Storming Venice

by Anna E Bendewald

  Selma was so pumped with adrenaline that she almost didn’t wait for her mother to stop the tractor before jumping off the door. Veronique sat up and braked hard, coming to an abrupt stop. To Selma’s ears, the great estate sounded just as quiet as always, except for the pounding of her pulse and her boots crunching on the frozen ground. Everything was still. Even the dogs stood at attention. As she got to the body on the ground, her cell rang. Shifting the rifle to her other hand, she took out her phone. “Ouais.”

  “Selma!” It was Markus. “We heard shots. Are you okay? Where is the attacker? Did you kill him?”

  Selma nudged the man’s gun away from his lifeless hand with the toe of her boot. “He did himself in.”

  “You and Veronique, are you hurt?

  Selma looked up at her mother, who saluted her through the starred tractor windshield, and then at the dogs. “Not a scratch. We’re all fine here. Good thing for rock-resistant windshields.”

  “Hokay.” Markus heaved a sigh. “Giselle and I are going to Fauve and Henri’s. They have another hit man at the café.”

  “What the fu…okay, I’ll call the police now.” She heard Giselle let loose a stream of curse words nearby and asked, “What now?”

  “There were two men. One was killed when he ran into Star Fall. We cannot have the police go inside that shed.”

  “To get the body…OH!” Selma’s mind flashed to an image of the big sculpture dripping poison inside the shed. “That fucking chemical! What’s it called?”

  “Irrodium, and Giselle could be imprisoned because it is illegal. Also, if the police go inside the shed, they may die.” He said something in Ukrainian under his breath and then sighed at something Giselle was saying.

  Selma asked, “It’s that deadly? What the fuck was she doing with it? Are you two nuts?”

  It was Giselle who spoke through the phone next. “Selma? I have a thought.”

  “Well, it better not be me going into the shed and getting the body.”

  “No, no. Call the police and tell them two men came onto our property and tried to attack us. Explain they’ll need hazmat suits to get one of the bodies, and the man needs to be placed into a hazmat bag before being removed from the shed. Everyone knows I make dangerous sculptures, so just tell them you don’t know the name of the chemical. Explain that we’re not around to answer any questions because Count Gabrieli’s been murdered and we’ve gone to be with the family.”

  “I can do that. You know it’ll be Terrance and Luc who respond anyway. They love you.”

  Markus said something in the background, and then Giselle said, “When we figure out what’s happening in Aiglemont, we’ll call the police there as well.”

  “Gendarme Evan will finally get to turn on his car’s siren.”

  Markus was back on the phone now. “Selma, she should not drive and talk on the phone. Good luck with the police, and plead ignorance to as much as possible.”

  “I can do that. Call me when you can.” And with that, she clicked off to call their police buddies.

  Casimir slipped away from his security team by giving a confusing series of instructions to his staff. Saying he was going to take a bath, he went into a bathroom, opened a secret door at the back of a linen closet and followed an old laundry passage outside. As he stood with the cold air on his cheeks, he had a fleeting urge to throw himself to the ground and pour out his tears for the loss of his brother, but that would not stop Salvio. His head remained clear, and he felt strong and awake as he heard a car’s wheels crunch to a stop nearby. He peeked out from behind a tree and saw Vincenzo in a little Fiat. Casimir left his hiding spot and hurried to the passenger door. “You were able to get rid of your new bodyguard. Bene!”

  “I left him with Mama and slipped away just like you’ve done.”

  Casimir climbed in, leaned over the stick shift, and awkwardly hugged his godson. They both choked back the waves of grief that washed over them until Casimir pulled away and cleared his throat. “Come, now we will stop Scortini together. Just last night your father saw a holy undertaking, a vision for healing the world, so the Verona he saw at my side must have been you.”

  “Me? Can you still use me? Even though I’m…well…the way I am?”

  “I can, and I will.”

  “I don’t have my father’s ability to infuse people with love.”

  “I will not question God’s plan, and neither will you.”

  Vincenzo shifted the car into gear and drove down the winding hilltop road, zipped around the lake, and through the gates of the Verona’s summer estate. Within minutes, they were on the roof and the helicopter pilot had them in the air and banking over Lake Gandolfo, bound for Venice.

