Giselle turned to Yvania. “You think Spratman would fly to Iceland in pursuit?”
“Sure, why not? He has a job to finish. He goes to find you, but I will have a trap for him in Kópavogur. The Guðmunds are my two nephews who live in a big place, very nice, very remote.”
“They can handle a hired killer when he arrives at their house?” Giselle asked.
“They were in Special Forces, now are underground cage fighters.”
Daniel’s fork hit the table as he turned to gape at the sweet rotund grandmother who offered him another serving of cake with a smile.
Giselle handed his fork back to him and said, “Yvania doesn’t say much about her life during the struggles against the Russians, but she’s more than a little bit scary. Don’t you think?”
“Who is wanting more dessert?” Yvania hopped up and her clogs clacked along the floorboards as she went to refill her champagne glass.
“We have some time before midnight mass,” Markus said. “What would you like to do?”
That was the magic question that got the gang out of their seats and performing hilarious versions of “It’s the Most Fattening Time of the Year,” and “We Wish You Weren’t Living with Us” to the tunes of “The Most Wonderful Time of the Year” and “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.”
After more drinks and sweets, they went to the church and took part in the Christmas Eve mass with Markus’ lovely glass lights twinkling all around the altar, much to the monks’ delight. As dawn was blushing the silent forest around the secluded abbey, the guests retired to the cozy bunkhouse.
On Christmas Eve, Gina and the boys had exchanged gifts in their apartment, and she may have used a bit too much fragrance because while they were technically supposed to renew their attempt to get her pregnant tomorrow, they’d had sex before going to the Verona palazzo to pick up Juliette, Ippy, the pope, Ivar, and various security agents for their flight to Rome.
She wondered what could be done about the scent. She was sitting between the boys and while Juliette and Ivar were oblivious—talking on the phone to Yvania, Markus, and Giselle—the boys were exchanging knowing looks and talking about nothing but becoming parents. The fragrance wasn’t water-soluble, so no remedy came to Gina’s mind.
Upon arrival at the Vatican, Vincenzo’s bodyguard and the Swiss Guard melted into inconspicuous rounds. The family went straight to the papal apartments where, unlike what she’d imagined, the meal was a simple affair. The moment the meal concluded, the boys spirited her down the hall to a small door and ushered her through it. Gina found herself inside a dark Frankincense-scented chamber with velvet tapestries on the walls and candles flickering in red votives. She was already pulling her dress up over her head as they ripped their own clothes off and, together, they made an excellent attempt at conception with her laid across a heavy low marble table.
They put themselves back together pretty well afterward, but Gina’s purse was in the dining area by Juliette, and she desperately needed her comb. Leaving the boys behind, she snuck into the hall with her bedhead and hadn’t gotten more than three strides when she heard, “Ah, you’ve returned. What a nice surprise.”
It was that frightening man. What had Ippy said his name was? Carnal?
“Uh, Buon Natale,” she stammered as she turned around to face him.
“Taking some time for prayer and reflection before midnight mass?” He looked to the door she’d just come through and then back to her. His mouth was smiling, but his eyes weren’t.
“Do you know where la contessa is? I seem to have gotten separated from her.”
“She’s just through those doors.” He pointed in the direction of the papal apartments.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“Hierotymis Karno. And you are Gina.”
“You have an excellent memory.” She looked up at him and offered a smile she hoped would be disarming.
“I do.” His expression was opaque. His eyes were all over her, from her mouth to her hair, and roaming over her body. He made no effort to move, and then his eyes slid to the door she’d just exited.
“Would you accompany me?” she asked out of sheer panic. She hoped to lure him away from the boys. “I’ve never had a tour of this area. What’s that statue over there on the end? Is it a pope?” She began walking toward it.
“There are no tours in this area,” he said as he fell into step alongside her. He took her arm and leaned close as he pointed down the hall. “That statue is Papa Gregorio XVI.”
