Violent Daylight

by Caroline Angus Baker

  “English men are animals.”

  “Not all of us.”

  “No, not all of you.”

  “You’re the sexiest bad-ass I’ve ever seen, but you don’t deserve to be harassed.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “You know you’re smoking while sitting on a gas tank, right?”

  Canna dropped the almost-finished cigarette and twisted her heavy black boot over it. “You know me, always living dangerously,” she joked.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Canna shrugged. “Decided to go for a ride, but after half an hour all I got was stuck in traffic. Back in Milan, I would be in the countryside in that time. London is not my type of place.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “What are you doing out here on your own?”

  “I’m off to see a movie.”

  “Which movie?”

  “I don’t know; whatever is on when I get there.”

  “No date with Rebecca tonight?”

  “No, Rebecca and her sister have gone out together. They have taken the Maserati, so…”

  “Wait,” Canna interrupted. “You let Rebecca drive the Maserati? You wouldn’t let me drive it!”

  “Canna, you’re insane. You drive like a maniac.”

  “So you don’t want a ride on the back of my Harley?”

  A smile crept over Dane smile. “Maybe.”

  “You look cold, Dane. Don’t waste your evening outside with me.”

  “Would you like to go somewhere?”

  “You said that in Helsinki, and look how that night ended. It took a great deal of care to get the stains out of my dress.”

  “I promise not to stain you this time. I could introduce you to all kinds of British delights.”

  “Dude, I’m from New Zealand. We are a colony of England, so I understand the culture pretty well. What are we going to do? Have fish and chips with mushy peas for dinner?”

  “We could!”

  “Or did you mean the British delights you gave me in Helsinki?”

  “I meant more gentlemanly delights this time.”

  “Sushi would be nice right now.”

  “The movie theatre serves sushi. We could eat it and watch a film.”

  Canna screwed up her face. “Depends on the movie.”

  “I’m guessing a romantic comedy isn’t up your alley.”

  “Unless it’s a comedy with actual laughs, and people end up naked in prison with a chicken, and don’t know how it happened, then I’m not interested.”

  “That sounds like a standard night out with you.”

  “Not anymore. I’m clean, remember?” Minus the mind and body-numbing tablets in my bloodstream, and last night’s hangover.

  “You don’t seem okay.”

  “Do you believe in karma?”

  “Yes. Do you?”

  “No. But if I did, I would swear that all my past crimes are starting to come back to haunt me.”

  “No one hates you for the past except you, Canna. If I can forgive you, anyone can. First, you need to forgive yourself.”

  “Wow, that’s mighty profound insight on a cold English night.”

  Dane took his hand from his pocket and held it out. “Look, crazy girl, either we’re getting sushi and seeing a movie, or not.”

  “Do they have beer?”

  “Yes.” Dane took Canna’s hand, and she got off the bike. “You can’t have any.”

  “I know.” Canna began to limp alongside her much taller companion, her hand warm in his.

  “What happened to you?”

  “I tripped over at the hospital. I’m fine.”

  “You hurt yourself at a hospital?”

  “Only I could do that.”

  “Last night was pretty wild.”

  “Last night you walked the red carpet and gave the operatic performance of your life! One review marvelled at Dane Porter’s crystal-clear voice that sounds like gossamer silk floating through the air. Now, you’re walking your ex-girlfriend to the movies. You must feel extremely let down.”

  “Nah,” Dane smiled. “It was a shame that you and Claudio weren’t at the after-party last night. We nailed that performance.”

  “You were great in Una Furtiva Lagrima.”

  “Thank Giacomo Puccini, he wrote the opera.”

  “You interpreted it very well, as always.”

  “So, Canna, tell me the truth about last night.”

  “What do you mean?” Dane couldn’t tell that Canna had been using pills. He had been oblivious throughout their whole relationship.

  “At the hospital. You can’t honestly tell me that you’re happy about the baby.”