  Vincenzo turned to him. “Papa, what’s next?”

  “Call Negrali.”

  Vincenzo placed the call and handed Casimir the phone. As he waited for Americo to answer, he was keenly aware that taking action ameliorated that helpless feeling for both he and Vincenzo. They were on a mission.

  When Negrali answered, he was breathless. Believing he was talking to Vincenzo, he said, “Pronto? I’m here, Vincenzo.”

  “Americo, are you alone?”

  A startled gasp came through the phone. “Sua Santità! I hear a helicopter! What in heavens? You should be in your Vatican apartment under lock and key! That is official protocol!”

  “I am on my way to Venice with Vincenzo.”

  “No, Holy Father, you must stay safe. Turn back to Rome!”

  “Have you found Raphielli?”

  The voice huffed, “I am just arriving at her shelter now. Police are all over Venice. I will take her to the palazzo and stay there to protect her. Holy Father, you are too precious to put yourself in danger.”

  “Keep her safe until I arrive. We will meet you at the Scortini palazzo soon. I am not afraid of Salvio, I am coming to bring him to his senses.”

  Negrali interjected, “I cannot hold my tongue! You must…”

  “I will not justify my actions to you!”

  “This is not safety protocol! The Vatican will be in turmoil!”

  “The Vatican is already in turmoil!” Casimir gritted his teeth. “And I am the only one who can bring Salvio under control!”

  Alphonso dashed up the steps of the Scortini palazzo and used his key to open the front door. He found an odd group in the entryway. Dante was hovering, while the world’s most powerful cardinal was gesturing wildly and waving his phone in agitation. Raphielli clutched her phone in one hand and her security pager in the other.

  The trio spotted him and hurried across the big foyer. Raphielli rushed into his arms. “Alphonso! Is Zelph coming?”

  “He’s on his way.” Holding her, he could feel her body was shot through with tension. “Try to calm down. Take slow, deep breaths.”

  “I called Gio.” She started to slow her exhalations. “He’s looking for Salvio, too.”

  “Apparently he’s not in Croatia.” Alphonso put his hand up. “Everybody calm down. We don’t know that Salvio is coming here.”

  She looked up at him. “I know he killed Gabrieli. I’ll go to Sri Lanka now. Oh, wait…I don’t have a passport! I’ve never traveled anywhere!”

  “We passed an officer on almost every corner on the way from the shelter.” Negrali pressed close. “They will catch him if he is crazy enough to head this way.”

  Alphonso gave the cardinal a look that said, Oh, he’s crazy enough. Negrali stood there blinking at him. He didn’t look nearly as impressive as he normally did, even in his formal red vestments.

  “All right, let’s not stand at the front door. Let’s go to Raphielli’s suite.” He released Raphielli and took her hand, leading the way. Rosa and Guiseppe appeared and trailed along.

  When they were settled, Alphonso turned to the cardinal. “Eccellenza, what can you tell us?”

  Negrali’s salt and pepper eyebrows shot upward. “Me? I’m sorry to say, almost nothing. I was at the Vatican with the Pope when he received w
ord from Juliette that Count Verona had been killed.” He wrung his hands, his eyes pleading.

  Raphielli was making knots of her fingers in her lap, and tears dripped from her lashes onto her cheeks. Alphonso gestured for her to come to him, and she slid over to his side. He wiped her tears. “And Elli, what do you know?”

  “Detective Lampani called me at the shelter and told me the count had been killed, then Cardinal Negrali called saying he was coming to get me. On our way home, we passed officers searching for Salvio. When we got home, you arrived. My God! How could Salvio kill Gabrieli? Such a good man! You know, I believed Salvio wanted me dead because I couldn’t have children. But now that we’ve found the Scortini temple, his family probably wasn’t really Catholic. He could have just divorced me.”

  “What did you say?” Negrali hitched forward in his seat. “Salvio not Catholic? What Scortini temple?” He stood up and looked around as if it might be nearby.

  Raphielli and Alphonso described their discovery of the temple to the cardinal, who appeared stunned. The puzzled household staff looked at each other and shrugged, but they didn’t seem surprised by anything hidden within these walls.

  “I need to see this temple immediately.” Negrali was heading for the suite door. “Where is it?”

