Kidnapped and a Daring Escape

by Gian Bordin

  "He deceived me completely. I would never have allowed myself to be involved with him if I had known. I feel as if I have been saved from a disaster as big as the kidnapping itself."

  "And you Mr. Villier? What are your comments on this?"

  "No comment at this point. I will wait until the police reveal more about this whole affair."

  "May I infer from that that you knew something?"

  André laughs. "Good try. No, it simply means that I don’t want to add my own speculations to those of the press."

  "So you have some speculations."

  "Don’t we all? In the meantime, we should let the police get on with their work, rather than sow possible misleading speculations."

  "Since he was the one who made the denuncia against you, are you willing to tell me how it feels seeing the tables turned on him?"

  "I would be lying to deny that I feel a certain satisfaction that he will experience first hand the process of being charged for a crime, finger-printed, and hopefully kept on remand for several days until a clever lawyer gets him freed on bail. It will be a sobering lesson for the professor. And now I have nothing more to add."

  * * *

  That evening they again watch the TV news bulletin. It shows a short clip of police cars stationed in front of Franco’s house, introducing it as ‘The continuing saga of the Pacelli kidnapping’, announcing that Professor Visconti, the person who had made the frivolous denuncia against Villier, was arrested for possession of 1858 grams of pure cocaine with an estimated street value of over 200,000 euros.

  Shortly after the broadcast, Gabriela calls, asking if they saw the news and wanting to know their reaction. "Papà is thunderstruck. I have never seen him like this. He is obviously afraid that he will never see a cent of the 200,000 he lent the professor as a personal loan."

  "Did he say anything about me?"

  "Oh yes. You know him. He always finds somebody else to blame. He accuses you of bringing Visconti into the family."

  "I see," she murmurs, feeling once more betrayed, and grabs André’s hand for support.

  "Oh sister, don’t take it that seriously. It will all blow over. He may even give you back your credit card."

  That triggers anger to surge up. "I will never accept it. Neither he nor mamma will ever see me again until they apologize both to me and to André for what they did to us."

  "You may have to wait quite a while for that to happen, but I’m sure you know that. Do you want me to pass that message on to him? I’ll make sure there is a wide table between us when I do."

  Bianca hesitates for a second and then decides against it. "If he asks, tell him, but only if he asks."

  "As you wish … Why don’t I join you shortly and help you celebrate the professor’s downfall?"

  "Thanks, but I don’t feel like celebrating. No, André and I will have a quiet evening and an early night."

  * * *

  Banking on Monday’s archaeology lecture also to be cancelled, Bianca and André take up the invitation to visit her maternal grandparents on Elba. Leaving Saturday morning, they follow the coastal autostrada to Piombino. While waiting for the noon sailing for Portoferràio, he suggests that they purchase a puzzle. They find a 1000-piece puzzle representing parts of the Sistine Chapel ceiling. They also pick up the weekend issue of Il Messaggero. Its front page features a small photograph of André with a fat headline ‘Villier reveals all — pages C3-4’ and underneath ‘Villier’s accuser arrested on drug charges — A2.’

  Her grandfather awaits them on the wharf at Portoferràio and drives them to the seaside village of Biòdola where the couple lives in a small villa overlooking the waters. After also meeting her other grandmother, André appreciates why they are Bianca’s favorite. The grandmother does her best to reconcile Bianca with her mother’s difficult character and points out that her loving relationship with André is now the most important thing for her to cherish and nurture. That evening, the four of them work on the puzzle. Her grandfather inserts the last two pieces at ten thirty, after which they have a nightcap.

  They are back in Rome Monday evening. Carlo reports that at least half a dozen reporters and several paparazzi inquired after them. The prospect of having to face these people following the publication of his story was one of the factors that enticed him to get away from the city.

  Tuesday, he takes Bianca on a long walk — his private tour of Rome: the Spanish Steps, the four fountains, listening to a flute player in Piazza Navona, across Ponte Sisto into Trastevere, several gems of small churches and century-old buildings hidden in the maze of streets, the flee market near Ponte Palatino, and then along the river back to Piazza de’Fiori.

  "I feel like a tourist, visiting a city I’ve never seen," exclaims Bianca several times.

  * * *

  Later that day, André receives notice that the net fee so far for his story amounts to over 150,000 euros, and more is expected from further sales and translations into other languages, including Japanese. Bianca gets a new credit card. They are suddenly flush with funds.

  That night they join Gabriela at a disco, dancing well into the early morning. They meet up with Gallizio and Chris. Gallizio tells them gleefully the latest gossip from the Questura. Commissario Farnese has been ordered to present herself forthwith to the Questore of Brindisi in Puglia. After Visconti’s arrest on drug charges her continued presence has become an embarrassment.