  Canna sighed. “I got to the hospital, and Veena had already gone into theatre with Mike, the boyfriend. After about an hour, Mike came out, holding the baby. Casamiro is a gorgeous baby. I had the boy in my arms for about a minute, and Claudio burst in the room. You should have seen it…”

  Dane waited, but Canna didn’t say any more. “What?”

  “A man seeing his child for the first time… it’s indescribable.”

  “And the baby isn’t yours.”

  Canna shook her head. “And never will be. If the universe ever wanted to punish me for my sins, it’s found the perfect atonement.”

  “You never wanted a child.”

  “I don’t. Claudio called me a stepmother. That translates to ‘second best’.”

  “Maybe it’s his way of including you in his life.”

  “Claudio is at the hospital right now, with his wife and his son, and their families. I don’t fit in anywhere.” Canna shook her head again. “I shouldn’t be saying any of this, and I’m not mad at Claudio, he has every right to be there, and to have a child and a family. I can’t deprive him of that.”

  “It doesn’t mean you have to like it either.”

  “I’m sorry, Dane. I shouldn’t talk to you about this.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “It’s not! I’m a freak, so I have no one in my life. Do you see a vast list of friends helping me out?”

  “You’re in a city that isn’t your home, so yes, you could be lonely. You’re not a freak.” Dane watched Canna throw him a look. “Okay, you’re a bit of a freak. That’s okay.”

  “I want to gather up some people and party. Henri and Erik are probably in bed with their wives. Claudio is playing Daddy, and I can’t drink.”

  “No, but we can go and sit in the movie theatre and eat sushi.”

  “That can’t be easy in the dark.”

  “You can get seats made for two to stretch out and relax. It’s good clean fun.”

  “Can we be friends after everything, even Helsinki?”

  “I love you, Canna, like a sister. All the care and concern, and none of the romance.”

  “Can people who have had as much sex as us be friends?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  “Will you tell Rebecca that we went to the movies?’

  “No, but that’s because Rebecca is neurotic. Would you tell Claudio?”

  “He is too preoccupied.”

  “You’ve had a chaotic few days. Any news about Yuri?”

  “No, not really.” The police weren’t going to find the murderer. Canna should have cared if someone else took the blame, but she didn’t. That was cold, that was cruel. As long as she didn’t go to prison, Canna wasn’t interested. Giuseppe would have been so proud. “They say Yuri died instantly. It’s sad how life can just be taken away. For all we know, it could have been an accident.”

  “A weird accident.”

  “We don’t live ordinary lives.”

