Three-Card Monte Read Online Free Page B

the window changed color and then froze.”
    â€œThat’s exactly it. The window turned green and . . . ”
    â€œHmm. It’s a virus that’s been going around these last two or three days. It only works if the computer is online, that’s why you don’t have to worry now. Did you have any important documents?”
    The girl with the big eyes nods, still in a semi-catatonic state. “My presentation.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œThe presentation of my seminar. The papers that I was supposed to be doing the seminar with.”
    â€œThat you’re supposed to be doing a seminar with,” Massimo repeats, a tad pedantically.
    â€œThat I was supposed to be doing the seminar with,” the girl retorts, losing her temper. “That I was supposed to be doing the seminar with the day after tomorrow! And now what the hell—”
    â€œSorry if I’m asking pointless questions, but are you sure you haven’t saved the seminar anywhere else?”
    â€œNo, why should I?”
    â€œFor many good reasons. What’s just happened, for example.”
    The girl glares at him. “I’ve always worked on that computer. How am I supposed to know that you connect to the Internet and then there are sons of bitches who play tricks on you like that?”
    Massimo might object that viruses like this have been doing the rounds for several years, and that ignoring their existence, if you own a computer, is the attitude of a Neanderthal. But, as someone having lived, Massimo knows perfectly well that arguing logically about a thoughtless act committed by a hysterical woman with that very same woman won’t get you anywhere. So he chooses to be decisive.
    â€œI’m quite familiar with the operating system you use. I think I might be able to recover a recent version of the file. When did you create it?”
    â€œLet’s see . . . a week ago, more or less.”
    â€œWhen was the last time you opened it?”
    â€œIt was open when this mess happened. Half an hour ago, I’d say. But look . . . ”
    Too late. Massimo has sat down in front of the laptop, and now his fingers are dancing over the keyboard like little pink hammers in a strange, apparently senseless rhythm. The girl tries to say something, but Massimo silences her with a gesture of the hand while with the other he continues to beat out commands on the keyboard. Then he looks at Tiziana, who came out a few minutes ago and is now following the scene as a neutral observer.
    â€œBut . . . my computer . . . ”
    â€œDon’t worry. Massimo’s a genius with these gadgets.”
    â€œYes, but—”
    â€œIn addition to anything else, he’s a graduate. In mathematics. And one thing I can say is that I’ve known Massimo for a few years now, and although he has many faults, he never talks out of turn. If he’s told you he can do it, he can.”
    â€œYes, but—”
    â€œTiziana,” Massimo says as his fingers continue to hammer the keys, “one of my many faults is that I find it hard to do things while people are standing over me. Can you all go inside, please?”
    â€œBut . . . ” says the girl with the big eyes, then looks at Massimo and sees that he has recovered the file with her presentation. She is about to smile but Massimo stops her.
    â€œI haven’t finished yet. I need time. Please go inside.”
    Obediently, the girls follow Tiziana.
    Â 
    Half an hour later, the girl with the big eyes has calmed down. Her friend has stopped looking like an anxious puppy and is now wearing an expression of calm cheerfulness that suits her much better. In the meantime, the old-timers have come outside again, and, pretending that nothing has happened, have sat back down under the elm to play cards. The girls have stayed inside and are chatting about this and that with Tiziana when Massimo comes back into