But right now he needed to rest, because this headache was so very bad…
Gio made his way out from under the labyrinthine bridges, jogged up the steps to the calle, and turned the corner in front of Scortini Palazzo, almost knocking over a cardinal dressed in formal vestments who was rushing toward the palazzo steps. It had to be Raphielli’s cardinal; she must have called him before Salvio hung her. Gio called out, “Excellence Negrali?”
“Sì?” Negrali skidded to a halt, nearly losing his balance. “Who are you?”
Gio clasped the cardinal’s shoulder. “I’m a friend of Raphielli’s. Salvio returned to Venice and attacked her.”
Negrali took a harsh intake of breath, and made the sign of the cross.
“She’s alive, but that poor neck of hers has really paid the price.”
“Santo Madre!”
“But, she fared better than Vincenzo Verona.”
“What? What?” The cardinal became frantic.
“He’s under the far side of the palazzo in a little boat.” Gio turned and pointed to the path under the private bridges. “Scortini smashed his head in. I’ve called an ambulance. You should go give him his last rites.”
“Oh, no!” Tears began coursing down Negrali’s face, and he choked back sobs.
“Aspetta!” Gio grabbed Negrali by his vestments to prevent him from racing off. “I’ve got to stop Scortini. Where is Gabrieli? Do you know?”
Getting himself under control, the cardinal choked, “Every morning now he is with his team at Verdu Mer.” Negrali pointed. “It is just past the market calle.” Openly crying now, he turned away from Gio. “I must go to Vincenzo now.” And he rushed off in the direction of the decrepit green cove.
Gio ran in the direction the cardinal had pointed, and when he arrived at the construction site he stopped at the guard shack.
“Has a strange man wearing a dirty suit just come through—someone you didn’t recognize?”
“Sì, five minutes ago. A man in a rumpled suit. He was late for the meeting.”
“I have to stop that man.” Gio grabbed a hard hat off a shelf next to the guard. “Where’s the meeting?”
“First lane on the left, and then all the way down, where the orange cones are. Can’t miss it.”
“Where is Count Verona?”
“Not here. He left with Chizzoli.”
Gio ran off, trying to get his rage in check but also chomping at the bit to get medieval on Scortini, the twisted little fucker. When he arrived at the door beyond the cones and sawhorses, he pressed against the outside wall, un-holstered his gun, and peered inside. It was quiet and Scortini wasn’t there. Just an old man and woman talking to a blonde head that was hanging upside down from the broken ceiling. Holding his gun down by his leg, Gio stepped inside and asked, “Where’s Salvio?”
The three people tensed and asked in unison, “Who are you?”
The old man said, “Stay there at the door. Do not come closer.”
“My name is Gio, and I’ve come to stop Salvio Scortini. It’s very important. I believe he’s here to kill Count Verona.” The old woman pointed to a hole in the floor, as the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen swung elegantly from the ceiling, climbed down the broken wall, skirted the hole in the floor and shimmied under a sawhorse to stand next to him. The goddess joined him in peering down through the hole into the canal.
“Yvania cracked his head with her clog.” She gestured to the stout little woman.
Yvania shrugged and held up a finger as if counting. “First, I say to you that Salvio was trying to kill her! Second, I say he is too stupid to be a good killer. Who is not looking around everywhere and just walks into a room?”
The old man nodded. “She was behind Salvio the whole time.”
Gio’s eyes swept the dark surface of the water below, looking for a sign of Scortini in the canal. “He’s my responsibility, so I’ll find him and take him away for good.”
The old man sucked his teeth and then made a “good riddance” motion with his hands. “It is okay if drowning is his end. Okay with me.”
Gio stood up and offered his hand to the stunner standing next to him. “I’m Giancarlo Petrosino. At your service.”
“Giselle Verona.”
Gio reflexively grabbed both of her hands and pulled her over to the door. “Giselle, get over to the hospital. Your husband was just attacked by Salvio. Vincenzo has a head injury and should be on his way there right now.”