  “We can for a couple of hours.”

  ~~~

  Midnight had long gone by the time Canna crawled into bed. Claudio was sound asleep. Somewhere down the hall, his parents would be sleeping, so Canna had to sneak into her own house. She wanted to wake Claudio, to talk to him, to kiss him, give him something that Veena couldn’t give him.
Canna reached out to Claudio, but stopped. An invisible barrier had appeared.

  Canna relaxed on the soft mattress and closed her eyes. The delicious calm of the codeine had begun to leave her system and a headache had appeared. Hours of laughing and spilling sushi on Dane had starved it off. Likewise the drive around town on the Harley. Poor Dane almost had a heart attack on the back of the bike. Canna shouldn’t have taken him for a ride; she had a spare helmet, but Canna doubted her ability to drive safely in the midst of the pills.

  Canna rolled over and looked at the outline of Claudio in the dark. He would hate her if he learned about the pills. Over-the-counter or not, if misused they could be harmful, even fatal. Her pupils looked like pin-points, but the combination of being in the dark, and lack of a drug overdose knowledge meant that Dane hadn’t noticed. Claudio might. Canna touched her skin; cold and clammy. She had overdosed on those pills, and now Canna had to lie in the bed, right next to Claudio and detox, and hope he wouldn’t notice. The headache and tiredness took over her body as she yearned for inner peace, but Canna knew she wouldn’t get it.

  The itchiness began the second she woke. Canna knew all about itching; her whole body itched while she took morphine. Now the codeine did the same. She awoke with leg cramps twice in the night, and tried not to cry out in agony, desperate not to disturb Claudio. Now it was light outside; Claudio had disappeared. Canna listened to the sound of voices downstairs. Oh God, Melina and Yago. Canna now had to hide in her own house.

  The reflection in the mirror didn’t lift her spirits. Her pupils had returned to normal size, but Canna looked more pale than usual; her blood pressure must have still been low. Damn pills. Codeine didn’t have the glory of morphine, but it acted like a suitable substitute. Alcohol coupled with her pill binge and her sore foot, Canna knew what she had to do – go back to Beneserre yet again. Claudio wouldn’t want her anywhere near his baby if he recognised Canna had been taking pills. If she went back to Italy, she could get away while the Ramos family visited, and Claudio would never learn the truth.

  The hot water of the shower was nothing compared to the hot tears that poured down her face. If Canna could trust anyone, it was Claudio. She could walk up to him, slap in the face, insult him, admit acts of impropriety, any immoral behaviour, any drug offence, and the man wouldn’t flinch. Now, Canna had to lie to Claudio. What was the point of trying to be happy and clean, if the only person that she loved didn’t notice when she suffered a breakdown?

  Canna stood in front of the full length mirror. Her eyes were dry behind her contact lenses, and it blurred her vision a little. Her gums had a dull ache underneath her false teeth at the back of her mouth. Her cut ankle burned with pain in her white high heels. I thought these days were over. The days of pretending to be okay, when I’m not.

  Knock, knock. Claudio’s head poked in the door. “Dios mio, you look beautiful today.”

  Canna’s heart sank. She had put up a wall, the bright outer layer of tailored clothes, perfect hair and makeup. Claudio never fell for the lie of the outer layer, but he did today. He didn’t see that Canna was crumbling. She looked down at her delicate pink silk blouse tucked into white dress trousers. “I worried that I may bump into your parents on the way out of the house. I needed to pretend to be vaguely respectable in case that happened.”

  “Mamá and Papá will have lunch with the Valadez family this afternoon before Veena comes home from the hospital.” Claudio closed the door behind him. “I thought… I thought we could go out this afternoon.”

  “Why?” Please don’t say so we can see the baby.

  Claudio stepped forward and took her hand. “Tonight, before Veena goes home, I thought I might tell Mamá and Papá that we’re getting married.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they’re my parents! Don’t be upset, but I made an appointment, at a jewellery store in Knightsbridge. If they don’t have a ring that you like, then they can design one for you…”

  “Stop.”

  “What?”

  Canna looked up again and sensed new tears in her eyes. “Save your money. I’m aware of your financial position at the moment. It’s good, but it’s not designer diamond good.”

  “Well, I can’t beat Giuseppe’s family heirloom blue diamond.”

  “The ring was insured for over one million Euros. That ring was an object, owned by my husband, to be worn by me, another owned object.”

  “That isn’t the case here.”

  “I don’t need a fancy ring from Knightsbridge, Claudio. I certainly don’t deserve one.”

  “Where were you last night? You weren’t here when we came home.”

