the

funicular arrived at the bottom, he walked out, carefully avoiding the ticket seller. He went over to the kiosk at the boat landing. In a heavy Spanish

accent, Robert asked, “A que horn sale el barco an Ischia?”

“Sale en treinta minutos.”

“Gracias.”Robert bought a ticket.

He walked into a bar at the waterfront, took a seat in the back, and nursed a scotch. By now they would have undoubtedly found the car, and the hunt

for him would narrow. He spread out the map of Europe in his mind. The logical thing for him to do would be to head for England and find a way to

get back to the States. It would make no sense for him to return to France. So, France it is, Robert thought. A busy seaport to leave Italy from.

Civitavecchia. I have to get to Civitavecchia. The Halcyon.

He got a change from the owner of the bar and used the telephone. It took the marin
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