  Wednesday, they receive their license to marry. André immediately calls his mother and arranges for her to fly to Rome for their civil wedding, scheduled for Friday early afternoon.

  He picks up his mother in Bianca’s car late Thursday, while the latter attends classes. They share an intimate dinner at another of André’s favorite restaurants that evening.

  Friday morning, Bianca and André’s mother go to a hair salon. Later the three take a taxi to the Registry Office. Bianca wears her Timbio outfit, which André’s mother praised lavishly, while Bianca admired the woman’s simple but elegant dress that enhances her tall stature. They meet up with Gabriela and Gallizio who serve as witnesses to their exchange of wedding vows. They cannot avoid several reporters and a TV crew that ambushes them. André wonders who informed them. His suspicion falls on Gallizio, the only one not surprised by their presence, but he does not resent it.

  After the ceremony, they gather for a sumptuous luncheon at Crivelli’s. The man outdoes himself: air dried beef, imported from the Swiss Alps, almost see-through so thinly sliced it is, with sweet melon cubes, salmon ravioli in a delicate mushroom sauce, duck on a polenta base, with snow peas, tiramisu for dessert, followed by a selection of cheeses with grapes, coffee and liqueurs. It is evening by the time they part company with Gabriela and Gallizio. The latter swears that he will take his friends to this culinary discovery.

  When Gabriela kisses them goodbye, she proclaims with a mischievous grin: "And tonight, my dear sister, you may legally consummate your marriage to that gorgeous man of yours. I won’t deny that I’m jealous."

  Saturday, they take André’s mother on a drive into the Colli Albani. She wants to see Castel Gandolfo, the Pope’s summer residence. They also drive by Bianca’s parents’ mansion and have a quick glimpse through the iron gate. She flies back to Geneva Sunday afternoon.

  * * *

  That night, cuddling up to each other in bed, they reminisce on their short but turbulent time together.

  "You know, Bianca, we should actually be grateful to Franco for having brought us together. We might never have found each other without him."

  "I thought that we agreed to banish Franco from our bedroom," she teases him. "Or do we make one final exception to this rule? But I agree with you."

  He touches the tip of her nose, smiling. "I love you," he murmurs.

  "That’s what you promised to do forever, in case you’ve already forgotten."

  "I have not. Do you want me to prove it to you?"

  "I know what that means, but loving me is more than just
making love."

  "I actually had in mind to give you a full body massage, from the tip of your nose down to your small toes, visiting the many delicious treasures in-between."

  She throws back the covers and cries: "Yes, I accept that kind of proof."

  "All right, turn over. I’ll do your back first."

  * * *

  To Bianca’s surprise, her father storms into the pensione Monday morning while they’re sitting at breakfast. He does not greet them, but launches immediately into a tirade shouting at her. She cannot help but shrink into her chair.

  "Is there no end to the humiliations you heap on me, you ungrateful child? Do I have to hear on TV and read in the newspapers that my own daughter got married without any of her family being present?"

  "Buon giorno, Signor Pacelli," André cuts in. "With all due respect, I told you the first time we met that Bianca and I were going to get married. I even asked for your blessing. I do not make such announcements lightly."

  For a moment, this takes the wind out of her father’s sails. Then his tone turns into a hiss: "I will take care of you once I have taught my daughter some manners, you insolent fellow."

  "Insults won’t cut with me, signore, and your daughter has perfect manners. She is now my wife and I don’t take it kindly if anybody shouts at her, even if it is her father. So, please, Signor Pacelli, take a short walk into Piazza de’Fiori, and when you have calmed down, we may be able to talk in a constructive manner and hopefully resolve our differences. It seems to me that you are currently not in an emotional state that allows clear and logical reasoning."

  Her father’s mouth opens wide. He gasps as if somebody has poured a bucket of cold water over him. Nobody has ever dared talking to him like this.

  "Thank you, André," she murmurs.

  Her father closes his mouth and turns his face to her. But he is still speechless. Then suddenly, he slumps down on the nearest chair and covers the face with his hands. She is deeply shocked when she sees his shoulders shake convulsively.

  André whispers: "Go to him."

  She kneels next to her father and puts a hand on his shoulder. "Papà, let’s make peace, please." Tears shoot into her eyes. "I still love you. Please."

  He slowly removes his hands, his eyes searching hers, and then draws her close in a desperate embrace, his shoulders still shaking a few times. Finally, he let’s go and murmurs: "Please, Bianca, forgive me. I love you also. I feared I had lost you."

  She responds with a half sob half chuckle and wipes her tears. "I also feared I had lost you." She pulls him up and says: "Come, papà, join us. Have a coffee."

  André quickly pulls another chair to their table. Carlo, who during this whole interchange remained standing in the door now comes over and asks: "An espresso, or a latte, Signor Pacelli? What do you prefer?"