  Raphielli looked appraisingly at the old cardinal. “It has an underwater entrance. You have to swim to it.”

  He appeared unperturbed. “I am Venetian. I am an excellent swimmer.”

  Alphonso’s phone rang and he answered it. “Zelph, we’re all okay. We’re at the palazzo with Cardinal Negrali, and about to show him the underwater temple. You’re close? Dante’ll let you in. Meet us in the temple.” He turned to the butler. “Dante, only admit my cousin or the police.”

  Dante hurried toward the front of the building nodding excitedly.

  “Oh!” Negrali scrubbed his face with his hands. “Or His Holiness Pope Leopold and Vincenzo Verona.”

  “What? They’re coming here?” Alphonso put his hands over his eyes for a second and muttered. “What the fuck are they thinking?” Straightening up, he glanced at the disturbed Cardinal. “Perdonami, Eccellenza.”

  Clutching their security beepers in nervous hands, Rosa and Guiseppe hurried after Dante, saying, “Safety in numbers.”

  Alphonso gave Raphielli’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Do you want to stay here, locked in your room?”

  “Alone? Not a chance!” She slid herself under his arm and gripped his waist.

  Alphonso had the feeling that the killer was on his way, while the lambs he planned to slaughter were gathering inside the pen.

  Since Gio had spoken to Raphielli, he’d been in constant motion checking with contacts throughout the Venetian Islands. Now it was time to trust his instincts. He felt sure Scortini would go home. Standing next to Drea, the best pilot with the fastest boat in Venice, he got a call from the clockmaker.

  “Pronto.”

  “I’m at the Scortini palazzo, but the butler won’t let me in.”

  “Did you tell him you were there to help Raphielli?”

  “Sì.”

  “Okay, Primo and I are coming. Stay out of the way and call me if anyone tries to get in. Don’t approach Salvio, he’ll kill you soon as look at you.”

  “I can help. I used to be a soldier.”

  “Not this time. I need you to just be my lookout.”

  “Will do.”

  Gio clicked off, and Drea worked her magic on the waterways. She knew which tiny arteries to slip down and vanish from police boats that were inspecting every vessel they came across.

  Gio told Primo, “Orologio didn’t get in.”

  Primo asked, “Is Raphielli inside?”

  “I’m betting she is. But even if she isn’t, I’ve got a feeling Salvio’ll make a grab for money out of that big safe in his office. I bet he thinks he’s caused enough distraction to sneak back to his house and go for the cash. This city is too hot for him now that he’s killed the count.”

  “So tonight we can put an end to him.” Primo’s anticipation was plain on his face.

  “Abso-fuckin’-lutely.” Gio ducked as they zipped under some low-slung laundry spanning the narrow residential canal.

  Zelph was hurrying up the front steps of the palazzo when, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted two men running toward him. He spun to face them and grabbed for the awl in his tool belt. He experienced a feeling of unreality when he recognized Vincenzo Verona approaching the steps, looking like a movie star in an Armani jacket and jeans. Accompanying him was none other than Pope Leopold XIV in his vestments, easily taking the steps at Vincenzo’s side despite being about seventy years old. Not knowing the proper etiquette, Zelph stopped, slid the awl back into his belt, bowed, and put his hands awkwardly together in prayer.

  “Holy Father, I’m Zelph Vitali.” To Vincenzo, he said, “I’m Alphonso’s cousin. We met at the Gritti Palace. We’ve been protecting Raphielli.”

  Vincenzo nodded in recognition. “Raphielli and Cardinal Negrali are waiting for us inside.”

  Zelph ushered them to the door and gave the horse and boat bell an impatient ring. When Dante opened the door, they almost knocked him down in their haste. The elderly butler sank to his knees in front of the Pope, who swept his hand over Dante’s bowed head, then reached down and helped him back to his feet. Rosa and Guiseppe dropped to their knees as well.

  “Stand up,” Pope Leopold said. “Where are Cardinal Negrali and Raphielli?”

  Dante said, “La signora, Signor Alphonso, and the Cardinal went to some hidden temple.”

  “Take us there,” the Pope demanded.

  “I don’t know where it is,” Dante said helplessly.

  “I can take you,” Zelph offered.

