Storming Venice

by Anna E Bendewald

  “I will have another child with my beautiful wife.”

  “Say again?” Vincenzo sputtered.

  Juliette sat up straighter. “What?”

  “Don’t doubt it, Juliette. Last night God showed me that you’re still fertile, and I intend to enjoy proving Him right.” He narrowed his eyes and enjoyed seeing her blush again. “I had a vision that the next Verona child will be particularly gifted in healing and leading the world to the truth.”

  “Are you thinking of telling anyone about me?” A kaleidoscope of emotion played out over his son’s face.

  “No.” Gabrieli felt a little bubble of panic in his throat. “Not yet, God will lead us in time. All we,” he swept his hand around the table indicating each of them present, “must do is pray for direction and the strength to carry out our parts. Then, we just lead with love and everything will work out perfectly.”

  Yvania said, “I am not much of the praying person, but I will pray as you have said.” She pushed her glasses up and smiled as she reached for her cup. “I am very goot at loving.”

  Satisfied, Gabrieli eased his chair back. “Now, if you will excuse me, I must get on with my day. Casimir, will you walk with me on your way to the helipad?”

  As they walked, Casimir said, “I wish I could stay here Gabrieli, but I must get to Rome for the corruption hearings.”

  “Go to Rome feeling calm. God has just shown me how he’s going to save the faithful.”

  They’d reached the palazzo’s main entryway, and Alberto moved to the elevator to call it to the main floor. Casimir asked, “He is about to save the church from being consumed by sin?”

  Gabrieli nodded and smiled broadly. “Sì. It will be miraculous.”

  “God’s timing is nothing if not dramatic.”

  Gabrieli put his coat on. “Simon Peter himself relied on my family because he knew that without our special abilities to calm the savage mind and bring love to the fore, his church couldn’t withstand the inducements of wealth and power. But now, He has revealed a larger plan to heal the world. Moses led eighteen hundred, Abraham led two thousand, but last night God showed me how you will lead eight billion people.”

  “But we are just over one billion Catholics,” Casimir said, puzzled.

  “You’re going to follow Jesus’ word and liberate the world with an unseen army.”

  “I know as long as I have you by my side, all will be well.” Casimir put his hat on as the elevator appeared and then said impulsively, “I miss our girl.”

  “Me too. I’m going to call her right now.”

  “Tell her that I love her.”

  As Alberto held the door for Casimir, Gabrieli said, “Where there is faith, there is no fear.” After his friend stepped into the elevator with his security detail, Gabrieli and Tiberius headed to Verdu Mer to see what his underwater expert had found. He dialed Giselle on the way.

  “Ciao, Gabrieli.” She sounded guarded. “Everything okay?”

  “Actually, things have never been more right. I called to tell you I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “I’ve asked for Vincenzo’s forgiveness. He’s suffered enough, and I won’t judge him. That’s for his Heavenly Father, not me.”

  “He’s a good man.”

  “And you’re a good friend to him. You’ll always be my daughter, and I’ll always be part of your family. Our two houses are linked forever.”

  “Grazie, Gabrieli.” Her voice broke slightly with sincerity. “How’s Juliette?”

  “I believe we’ll heal each other. Last night I had a vision of her pregnant again.”

  “Uh, her doctor said another attempt at pregnancy could kill her.”

  “Trust in God.” Turning a corner, he’d reached the edge of Verdu Mer’s construction zone. “I’ll have word of your annulment soon. Casimir sends his love.” He clicked off.

  Gabrieli entered a deserted lane in the back section of Verdu Mer where old buildings stood ready to be torn down. Chizzoli had sent an urgent text asking him to come immediately. Hopefully, it wasn’t something that would complicate the plan for laying the underwater foundations.

  He and Tiberius entered a tiny space that used to be a shoe repair shop. In the floor at the back of the building was an open access-way to the canal, and under the building was the maze of ancient underwater pilings sunk down into the mud and rock below Venice. One of Chizzoli’s team stood at the very edge of the hole, looking down. He was outfitted in scuba gear and held his respirator lightly in his mouth.