The closer they came to the statue, the uglier it revealed itself to be. They stopped in front of a stone figure with a grotesque orb coming out of its robes that looked more like a deformed egg than a head.
“Goodness! He couldn’t have been pleased when it was unveiled. It isn’t flattering.”
“My understanding is that it’s a faithful likeness. Apparently, he didn’t have a neck. I’ve seen texts that refer to Gregorio XVI trying out several hairstyles in an effort to obscure the shape of his head, the most successful being the halo that only left the top of his pointed tonsure visible. I believe this statue was better received by Gregorio than when that awful monstrosity of Papa John Paul II was unveiled at Rome’s Termini Station.”
“The one that looks like Mussolini?”
“The very one.” She felt his hand slip around her waist.
They had just cleared the rotunda when Ippy appeared. “There you are! We’re ready to take pictures.”
She felt his hand slide reluctantly from her waist, across the small of her back, and his fingers trailed off her hip.
He said, “She’ll need a comb first.”
Gina prayed he’d keep walking in the direction she’d led him, or at least not turn around to see the boys come out of the closet.
Raphielli had been reeling from the impact of Luigi Lampani’s news when Benny emerged from the bathroom holding a pregnancy test stick in front of her. The strange look on her face was impossible to read. The girl was an enigma even after a month at Porto delle Donne. Kate, Raphielli, and Constanza pushed forward and they huddled around Benny staring at the test stick. One pink line would appear in the window for negative, and two pink lines for positive.
They watched as one appeared, and then Raphielli’s vision started to blur as the second one materialized. She felt faint and realized she was holding her breath. She let it out and blinked. It was two lines. Positive. Then the three women all focused on Benny. The girl was swooning with her eyes closed, fingertips of her left hand pressing her eyelids. Then she opened them again and brought the stick practically up to her nose.
Kate and Constanza plucked the stick out of Benny’s hand and launched into a debate about the efficacy of tests, while Benny reached out and took Raphielli’s hand. There was a light in the girl’s eyes and she was shivering minutely.
Raphielli drew her over to the little bed, sat her down, and put an arm around her.
Benny breathed, “I’m carrying the most important baby in the world.”
Raphielli squeezed her and thought about how Salvio had believed he was God’s son, sort of like Jesus’ brother. What had he told his followers? She wondered exactly what Benny believed. “We’ll take good care of you and your baby. Everything’s going to work out.”
“Now more than ever…we absolutely can’t let my parents get a hold of me. Before, I was just…me…but now…they’d lock me up somewhere and give my baby away to…them.”
“We’ll protect you.” She thought about the baby being a Scortini. What part of the estate should I set aside as this baby’s inheritance? What is appropriate? Who should I ask?
Benny sat staring at the glossy black trainers on her feet which she’d had Kate order for her. “Luigi’s gonna put my parents in jail for what they did.”
“He might. He’s very good.”
“He’ll keep them away from me, right?”
“He’ll try.”
“I wish he was my dad.” S
he reached up and grasped her new pendant, a clear glass heart with flecks of red and gold suspended inside like sparks.
“You mean a lot to him, too.”
There was a knock at the door and Paloma stuck her head inside. “Come on ladies! It’s Vigilia di Natale! Time to eat and open presents. The promise that the kids don’t have to wait for Befana has them freaking out.”
Kate’s aunt had created a homey feast from the sea. Conversation was lively until Ottavia and Nanda began arguing whether octopi were fish. Nanda insisted octopi were mollusks, which she asserted was a fish, while Ottavia swore octopi were cephalopods, not fish. Then everyone joined in offering knowledge, such as octopi are intelligent and can work puzzles and have no bones whereas squid have a “pen” backbone of cartilage and only use two arms to capture prey.
Leona ended the debate with, “I don’t care if you say it’s a fruit, I’d like another helping before the kids down at that end eat it all. Pass it back up this way.”
