Falling for Italy

by De Ross, Melinda

  It had stood here for over two thousand years, almost from the time Jesus had walked the Earth. Only God knew how many atrocities those weather-beaten walls had witnessed. The thought of that somehow shadowed the grandeur of the place. She couldn’t say why tears came into her eyes as she stopped and angled her head back to gaze at the glorious piece of history.

  “You know, I’ve dated women who could talk about the Colosseo in three languages, but I doubt any of them had any emotion when looking up at its greatness,” he said, squeezing her shoulders with one arm.

  She nestled against his chest, letting out a deep sigh.

  “I don’t think I could tell you much about it in one language. But what is there to say? It’s so impressive it leaves me speechless.”

  He kissed the top of her head.

  “The Colosseo is one of the world’s most precious artifacts, to put it like this. Want to come in?”

  “Can we?”

  “Sure,” he replied smiling when she looked up to him. “Let’s go.”

  The interior was even more magnificent. Parts of it had been restored, but others were quite badly deteriorated by devastating earthquakes. Giovanni told her that stone robbers had a part in ruining the building’s walls.

  “That’s sacrilege!” she exclaimed, outraged. “It’s as bad as grave robbing!”

  “Few people realize the importance of such monuments, cara. I’m glad you and I are among them,” he remarked, as she stared around the enormous arena, envisioning the gladiators fighting for their lives and dying to entertain crowds of twisted people. She shuddered because the images forming in her mind were too vivid.

  They took dozens of pictures, like the other tourists who gaped at the ruins, though it was doubtful—in Sonia’s opinion—they fully grasped the true value of the sacred place they’d come to gawk at.

  Eventually, with aching feet and growling stomachs, they cut their way to the spot they’d parked the car and drove back to the Sontuoso.

  “Only the promise of a rich dinner and a hot bath keep me going,” she told her lover, admiring the city lights that came to life as daylight started to fade.

  “Tell me about it. At least we had a productive day. Tomorrow I plan to sleep until noon. Then I can’t wait to drive back home. I should pay Lucia and Paolo another salary for dog-sitting.”

  “They adore Guccio,” she said on a light laugh,” and they spoil him rotten.”

  “As if you don’t. The only thing you haven’t done yet is have him sleep in our bed.”

  “Well…”

  “Don’t tell me.” He sighed resignedly.

  “It was just a quick nap. We were playing and we fell asleep for a bit.” She pouted defensively. “He’s practically our baby.”

  “Oh, yeah. And I’m practically Johnny Depp.”

  “You’re far better looking than him, baby,” she said truthfully, cuddling her cheek against his arm.

  He parked the BMW in the hotel’s secured parking lot. The bellman and receptionist welcomed them politely when they crossed the lobby and stepped into the elevator.

  Once they reached their suite, Giovanni passed the keycard through the slot and opened the door for her with a bow. As she entered, the smile froze on her face and her heart leaped into her throat.

  The room had been wrecked. Furniture was overturned, clothes and objects were thrown everywhere. A table clock lay broken on the floor and shards of a cheval mirror glittered all around the carpet.

  Giovanni saw the chaos a second after she did. His hands shot out and he pushed her behind him, as though to protect her from something or someone.

  “Che cazzo…”

  He cursed in Italian and took the phone out of his pocket, quickly dialing a number.

  “I want security and the manager immediately at suite number 217. And call the polizia. Now!” he snapped into the receiver, staring at the destruction. Beside him, Sonia stood still, too shocked to utter a sound.

  * * * *

  “The cameras recorded a strange man crossing the lobby at two-fourteen this afternoon,” Commissario Alberto was telling them now. “I would like for you both to look at the images and see if you recognize him.”

  Giovanni’s head was pounding with pain, exhaustion and fury. He massaged the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a moment in an attempt to cling to reason. After taking a calming breath, he addressed the manager.

  “How was it possible that a strange man could stroll in here, in broad daylight, trash our room and take our property without anyone so much as questioning him?”

  His voice rose, in spite of his trying to control it. Sonia sat next to him looking tired and shaken, holding her forehead in her hand. For her benefit, everyone spoke English, at Giovanni’s request.