  Salvio had surfaced through the hole in the back of the old shop and climbed up the construction ladder. While easy in theory, it was awkward with his flippers, diving equipment, and weights. He was ready as Gabrieli and his bodyguard arrived. Pretending he was a member of the underwater team, he pointed into the hole and gave the hand signal for “rising.” Gabrieli nodded and hurried over to look into the hole, while the bodyguard went back outside to perform his rounds.

  Verona was just inches away when Salvio struck. With a quick sideways move, he leapt—wrapping his arms around Verona’s arms, pinning them to his sides—and hopping them both neatly into the water without so much as a splash. It happened in an instant. Bloomp. Silence. So quick, he was sure Verona hadn’t even gotten a gulp of air before he was under. Salvio felt strong, and tightened his bear hug as they plunged downward and the count twisted and flailed. Salvio’s weight belts made their descent incredibly swift. Could it be this easy? He watched with delight as right in front of his face mask, Gabrieli took in a mouthful of fetid canal water and flailed backward, scraping the back of his head against a piling. It was priceless when Gabrieli looked into his eyes and appeared stupefied.

  Surprise! It’s ME…you presumptuous papal lap dog! Guess what? I’m not dead! And I’m going to drop kick your pampered ass straight to Hell! Salvio would have laughed if it were possible with a respirator.

  Gabrieli continued to kick, but Salvio wrapped his legs around Gabrieli’s thighs and locked them together. He wondered if the count could feel his growing erection through the wetsuit. They plunged down past rotting underpinnings as Verona fought to twist free, swinging his head and body from side to side, but he had no air in his lungs.

  Pain flashed across Verona’s face as Benjamin clamped the cuff on his left ankle, tethering him to part of the underwater foundation. I know, they bite into thin skin, don’t they? The count hiccupped briny seawater into his mouth and swallowed it. As Benjamin swam out of sight, Salvio let go of Verona and swam back just out of reach. Little clouds of blood wafted around Verona’s ankle, and Salvio treaded water to watch the death show. Verona was fighting to stay conscious and in a last burst of energy reached for Salvio’s respirator, but he couldn’t reach, and spun like a toy. Salvio shook his finger at the naughty thief’s attempt. You stole my city, and now you want my air. I think I’ll keep it. Too bad Pope Leopold the fucking fourteenth isn’t here to plug a respirator into your gaping fish mouth like a pacifier, you greedy little count!

  Verona looked down through muddy water at the amber-colored rope, then he bent over and clawed at the cuff. Then his body suddenly went slack and his torso drifted upright on its own. Salvio watched, fascinated, as tiny pricks of red sprinkled across the whites of his enemy’s eyes as he suffocated. His head tipped back and he looked up to the surface, perhaps beyond it. And then Count Gabrieli Verona, the ninety-seventh son in a sacred lineage that began in the thirty-third year of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, no longer served his holy purpose. The blood stopped seeping from his torn ankle as his heart stilled.

  Salvio’s legs scissored in place as he admired his work. He took a final look at his ex-foe, the thief who’d tried to steal his city from him. He felt a prodigious wave of excitement course through his body and warmth leaking inside the crotch of his wetsuit. Nothing existed at that moment but him and the human buttress of the Catholic Church who was slipping off this mortal coil right in front of him.

  Thrilled to
the point of quivering and apparently loss of bladder control, he swam around the edge of the deep inlet. There he joined Benjamin at their underwater sled, took a firm hold of a handle, and hung on as it spirited them unseen through the bottom of the vacant canals, in the opposite direction from where Verdu Mer’s aquatic construction crew was working.

  According to Salvio’s estimation, Gabrieli’s bodyguard should be in the empty shop above right about now, realizing he’d lost track of Verona, and calling his phone. But Gabrieli wasn’t going to answer. He was twenty-one feet down, tethered by an amber-colored rope that was tied to a weight with a fancy knot. Apparently the same knot a Catholic bishop had used to kill one of Salvio’s forefathers.

  Three minutes later, he and Benjamin surfaced in a garage they’d rented outside the construction zone, where they changed into their kaftans, and then returned to their safe house by boat.