  The Pope eyed the servants. “Keep on the lookout for Salvio.” Then he nodded to Zelph, who led the way to the servant’s corridors behind the dining room. The altar boy inside him was in awe of the situation.

  Kate was relieved that things had quieted down after Raphielli left. The therapists were gone for the night, and Kate had just left the dayroom where some of the women were listening to a selection of Mina songs and relaxing, their knitting needles clicking softly as they chatted. They were blissfully oblivious to the citywide manhunt underway outside.

  Back in the office, Kate got settled behind her desk and started clearing out her IN box to the strains of “No Cosa Say” drifting down the hall. She’d been working for about twenty minutes when she heard a guttural cry of “No!” and a clash of pans hitting the kitchen floor. Finding the silent alarm button under her desk, Kate depressed it and got to her feet. She’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop since the police had recovered poor Alexi’s body.

  Loud footsteps came running down the hall toward her office. She pawed around her cluttered desktop for her cell phone, but it wasn’t there. Her panic was rising fast, she looked around the office and spotted it on the filing table where just she’d stacked some folders. Fighting the urge to duck and hide under her desk, she made a frantic scramble for the phone.

  “Raphielli? Kate? Come out here right now!” Roared a man’s voice.

  Snatching the phone, Kate dialed Detective Lampani, and shoved the phone into the pocket of her blazer as she approached the door. She poked her head out of the office, and something came down on the back of her head. The polished floor raced up at her, and she heard a loud smack as she landed. Rolling to her side, she saw glossy black shoes in front of her nose, and she screamed for all she was worth.

  The man hauled her to her feet by her hair, jerked an arm around her throat, and savagely crushed her to him in a chokehold. Through the spots that appeared in her vision, she could make out a second man dressed in a white medical smock from the shelter’s dispensary…with black pants and polished black shoes. Kate couldn’t move her head to see if there were more assailants inside.

  The man clamped harder on her windpipe, cutting off her air. She went wild and clawed at his w
rists, feeling skin gathering under her nails. She tried to squirm sideways, kicking out at him, and succeeded in falling slightly away from him, but felt her phone fly out of her pocket. She sucked in a gulp of air, and let out another scream. The arm pulled her off her feet, and his fingers dug into the front of her neck, silencing her.

  Her attacker yelled right next to her ear, “Raphielli Scortini! I’ve already killed two of your guards, a cook, and the nurse! Come out here right now, or I’ll break Kate’s neck!”

  Through blurred vision, she saw two Palomas come out of the dayroom. Both walked gingerly with pathetic limps, and deadpan faces that gave away nothing. Other women came out looking confused and defenseless, their hands behind their backs. Leona, so tiny she was almost bird-like, came out into the hall as Kate tried to blink away black dots.

  They killed my staff? Dio Mio! How have I failed to keep these women safe? How did Salvio’s men get in? Shanti and Nanda followed Paloma and Leona, flowing slowly out of the room. The little bird approached the man in the dispensary uniform. “What’s going on?”

  He whirled around, hauled Leona off her feet, and shoved a knife against her slender neck. He roared, “Where is Raphielli?” Blood dripped down the blade.

  Just then, Paloma let out a shrieking whistle that made the man cringe momentarily, as Paloma raged forward and slammed one of her knitting needles through his cheek into his mouth. He dropped his knife and let go of Leona. As he reached up to grab the shaft of metal out of his face, Leona kicked him between the legs. Paloma yanked her needle back and jabbed upward with her other needle, skewering it deep into the hollow of his left armpit. Pulling it backward like she was fencing, she refused to give up her weapons and was ready to strike again. He fell to the ground with loose gouts of blood rushing onto the floor. She must have hit an artery. The downed intruder started to push himself backward with his feet as he reached for something in his waistband.

  Shanti yelled, “He’s got a gun!” Then she and Nanda threw themselves on him and fought with a ferocity that surprised Kate, who was no stranger to brutality. In a flash, they had the gun and were bathed in blood. Kate was dragged backward as the man holding her started making guttural sounds in response to the women’s savagery, using her as a shield. Trying to think of how to get out of his grip, she heard a faint but urgent voice coming from under a table near the door. It was Detective Lampani on her phone.