Without a word of response, Giselle was out the door like a shot and sprinted out of sight.
The old man hurried to the door yelling, “Markus! Markus! We have to go tell Gabrieli!” Yvania rushed after him.
Standing alone in the little office space, Gio whipped out his phone and called Primo. “Did the ambulance come?”
“Yeah, they’re taking Vincenzo to the hospital.”
“Where’s the cardinal?”
“He went inside the palazzo to check on Raphielli. Did you find Scortini?”
“He got knocked into the canal in the Verdu Mer construction area. Get over here right away. Come down past the market calle and avoid the guard shack. Slip in without being seen.”
“On my way.”
“Stake out the tidal outlets and pull him out of the water, dead or alive.”
“Got it.” He heard Primo mutter, “Hope the fucker’s dead.”
“I’m calling Drea to come get me. I need to get in to see Raphielli.”
When Drea dropped him off in front of the Scortini palazzo, he avoided the butler and anyone else who might be milling about inside by ducking unseen under Il ponte Diamanti. Following the secret entrance again, he silently bypassed the police team under Il ponte di Smeraldi. Feeling his way, he found Raphielli’s room, and lifting the heavy velvet drape he called out, “Raphielli? It’s Gio. I’ve come to say goodbye.”
The maid jumped as if goosed. “Don’t you come near her!”
Gio ignored her and came forward. “Where’s the cardinal?”
“He went to the hospital.” She glared at him.
Raphielli made a tiny dismissive move with her hand toward her maid, who reluctantly left the room. Gio was glad to see Raphielli resting in bed. Her neck was wrapped with cold compresses. He went over to her side and was relieved to see her smile up at him.
“Ah, a smile.” He smiled too. “Good.” He choked up with emotion and swallowed hard. “Raphielli, I can’t tell you how sorry I am that he escaped. I came the instant I heard, and…well…I underestimated his resourcefulness and his speed.”
With eyes wide, she mouthed, “E’incredibile, I know,” as if trying to communicate just how well she knew her husband’s speed and viciousness.
“Don’t try to move your neck or shoulders for a while. I’m impressed you were able to hold onto that cord.”
A hint of pride showed in her expression.
“Primo is looking for him now.” Gio rubbed her hand. “We’ll get him, and I’ll never, ever let him escape again.”
He could see her relief.
“I assume Cardinal Negrali told you about Vincenzo.”
She squeezed her eyes shut.
Gio bent over her. “If you go to the hospital you’ll have the police crawling all over the palazzo and asking stupid questions. You and I both know this was Salvio and how he got in here. So I’m sending the best doctor I know to come take care of you. He’ll have you singing in no time. I promise.”
She made a face at the mention of singing, and waved her finger back and forth in a singsong motion. He kissed her forehead, and for a moment he was tempted to kiss her lovely lips.
“The police are working the crime scene where Vincenzo was found, but it’ll take them a while to figure out that it’s actually part of your house. It doesn’t even look like it’s connected to the palazzo.”
She blinked her eyes.
“Stay out of it. Nothing good can come of you talking to the police about this, and you don’t need the
stress.”
Looking exhausted she blinked again.
He headed to the door of her bedroom and then turned back. “None of my business, but this should not be your bedroom. Find a sunny room in this big old palace, and have it decorated to suit your taste. I can’t stand to think of you sleeping in this dismal old room.”
Raphielli mouthed, “Grazie.”
“And it has the smell of old lady.”
She made a face and waved him off with a flick of her fingertips.