  “That was easy,” he said to Benjamin. “I can’t wait to hear how things went in France.”

  Back at the safe house, Salvio entered the kitchen and found Mateo sitting in front of his laptop, talking on the phone. Next to him were Rajim and Carlos, who were looking at some drawings. Mateo got off his call looking pleased.

  “The plan is going perfectly,” Salvio said. “Verona is dead.”

  The men looked at him with even more respect, if that were possible.

  Mateo said, “We have a status update, Padrone. Benjamin’s brother, Bernardo, is in France with two local Alithiníans. They’re in route to kill Giselle and the Russian. Very shortly the man will have a bullet in his head, and Giselle will be tied underwater like her father-in-law.”

  “Excellent.” Salvio was relieved. His mood had been dark after Benjamin’s failure to get into his wife’s sanctuary for bitches who’ve made men want to punch them. “Where are things with my wife? I don’t need to question her about my finances any longer, just get rid of her.”

  “Here’s how we’ll get Raphielli.” Rajim pushed his drawing to the center of the table and pointed with a pencil. “We’re ready to move on the shelter where we’ll set up the rope, clamp, and weight at the edge of the bridge at its entry. Carlos will kill the guard, while I head around the back of the building and gain access through this door.” He indicated a back door. “I’ll kill whoever I encounter, and make my way to the front and buzz Carlos in. Then we herd the women into a room, gag Raphielli, and once we get her outside, we’ll clamp her ankle and shove her into the water with the weight. She’ll go straight down. Then we take off.”

  “If there are any witnesses?”

  “We’ll neutralize them, it gets dark so early these days that it’ll be hard to tell what’s going on.”

  Salvio eyed them coldly. “And if you’re caught by the police?”

  “No one on this mission will allow that to happen. We’ll take ourselves out before we can be questioned.” Rajim pulled his shirt aside to reveal a gun.

  “Good, that’s why we’ve survived so long, our selflessness. I’ll join you in the shelter raid.”

  Mateo said, “Padrone, you’re irreplaceable. Why don’t you have another try at the girl? We just prepared her again.”

  Salvio thought about this, but before he could say anything, his stomach growled. Benjamin hopped up, “I’ll bring you a meal before we go.”

  “If you’ll excuse us,” Rajim said, “Carlos and I need to go pick up a gun for him, and some silencers.” He stood and looked eager. “As soon as we’re done with Raphielli, we can use the guns to take out Vincenzo and the Mafiosos when we get a location on them.”

  Mateo stood up, too. “I’ll go find Vincenzo. Benjamin, when you’re done here, go to that address we have for the Petrosinos. Call me if you get a visual on them.”

  Salvio had never felt so aroused and he was suddenly famished. He would enjoy his meal, and then while working in the vessel, he’d relive Verona’s final moments. Possibly by the time he laid his head down tonight, all of his enemies would be dead, and the Scortini heir would be conceived.

  Luigi stood at his usual place in his favorite trattoria. The waiter placed an espresso and a flakey brioche before him on the bar. Just as he was about to take a bite, his cell rang. It was Laszlo, so he dropped the bread back onto his plate and answered it. “What’s up?”

  “Count Gabrieli Verona has been murdered!” the inspector thundered. “Get over to Verdu Mer!”

  Lazlo was mid-sentence when Luigi threw money on the bar and ran out onto the walkway with his napkin still tucked in his collar.

  When he arrived at the site, a police officer pointed him to an abandoned shop where, inside, he found two more officers, some scuba divers, and the count’s personal bodyguard. The officers looked relieved to have him on the scene. “Lampani! You’re here! The count is drowned under the floor!”

  Skidding to a stop in front of the men, he took in the word. “Drowned?” He’d expected Salvio’s favored head-smashing modus operandi.

  “Sì! Sì! A text had summoned the count here to meet Yani Chizzoli, the construction project’s underwater expert, but Chizzoli swears he didn’t send it. The moment the bodyguard turned his back, the count was thrown in the water and tied to a weight!”

  Luigi inched cautiously across the crumbling floor to the edge of a large opening. “He’s still in the water?”

