Authors: Lonaire Drummond
Adele noticed a change in Luca. His effervescent demeanor eclipsed by the weight of a thousand worries on his shoulders. The dark shadow of suspicion cast over Cesare hung heavy in the car on the ride home. His betrayal so palpable, it’s power contorted the faces of the two brothers.
Chapter 32
The roads leading up to La Borgata overflowed with an unusual amount of traffic. Delivery trucks, scooters and cars held back by police, honked their disapproval. Whatever space not occupied by wheels was overtaken by gawkers trying to capture a glance at the spectacle which laid ahead.
“Maybe we should walk,” Luca said.
“Do you forget the reason why this crowd is here in the first place. Somebody means to do us harm. They want to accomplish their goals through whatever means available. Adele would make an easing target for them.”
Luca signaled the driver to stop. “I will walk ahead then.”
“As much as you ride my nerves, I do not want to see anything happen to you either.” Ambrogio made a phone call, shortly thereafter, one by one, people started pulling their vehicles off to the side of the road as directed by a police officer.
The pathway cleared, and they started moving, unrestricted, towards La Borgata
.
“Do not worry, Cara.” Ambrogio said. He hugged her to him as she stared up at the smoke which got thicker the closer their arrival to La Borgata became.
“I’m not worried.” Adele said. She had closed her mind to the thought of Robynne’s blood splattered all over the walls of the green way. She used the same determination to convince herself that Robynne was no where near Ambrogio’s home. A thought bound for release on her lips, never had the chance to be spoken. Glass fragments flew around the inhabitants of the car, maiming most in it’s path.
Adele’s body tumbled to the floor of the car. She couldn’t hear anything due to Ambrogio’s thick arms nuzzling her head. Her face was wet, but she wasn’t crying.
“Are you alright, Cara? Adele, are you hurt?”
“I’m not hurt. I’m just a little stunned. What happened?”
Ambrogio hovered over Adele, eyes intently surveying her for wounds. “You’re bleeding. There is a piece of glass embedded in your cheek.”
“You have cuts on your face too.” The observations continued as they rose up onto their knees.
Their roaming hands checking for what their eyes couldn’t see. A dull cry of pain broke the spell they had casted on each other. Their eyes instantly went in search of the source of the cry.
Adele shrieked in horror upon discovering Luca’s rumpled form knocked over like a sign in the street. The assailant, a rock the size of a fist, lay casually next to Luca’s head.
Ambrogio sprung into action, swiping the shards of glass off of his brother’s prone body.
“Don’t move him,” Adele said.
Although Luca was conscious, he look like he was fading fast. Blood flowed down the side of his head like a waterfall. Industrious in his efforts to minimize blood loss, Ambrogio used his shirt to plug the gash in his brother’s head.
“Your pressing too hard. It hurts.” Luca murmured.
Ambrogio continued to tend to his brother’s wounds despite his protests. “Remember Annalisa?”
“The redhead with the stunning blue eyes? How could I forget. She made the biggest mistake of her life when she chose you over me,” Luca said.
“Choosing you would have been bad for her health. I told her you had an std.” Ambrogio said.
Luca’s eyes bulged out before closing entirely. His body went into convulsions. Ambrogio tried to hold him down with his free hand to no avail. Adele joined in the struggle and together they were able to subdue him. His limbs no longer responsive, slung in all directions. Ambrogio’s ear hovered over his mouth to check for signs of life, a move promptly rewarded with a slap courtesy of a backhand from Luca.
“She was my soulmate,” Luca said. His mischievous smile a sign that his life was not in danger.
Ambrogio’s shock soon turned to loud belly rolls of laughter. “He lives.”
“She was the only woman I had ever loved.” Luca said. He pried his brother’s hands from his head. The wound had stopped bleeding. It congealed in his hair, transforming his locks into a matted blood stained monstrosity.
“We were sixteen.”