  Her father looks up to Carlo, not yet fully recovered, nods and then says: "An espresso."

  "Subito, signore."

  Nobody speaks. Her father’s eyes are still on her. She offers him a timid smile. She has never seen this proud man in such a state of utter discomposure, looking beaten and uncertain. Carlo brings the espresso.

  "Here, papà," she says, sliding the cup closer to him.

  He takes a sip, his eyes never wavering from her. "Will you forgive me, Bianca," he begs again.

  "Yes, papà, I do, I have. I’m so glad you came. Will you now also make peace with André?"

  He turns his face to him. It takes a moment before he speaks. "Signor Villier, I misjudged you. I was led to believe that you were the vilain. Please, accept my apologies."

  André offers his hand, saying: "Gladly, it has never been my intention to alienate Bianca from her family. That is not a good foundation for a marriage. But please, call me André and may I call you by your first name?"

  "Yes, please. I’m Giorgio."

  They shake hands. Another awkward silence follows. Bianca suddenly doesn’t know what to say anymore. A scene that started so ugly André’s calm but firm reasoning resolved into a measure of harmony. Finally, she chuckles, saying: "We are a funny lot. We suddenly have nothing to say to each other anymore."

  "Yes, my love, you are right," replies André, "but peace and harmony require few words. It’s fighting that brings forth a gush of words we often regret afterward."

  Her father chuckles, embarrassed. "Well spoken. But now, André and Bianca, it is my dearest wish that we celebrate your wedding with a proper church ceremony, and then I also need to talk to André about your dowry."

  She cast a quick glance at André. The smile has vanished from his face and she knows why. It is the word dowry. But before she can intervene, he responds: "Giorgio, I married your daughter for what she is, not for the money she may ultimately inherit. I already once decline your offer of money, so please don’t offer me more. We are currently and for the foreseeable future well off financially, and until Bianca finishes her university degree we will not set up a permanent home. When we do later on, we will be pleased to accept some gifts of nice things for our apartment." He turns to her. "Or do you feel differently about this, Bianca. We’ve never spoken about it. Naturally, if your father wishes to give you money for you to manage, that is between him and you."

  "No, André, I fully agree with you. So please, papà, no more talk of money."

  "You are two strange people. Everybody likes to get money. But we can talk about this some other time."

  "Giorgio, when I was in jail, a teenage boy who was arrested selling drugs also said everybody likes money, and I told him that the only money that smells sweet is the money you earn honestly with your own hands or your own brain."

  She burst out laughing. It feels like a release of tension. "Yes, I remember. It was in your write-up of your first 48 hours … wasn’t it?" As she speaks, she becomes aware that mention of his time in jail could embarrass her father, and she stops herself short.

  "Yes, I also told him that the money he gets selling drugs smells and tastes acrid, but he didn’t believe me."

  "But what about a proper church wedding?" her father interjects, exasperated.

  She looks at André. She knows that he is not religious. In fact, she knows that he does not believe in God or his existence. So she is all the more surprised when he nods.

  "Yes, papà, that would be nice, but not one of mamma’s big parties with hundreds of people, most of whom I don’t know or don’t really care for."

  "How about if Bianca and I find a small church or chapel somewhere in the countryside around Rome," André interjects, "one that only seats two or three dozen, and then after the ceremony we all share a nice meal with a good drop of wine in a country taverna, maybe even do some dancing. In fact, I know of this chapel near Tivoli that would just be right, and there is even a restaurant nearby. I’m sure that my favorite caterer, Signor Crivelli, will be happy to prepare a festive meal for us."

  "Yes, I would like that," she exclaims. "Will you show it to me tomorrow?" He nods. "And we only have our immediate family there and a few old friends —"

  "As well as one or two new ones, like Ernesto."

  "Yes, definitely Ernesto." She sees her father’s consternation. Nothing is going his way, it seems.

  "But people will then think that we don’t approve of your marriage and that this is the reason for such a modest celebration," her father interjects.

  "André, do we really care that much what other people think and gossip about?"

  "Hardly. Sooner or later another scandal will occupy their mouths."

  "Oh, André, you have a way of putting things," she laughs, while her father frowns.

  "Your mother won’t like that," he tries once more.

  "She’ll just have to get used to the fact that she cannot rule my life any longer."

  THE END

  Other novels by Gian Bordin:

  Historical fiction:

  A Summer of Love

  The Twins

  A Threesome

  Anna, the Re
luctant Courtesan

  Chiara’s Revenge

  Thrillers:

  Ultimate Dare

  Frame-up

  Science fiction:

  Yuen-mong’s Revenge

  Yuen-mong’s Challenge

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

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  Other Books by the Author