  “Sì!” The officer nodded frantically. “It happened less than twenty minutes ago. The bodyguard got the divers to look in the water, and they found him right down there. It’s pretty dark but you can just about make him out.”

  “How is he staying down there? Is he hooked on something?”

  “There’s a metal fastening around his ankle.”

  “No chance he fell in and got caught on something?”

  “No. His left ankle’s been tethered to a big weight with a knotted rope.”

  Luigi couldn’t believe it. “The count wasn’t frail. How did he let this happen? Find me a murder weapon. Get on your hand and knees. It’s gotta be here somewhere.”

  Tiberius stepped forward, his expensive-looking suit soaked. “Detective,” he said, “the count couldn’t have been thrown into the water. It was silent here in this sector, and I’d just stepped outside to scan the area. I’d have heard a big splash or struggle. I left him with a scuba diver. That had to be the killer.”

  “What did he look like?”

  “I couldn’t say. He was wearing a full facemask, latex hood, and had a respirator in his mouth.”

  “Height? Build?”

  “Average weight, a touch shorter than the count.”

  Luigi turned to the scuba team. “You’re the ones who went down there?”

  They nodded.

  “What’s he fastened with? A piece of your equipment?”

  The divers shook their heads, and one said, “No sir, some sort of manacle and a yellowish-orange rope. We don’t use rope like that.”

  “Do you have cameras?”

  The divers nodded and pointed at the impressive equipment belts around their waists.

  “Okay, I need you to photograph every single thing down there. I want complete photos of the crime scene. Give me clear images of his ankle, the cuff, the weight, the rope…everything.” He turned to the officers. “Get the medical examiner and his team. Get forensics here. And what do you make of a getaway route?”

  Tiberius pointed to the water. “The killer came and went from down there. He didn’t travel along the construction lane or I’d have seen him. I checked with the construction foreman, and his team was inspecting a drainage installation beyond here.” He gestured with a wave of his hand beyond the shop walls. “He says they would have seen a boat trying to get through on that side.”

  “And they didn’t?”

  “Not a soul.”

  Luigi turned to the officer who wasn’t on his phone yet. “Get me that foreman!” He motioned to the divers, who were hesitating. “Well, get down below and get my photographs!” He said to himself, “There’s no way a
single diver could pull him under and weight him down unless he knocked the count unconscious.” Turning back to Tiberius, who had the demeanor of a soldier, Luigi asked, “What are your working orders with the Veronas?”

  “Once my statement is taken, I’ll return to the palazzo.”

  “You’ve notified the family?”

  “Sì.”

  “Where are the rest of the Veronas?”

  “Count Vincenzo’s at the palazzo with la contessa and the Czerneys. Their protection is in place, and police are posted outside.”

  Luigi felt apprehension climb up his spine to his scalp. “What about Contessa Giselle?”

  “She’s in France.”

  “At least she wasn’t here to be targeted by Scortini again.”

  An outraged foreman appeared and hollered, “Did Salvio Scortini do this?”

  “Sì. I don’t know how, but I have no doubt Scortini did this,” Luigi answered.

  “How does he keep killing people?” The hulking man was clenching his hands and huffing out breaths like a bull at a gate.

  “He’s got some underwater access that he used after his attempt on Giselle, and he used it again today to get in and out of the construction zone unseen.”

  “If I find him slinking around my site, I’ll break him in half!”

  Luigi thought, Get in line, pal.

  Then the big foreman broke into sobs.

  At the Vatican, Casimir had just gotten underway with the morning’s inquest proceedings when the door to the great chamber flew open. The cardinals looked up with perturbed expressions that changed to worry in an instant, and they began to whisper. With the guards trotting alongside, the papal secretary ran up to Casimir’s chair and knelt before him, offering a phone. “Holiness! La Contessa Verona! Dio ci salvi!”

  The Cardinals fell silent at the name “Verona.” Every eye watched as he took the phone.

  “Sono qui, Juliette.”

  “Salvio has murdered Gabrieli!” Juliette cried. “Casimir! Please come home!”

  Casimir knew shock can cause people to lose their wits, but he felt a sense of purposeful calm steal over him. “Sì. Where is Vincenzo?”