Luca winked at Adele, and she smiled back in spite of being upset by his duplicity.
“True love knows no age. You just wanted to take her from me to see if you could,” Luca said.
“I loved her in my own way,” Ambrogio said.
“Then why didn’t it last for more than three weeks?”
“Love is fleeting.” Ambrogio answered.
“You know I saw her a few months ago in Milan. She was even more beautiful than she was back then. She’s married with two children. I could have been her husband. Those children could have been mine,” Luca said.
“The ladies man wants to settle down?” Adele asked.
“Adele, you’re a good woman. I find the ones who can’t remember my name.”
“My father always said if you go looking for trash, don’t be surprised when you find it.” Adele said.
“Sound advice from an intelligent man.” Luca said.
Adele teared up. “He was.”
The arrival of an ambulance, and a recalcitrant Luca’s subsequent refusal to leave Ambrogio’s side further touched Adele’s heart. Ambrogio gently reminded his brother that he had a head injury, and he needed immediate attention. When Adele reminded Luca he stood to be the recipient of Felicita’s wrath, he relented.
The decision regarding whether to continue on to La Borgata weighed heavily on Ambrogio’s shoulders which slumped during the walk to the smoking castle. He pulled out his cell phone, urgently dialing a number when he tossed it to his left in a huff. The remnants of his phone lay gutted on the grass alongside the road.
“Why did you throw your phone?”
Ambrogio and Adele’s conversation came to an abrupt halt at the sight of the charred remains of car. A partition shielded the front of the car from view. Several police officers milled around the sizzling car, writing reports and asking bystanders questions.“I called Cesare to tell him to go to the hospital with Luca.” Ambrogio said.
Adele grabbed Ambrogio’s hand, intertwining their fingers. “You could have gone with him. I’m okay.”
“I could not leave you to fend for yourself, especially if--this is more than someone wanting revenge over business transactions from centuries ago. It’s a personal affront to our family. The recruitment of a trusted family employee has given them the upmost advantage. I need to know why Cesare has betrayed us. What could they have offered him?”
A stern-faced man approached Ambrogio and Adele, clad in protective police gear. “Mr Argentero, we might have preliminary identification on the victim in the car. We just need you to take a look at some pictures.”
Ambrogio shook the policeman’s hands. “Giacoppo Falconi, I’m sorry to have to met you under these circumstances. I’ve heard a lot about you. This is Adele, my girlfriend.”
Giocoppo barely acknowledged Adele with the slight lift of his brow. “I’ve heard many things about you and your family.”
“Good things, I hope?” Ambrogio said.
“That remains to be seen, considering there’s a body cooked well-done in your driveway.”
“We had nothing to do with the bombing. I don’t like what your implying,” Ambrogio said.
“I won’t have to imply if forensics confirms my suspicions.” Giacoppo said after handing Ambrogio a digital camera. Adele placed Ambrogio’s “she’s my girlfriend” declaration in the further recesses of her mind for safe keeping.
She strained her neck to catch a glimpse of the camera, balancing on her tip-toes, the position proved futile due to the seven inches Ambrogio had on her. From her slightly elevated vantage point, Adele saw disbelief flash in his eyes at whatever image those pictures revealed.
Ambrogio’s voice quivered as he spoke. “
Dio Mio
, the body in the car is Cesare’s.”
“How can you be sure?” Adele grabbed the camera out of his hands only to retch at a picture of a charred arm. That arm still wore a watch, although it was a melted, disfigured mess.
Ambrogio pointed at the arm in the picture. “I personally had the watch made for Cesare for his fortieth birthday a few years ago. I had the family’s crest carved into the face of the watch. All our staff receives certain keepsakes for their devoted service to our family.”
“Of course, we must see his dental records to confirm it was, in fact, your assistant who died in this explosion. I need to search Cesare’s room.” Giaccopo said.
Ambrogio gave Adele a heartbroken glance before guiding the investigator towards the entrance to La Borgata. “Follow me, I can take you to it.”