  “I went for a ride on my bike and bumped into Dane while he was on his way to the movies. We had a chat.”

  “I hope nothing bad occurred.”

  “You mean because I’m a slut?”

  “No, I meant like you drinking alcohol.”

  “I appreciate that you’re busy with your family. This is the happiest time of your life. Don’t let the stain of having a mistress ruin that.”

  “Blinky, what the fuck?”

  “You don’t have to try and include me in your family. You don’t have to put a ring on my finger and show me off to your parents. I can stay out of the way.”

  “I don’t want you to stay out of the way; I want you to be part of my family.”

  “As me or as someone your parents would like?”

  “Why are you ruining this for me?”

  “Fine.” Canna opened the bedroom door and limped down the stairs. The moment her high heels landed on the tiles in the entrance way, Melina and Yago looked up in the living room. Claudio scrambled down the stairs, but Canna didn’t need him to hold her hand.

  “Hello,” Canna said and put her hand out to Yago, who got up from his seat. “I’m Canna, nice to meet you.”

  Yago, a tall man in his late-sixties, smiled and introduced himself. Melina, however, didn’t bother to stand. Canna saw what crossed the old witch’s mind – you’re the woman that stopped my grandson from having a happy family.

  “Canna, do you always sleep in this late?” Melina asked.

  “Mamá, Canna was working upstairs,” Claudio lied.

  “It is rude to not to come and down and say hello. Claudio told us you would be here last night.”

  “You know us drug addicts, we keep unpredictable hours.” Canna saw Claudio sink his head into his hands.

  “I’m afraid we don’t have time to chat,” Melina replied. “We’re meeting Paulo and Ana, Veena’s parents, for lunch.”

  “Don’t let me stop you from enjoying your afternoon.”

  “Poor Veena,” Melina sighed. “She has had such a tough time, giving birth and becoming a single mother.”

  “If anyone can cope with that, Veena can,” Claudio said. “Mamá, let’s not pretend Veena is a delicate lady.”

  “Canna, have you seen the baby?” Yago asked.

  “Yes, Canna was there when Casamiro was born,” Claudio said. “Canna beat me to the hospital. She took my place with Casamiro until I got off stage. Remember, Papá? I told you this.”

  “Oh yes.” The old man shook his head with a smile. “How are you, Canna? We finally get to meet the love of our son’s life. Every time our son calls home, he talks about you. He has all year.”

  “Most of it is bad news,” Melina added.

  “I’m morphine free if that’s what you’re asking. Claudio has been nothing but incredible to me while I have been recovering.”

  “Our son doesn’t have to carry everyone else’s problems,” Melina said.

  The doorbell rescued Canna from saying something else to upset Claudio. “Excuse me.” Things couldn’t get any worse.

  Perhaps they could. Canna opened the door, and there stood Giancarlo, and the man looked terrible. “Now,” he said.

  Canna looked over her shoulder and Claudio frowned back from in the living room. This ‘meeting the parents’ couldn’t go any worse. “
Outside.” Canna closed the door and shivered in the cold. “What is it?”

  “Let’s take a walk.”

  The pair set off along the quiet residential street. Giancarlo kept looking around, but they were alone.

  “Jesus, Giancarlo, what’s wrong?”

  “They’ve found Giorgio.”

  “Really? Where was he hiding?”

  “Stuffed in a bag, cut into a dozen pieces.”

  Canna stopped on the street and looked at the dishevelled bodyguard. “Tell me you’re just fucking with my head.”

  “He’s dead, Canna,” Giancarlo whispered. “He’s very, very dead.”

  The pair started along the path again. Canna wasn’t sure what to say. “When?”

  “Giorgio has been dead for weeks. They found him just outside Bergamo, not far from the boatyard.”

  “What was he doing out in Bergamo?”

  “Giorgio got killed somewhere else and dumped in Bergamo. You can see where the rubbish bag was placed from your office window at the boatyard.”

  Canna looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying, they’re going to try and pin the murder on you.”

  “I didn’t murder Giorgio!”

  “No, but you look like the perfect suspect. You have a lot to gain from his death.”

  “Who did kill him?”

  “Nobody’s talking. I need to go home to figure it out, but if I’m away, I can’t guarantee your safety. Not just your safety, but also the safety of Claudio and his baby, too. Now, you have loved ones that can get hurt.”

  Canna sighed. “I need to go to Milan.”

  “But then you are within reach of the police.”

  “I’m in reach anyway. Interpol and I are already friends. It doesn’t matter because I didn’t kill Giorgio.”

  “I bet that it was Fibonacci’s bodyguard that killed Giorgio. Fibonacci wanted him dead. It’s his guy’s style of execution.”

  “If I’m suspected of murder, the board will remove me from my spot as CEO. Fibonacci could take my place. I wouldn’t even need to be found guilty.”

  “And, of course, there is the Yuri fiasco.”

  “But I actually killed him!”

  “No one is ever going to learn that. You’ve covered that up remarkably well.”