After dinner the women, children, and staff gathered at the tree to open the gifts Raphielli had bought with each person in mind. By now they all knew she was the founder and benefactor of Porto delle Donne, but she avoided any awkwardness about the gifts when she hired a couple of actresses dressed as elves to deliver the presents and sing a jaunty little song entitled “No Peeking at Your Gifts.” It was a racier performance than she’d expected, but the women and their children loved it. Kate had kept Benedetta out of sight on the chance the actresses might recognize her.
The children ripped open their presents and played with their games and stuffed animals. All the women ooh-ed and ahh-ed over their boxes of flannel pajamas, new slippers, and body lotions. By the time the guard buzzed to announce that Alphonso had arrived to walk Raphielli and Paloma home, the ladies were relaxing in front of a fire nibbling cookies and sipping spiced hot tea.
“My family’s excited to meet you,” Alphonso said as they headed down the fondimenta.
“Me, too. It’ll be good to meet the Vitali clan.” She lost her footing on a patch of ice and grasped the metal bars on a nearby window to keep from falling. “Woops!”
Alphonso took hold of her as they moved on and she continued, “I know Cardinal Negrali’s assuming I’ll attend his mass…”
“You see him every day and you didn’t tell him?”
“I chickened out. I don’t want the hassle of getting his blessing, and frankly, lately whenever I’m at the Little Church, he shows me off like a trophy. It’s embarrassing. I don’t want to go through that tonight. And I really want to be with your family, so I didn’t say anything.”
“Well, you’ll like Chiesa di San Zaccaria. All of our family is baptized, married, and mourned there.”
Paloma said, “I went to a wedding there when I was a teenager. The paintings are incredible. Hey, there’s a secret marble swimming pool under the church.”
Raphielli’s knees buckled for a scary second and she felt Alphonso falter beside her.
“Jeeze, you two should walk over here where the ash was spread. You’re gonna end up in the canal if you stay on the slick side of the calle.”
Raphielli’s mouth wouldn’t form words, and her mind spun loose in its moorings as Alphonso said casually, “A marble swimming pool? I’ve never seen it, and I’ve been going there my whole life.”
“I bet nobody knows about it. But a boy I was dating, he was bored and looking for a place to fool around and smoke a little weed, so we went way down under the church.”
“Just like that?”
“He broke a few locks,” she admitted, sounding contrite. “The padlocks were so old and rusted, he just kicked ‘em a few times and they broke. But before we went back upstairs, we fixed everything to look like we hadn’t been there.”
Raphielli looked up at Alphonso, and his expression told her they’d be sneaking around under the church during midnight mass.
The three arrived back at the palazzo with enough time to take naps before dressing for church.
It was five minutes to midnight when Zelph, Paloma, Raphielli, and Alphonso came out of the cold into the warmth of Chiesa di San Zaccaria. Raphielli looked above the heads of the milling crowd and eyed the paintings around the narthex. Paloma was right, they were incredible. A crowd of Vitalis enveloped the big cousins, all talking at once. “Boys, over here! Where ya gonna sit? We all saved you seats!” It was pandemonium in different pews as everyone started pointing at once, people moved coats all over the place, and other families were asked to shift and make room.
Before they’d decided where to sit, the organ music swelled to a crescendo so loud it silenced everyone, then the lights blinked to signal the mass was about to begin. The four of them snuck away when the lights went low, and they hustled along following Paloma, who was speed-walking down a side aisle. Ready with a story that they were looking for the bathroom, they ducked into a side passage, through a back door, and then down a series of corridors. They didn’t encounter anyone, and finally they were in a dark alcove standing in front of a gate covered with flakes of black paint and rust.
“He broke that lock. We just pulled the gate into place.”
Zelph pulled, but it didn’t budge. “It’s wedged against the stone floor. Here, Al, help me lift it a bit.”
The boys opened it, revealing eroded stone stairs.