Gio made his way back to Drea, and she found an ingenious route back to Verdu Mer. She deftly cruised the patchwork of canals until they caught sight of Primo down a deserted inlet, where Gio joined him in the search for Salvio. In almost no time they spotted him dragging himself hand-over-hand along the waterway. Gio motioned for Drea to bring the boat closer, and Primo reached into his jacket pocket for a syringe. Together they dropped flat onto the ground and pulled Scortini from the water by grabbing hold of his hair, shirt and jacket. Salvio’s reflexes seemed a bit off, and he hissed and flailed ineffectively until he saw the syringe. Then he erupted in an all-out, blood-curdling scream, and went berserk trying to scratch and bite. Primo slammed the needle in deep, injecting the veleno. Salvio shivered and went limp as they hauled him up the algae-clotted embankment and rolled him onto the pavement. The screams would bring police, so they went into high gear. Drea pulled the boat over, they dumped Salvio onto the deck, and she threw a canvas over him as Gio and Primo hopped onboard. Construction workers were gathering along the lanes trying to identify where the screams had come from, as Drea expertly piloted them from the scene in a casual manner.
“Let’s get this animal back in his cage.” Gio turned his back on the inert monster and looked toward the open water as they headed out into the lagoon.
EPILOGUE
Giselle looked expectantly at Vincenzo over the top of the card and felt her patience fizzle. “I know you know this one V, and if you would stop letting yourself be distracted, we could get through this deck.”
“Well, give me a moment.” Vincenzo gave her a quizzical look and tried to readjust himself on the enormous sofa they were sharing. “It looks like either a Rorschach inkblot test, or you’ve inverted an outline of Switzerland.”
She sneaked a quick glance at the front of the card and then turned it right side up. “Correct. It’s Switzerland.” She flipped up another brain teaser card and stared at him. “Come on now, the sooner we get through these cards the faster we can get to your French and Latin review.”
Leonardo came over to help, and while avoiding Vincenzo’s cast, he scooped his lover under the arms and gently lifted him into a sitting position. Leo was looking at Giselle like he wanted to help her as he busily plumped pillows and then stuffed them under the small of Vincenzo’s back.
She uncrossed and then re-crossed her Cerruti boots on the back of the sofa and narrowed her eyes at him. “I feel as if you’re about to make a speech.”
Leo held up his hands and sighed. “Not a speech, Gigi, but you’re pushing too hard. It’s not just you. We were all affected by the attack on V, but he’s healing just fine. His brain is fine.”
“Pushing too hard? The doctor said that doing brain teasers and language review would be beneficial. Beneficial. I’m helping.”
“I know you too well to buy any of your rationalizations. You’re coping, but you’re stressed to the max, girl.”
“We could finish this work if you weren’t distracting him.”
Vincenzo spoke up. “You’re the one who’s distracted, Gigi.”
She gathered up the cards and handed them to him, then swung her legs down and got off the couch. Pacing back and forth in front of them, she ran her fingers through her hair gathering it into a ponytail, and then began winding it around and around until she’d made a knot on the top of her head.
“Arrgh! When you’re right, you’re right…and I know you’re right!”
Vincenzo sighed. “You couldn’t be with two people who understand more how you feel.”
“Of course you guys understand—you’re the ones who’re responsible for making me feel this way.”
Leonardo glanced around. “Where’s Markus? Haven’t you two found any way to be together?”
She stomped to a halt and did her best to show her incredulity. “Hmmm, let’s see… Any time Markus and I are here in the palazzo we’re in the vicinity of any number of servants, my in-laws, Ivar or Yvania—although they told Markus and me they’re ready to find some ruse to put the two of us into a closet together so that our moods improve. I don’t think I have to mention what it’s like to have the Pope and his security team here. Then of course there’s Nigella who’s about the most attentive lady’s maid on record. Every time I turn around, I nearly trip over her.”
She turned at the sound of approaching footsteps for fear it was her maid, but it was Markus carrying a platter of sandwiches.
“Juliette and Yvania have sent their latest creation for our opinions.” He set the snacks down and started to move toward her, but paused and moved over to a chair instead. He looked between the three of them and asked, “What is happening in here?”