The flashbulbs had started as soon as Ambrogio and Adele approached the chaotic scene. A reporter stalked up to Adele, pushing a tape-recorder into her face. It took two guards and three policeman to pry the reporter out of Ambrogio’s volatile hands. Reams of unwound tape left behind in his wake were the only evidence of the encounter.
Other reporters screamed questions in Italian at them from all directions. Adele felt like a celebrity fresh from her latest scandal. Ambrogio didn’t seem at all phased by the unyielding attention. He moved through the story-hungry reporters like a blade cutting through a piece of cake--swiftly and without resistance.
Adele’s was relieved. She was happy Robynne, although still unfound, wasn’t the body discovered in the car. Led by Ambrogio, the investigator and Robynne walked through the halls of La Borgata which were filled with grieving workers, their heads bent as the trio walked by.
Chapter 33
As they arrived at Cesare’s door, Adele was afraid at what they would find hidden in his room. She waited impatiently for Ambrogio, who was taking centuries, to open the damnable door
The sound of the doorknob connecting with the wall echoed throughout the quiet hallways. The room was in perfect order, a testament to discipline and tidiness. Giaccopo entered Cesare’s room, but barred Ambrogio and Adele from doing the same.
Giaccopo surveyed the room slowly as if he was drawing the images on his mind to save for later. “Your presence will impede this investigation. You can stand outside if you like.”
Cast off like impudent children, a helpless Ambrogio stood watch with Adele. The investigator peered in drawers, in cabinets, and under Cesare’s bed. Giocappo seemed perturbed by the normalcy mocking him from the contents of Cesare’s room. His boorish grunts permeated the air and cautious steps canvased the bedroom; he made sure to note everything he witnessed onto his notepad.
When Giaccopo opened Cesare’s closet door, he let out a gasp so unnerving, Adele thought he needed medical care. Her suspicions dissipated when he came alive with several short bursts of Italian. An over-the-shoulder glance reminded him of Ambrogio and Adele’s presence. They rushed into the room upon Giocappo’s request, then shrank back when Cesare’s secret came to light.
There, hidden in plain sight, testaments to Cesare’s obsession with Ambrogio, were collages of pictures plastered on the wall which spanned two decades of Ambrogio’s life.
Captioned with dates written with black magic marker, the pictures wallpapered the every inch of the wall inside the closet. Adele thought back to Cesare’s “you shouldn’t be here” comment, realizing it had nothing to do with her race. His remark was the equivalent of a dog urinating on a fire-hydrant and marking his territory.
Giocappo summoned his forensic photographers. “Did you know anything about your assistant’s unique hobby?”
Stunned, Ambrogio shook his head. “I had no idea.”
“Not even a small suspicion?” Giacoppo eyed him with contempt.
“Do I need to call my lawyer?”
“I don’t know, do you?” He quieted his beeping radio.
“I have done nothing wrong.” Ambrogio said, right before they were interrupted.
With rookie written all over her face, a photographer stepped into the room. The distraction, just what Adele needed in order to conceal a journal hidden in the corner. She placed it between the waistband of her jeans and her stomach and folded her hands in front of her waist, adding an extra element of concealment.
“You two can leave for the time being,” Giacoppo said.
Adele was not good at keeping secrets. She wore her best “normal” face and set her mind on not dislodging her find, the task made her take the most gingerly of steps out into the hallway. Seconds from celebrating her dubious victory, she was startled by a curt whistle from behind.
“Adele, was it? I wouldn’t make any travel plans, if I were you. You’re in league with the Argentero’s. Unfortunately for you, it’s an association that makes you a potential suspect in this murder case as well.”
Adele gulped. “He seems to hold a very serious grudge against this family. Why?”
“Strange occurrences sure do run in this family.”
“It would seem so,” Ambrogio said once they were safely out of the reach of Italy’s finest scrambling about the halls like ants.