As they descended, the air quality changed, becoming warmer and more humid. Raphielli felt tingles of anticipation and looked around for Alithinían symbols, but there were none. They stood at a metal door that had bars welded where the handle should be, and a chain with a padlock wound around it.
“Twist it, it’s not locked,” Paloma said with certainty.
She was right.
They removed the lock and chain, and when they crowded through they were standing on a landing above a medieval cistern with an arched ceiling. It was nothing like an Alithinían temple.
“Cool, riiight?” Paloma grinned and swept her arms like a tour guide. She noticed the looks of disappointment on their faces. “Fu-- I mean wow! You guys are hard to impress.”
They put the doors back into place, snuck into pews, and finished the mass like good Catholics.
After the service, they went to Zelph’s parent’s home for a big noisy crowded family meal. Raphielli had never experienced anything close to this at home when it had just been her parents and nonna before her father had died. Then at the abbey they ate in silence. Here, people talked a blue streak as they ate at every surface, and their tented back courtyard was set up with tables mounded high with a feast for an army. Raphielli felt Alphonso watching her, trying to discern if his family was getting on her nerves with all their laughter, cheek pinching, and hugging. But she loved every minute of it.
A cousin’s nonna brought up the fact that Alphonso’s parents had been gone since he was a baby, but then made animated sweeping motions with her hands before brushing them together to show that topic was done. While Raphielli was squished between two of the boys’ vivacious-yet-maternal great-aunts, she formed the opinion that Al had ended up in a family she’d have loved to have been raised in.
CHAPTER
8
On Christmas morning, Luigi and Gladys had a breakfast they used to enjoy when they were dating. They sipped mugs of steamed milk with chocolate syrup, and while he stood at the cast iron pan in their little kitchen frying panettone cakes in brown butter, Gladys wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed the back of his neck.
“You’re gonna get burned with this butter splatter. Eh? I’m frying here.” He bent at the hips and pushed her back with his butt.
“She never answered your question,” Gladys said without preamble. Benedetta had been on both of their minds.
“I know.”
Gladys came around to stand next to him. “She threw you a big red herring.”
“Apparently not a red herring. She’s really pregnant.”
“Ow!” Gladys jumped away as she wiped a splatter of
butter off her cheek with the back of her hand. “She also showed us that a severe shock can cure one of your headaches.”
“Mmm-hmm. Didn’t cure it, just made me forget it momentarily. This development complicates the Scortini estate.”
“Why’s that?”
He turned to look at her as he dropped the bombshell. “She’s carrying Salvio Scortini’s baby.”
She stood stunned, so he gave her something to do. “Get us some plates.”
While eating the browned buttery cake, she asked, “She was raped? Do you think she’ll demand Raphielli give her baby half the Scortini estate?”
“She was, and I don’t think she’ll have to ask. Raphielli’s a good girl. She’ll do what’s right. She’s got more money than she could ever spend.”
“Benny’ll need her parents’ help with the baby. Why are you hiding her from them? They’re all over the news looking for her.”
“You can’t tell a soul.”
She looked hurt. “I’ve never spilled one word of what you’ve shared with me.”
“Her parents sold her to Salvio, or something like that. They were trying to get her pregnant, maybe to get part of the estate. But there’s some bizarre religious twist to the whole Salvio murder case that I can’t get a handle on. I think Benny can help me, but she doesn’t trust me…yet.”
“That’s why you were trying to get her to admit that she’s not Catholic?”
“Not just that, I think she’s Anti-Catholic.”
“Who are you? Torquemada?”
“Torka-who?”
“The grand inquisitor in the Spanish Inquisition. There was more than one Inquisition.”
He shook his head.
“Come on Luigi, you don’t have to study religion. Even social studies teaches how the Catholics oppressed, tortured, or even killed anyone they felt was undermining the Catholic Church.”
“Well, I know the Catholic Church has warred against the Muslims for the holy land throughout history, but I don’t think Benny’s a secret Muslim.”
Surviving Venice Page 18