Leonardo retrieved one of the little bites, took it over to Vincenzo, and before taking a bite of one himself, he answered, “We were just commiserating with Giselle about your current lack of privacy.”
“Right. About that.” Markus stared from Vincenzo to Leonardo. “What are we going to do now?”
“What do you mean?” Leonardo narrowed his eyes at Markus. Giselle could tell he knew exactly what Markus meant.
“Do you not agree with me that now would be a good time for you and Vincenzo to tell his parents about your relationship?”
“No.” Leonardo’s jaw tightened.
“Why not?” Markus asked. “It is the perfect time. They are so relieved he is not dead, they will accept his sexuality.”
“I can’t believe I’m hearing this.” Leonardo rubbed his face with his hands, and Giselle could see he was flushing an angry red.
Markus pushed, “Do not try to put me off with your temper. When are you two planning to set Giselle free?”
“This isn’t anything that can be rushed. We will, when we can figure out how to handle the ripple effect of the disclosure.”
Giselle felt hopeless. “Oh, God! Just tell us what your plan is, guys. That’s fair isn’t it?”
Vincenzo shook his head at her. “Well, we’re just going to need a bit more time. Can’t you reel in your hormones? You never showed a trace of sexual interest in your entire life until you found Markus, and now all of a sudden you’re a wanton woman?”
“I’ve tried!” She tried to keep her voice down. “But when I see him my whole body reacts. And it’s not just that. I love him. We want to start our life together.”
Markus grumbled, “I am ready to rip a wall down out of frustration.”
Leo focused on her and offered her a plate. “Gigi, can’t you lose yourself in your art?”
She shook her head at the plate of offered food and went to stand in front of the huge fireplace with its crackling fire. She ran her fingers through her hair, bringing it cascading down from the makeshift bun.
“Actually, no. You know I’m flattered to be designing the houses for Verdu Mer, but making all these adjustments to blueprints isn’t art, and it isn’t what I’d call fulfilling.”
Around a mouthful of food Vincenzo said, “But your housing design is an artistic legacy that will live on for generations. People will be living in the spaces you’re creating.”
Markus interrupted, “You are changing the subject. We are not discussing art. I am staying on the subject of making Giselle my wife.”
“Just a minute here, we’re not going to be bullied into—” Leonardo was getting angrier.
“Your strategy of jumping in to protect Vincenzo and going on the offensive by calling me a bully is not going to work. The woman I love has just asked her friend to do her
the courtesy of telling her what he is planning, and he owes her that.”
Just then Juliette swept into the library along with Yvania. “What do you think? Honest opinions now.” Oblivious to the argument she had just interrupted, she plucked a napkin off the tray as she passed and draped it across Vincenzo’s chest. “I must say this is possibly one of the most successful experiments Yvania and I have had in weeks!”
Giselle saw Yvania’s perceptive eyes scanning between her and Markus, and her lips became a thin line as she regarded Vincenzo, who seemed to wither momentarily beneath her displeased gaze.
Leonardo, who looked relieved to have the women’s unintentional interference, stuffed the canapé into his mouth, nodded enthusiastically, and gave them a thumbs up.
“This is unbelievable! Is this fried shrimp?” Vincenzo said. “May I have another?”
Yvania selected another canapé and brought it to him. “We found at the Rialto Market today the most beautiful shrimp, and we make a special batter to cling to them just so!”
Juliette added, “It is like a fritti, but with corn flour, and Yvania made a sauce of mustard and cream and…”
“Cardamom! And we put on leetle slices of my bread I make from back home.”
Giselle took a bite of the miniscule open-faced sandwich, and of course it was heavenly. When she’d swallowed she asked, “What are the vegetables under the shrimp?”
“The thinnest slices of beetroot and fennel that we gave the quick poach in a bath of lemon and garlic.” Yvania gave a little pantomime with her hands to illustrate her description.
“So?” Juliette looked around the room. “How is the brain stimulation proceeding?”
Stealing Venice Page 33