  “I’m terribly sorry, signore Coriola. I have no excuse. The staff members are being questioned and those responsible of carelessness will be sanctioned drastically, I promise you.”

  Signore Corrado, the hotel manager, had moved them into another suite, cancelling all their expenses. Not that it was any consolation after they had been robbed. It wasn’t the taking of the things themselves, Giovanni thought, but the sense of violation of their property, their security, their intimacy. The thought of some stranger pawing through their belongings drove him mad.

  What if he’d left Sonia at the hotel, instead of taking her with him? She would have been defenseless, at the mercy of an individual who was probably armed and dangerous.

  He plowed a hand through his hair, closing his eyes tightly and clasping her hand. He had to buy her a gun, and fast. Italy wasn’t all pretty buildings and fashionable facades. It was dangerous and she was out of her element.

  He refocused his attention on what the commissario was saying.

  “We found no sign of forced entry. The burglar either had a keycard or a good clone. Our crime scene investigators have processed the location. The only things that come close to being evidence are the fingerprints they have gathered from all over the place.”

  He looked at his polished shoes.

  “There are dozens of them. We will try to match those of the staff and exclude the people who had alibis for that timeframe. I am afraid that will take days, not to mention the other ones that cannot be identified, of other guests.”

  “What you are trying to say, Commissario, is that there’s a very thin chance you will catch this man and recover our property.”

  “No, signore Coriola. I assure you we will do our best to capture this individual. I have here the description of the missing items—a gold bracelet, two gold chains, a watch and a laptop. Is this correct?”

  He proceeded to re-read the description of the things that had been stolen. Giovanni and Sonia had been allowed to enter the room and check what was missing, after the commissario’s team had gathered all the evidence.

  “Thank God I forgot to get your mother’s broche out of my bag yesterday. Otherwise he would have taken that too. And my amulet,” Sonia said, folding her hand over her handbag.

  “We will try to trace the jewelry and your laptop. Sooner or later, burglars sell the stolen goods on the black market, so we have a good chance there. Will you go and see the images now, please?” Alberto asked, already heading to the door of their new suite.

  They went downstairs to the security quarters, where they were ushered into a room full of monitors and security equipment. As they approached, one of the men pointed out to a monitor, whose image was frozen.

  “This is the man,” the security guy told them.

  “Do either of you recognize or have seen this man before? Take a close look,” Alberto prompted, coming up behind them.

  Giovanni stared hard at the image of the man who was suspected to have robbed them. Average build, average looks. He couldn’t see his face clearly, just a glimpse of a short beard, dark hair. He was dressed as one of the bellmen. In fact…

  “That looks like Lorenzo!” he exclaimed, turning to Alberto.

  �
�Yes, he resembles Lorenzo DiMarco, but it is not him. We already checked that. At 2:10 Lorenzo went to the parking lot to escort a couple that were just leaving and to carry their luggage. They have confirmed that through telephone, when we contacted them. Shortly after that, the receptionist saw a man, whom she presumed was Lorenzo, crossing the lobby and heading to the elevators. This man.” Alberto nodded to the screen. “She only glanced at him from the corner of her eye, and saw what she expected to see. The real Lorenzo was still in the parking lot during all this time, talking on the phone with his wife. Then he stopped at the entry to chat a bit with the parking valet. At that time, the receptionists were just changing shifts, so no one took any notice of this discrepancy. Not until you reported the robbery.”

  Sonia, who was standing close to Giovanni, absently toying with her pendant, glanced up suddenly.

  “Commissario, has any other suite been disturbed?”

  “No, signorina.”

  “Could that mean that we—Sonia or I—have been specifically targeted?” Giovanni asked, a bit incredulous.

  Alberto hesitated.

  “At this time, we cannot be sure. But it is a possibility. Do you have any enemies in Rome? Or perhaps someone who is aware of your wealth?”

  “Unless you refer to business competitors as enemies, I have none, as far as I know. As for my wealth—as you call it—my financial status is no secret to anybody. But never has something like this happened to me.”

  “How about you, signorina Galsworthy?” Alberto addressed Sonia, moving his attention to her.

  “I don’t even know anybody here. I only arrived less than a week ago,” she replied puzzled. “I can’t imagine someone who would target us specifically. I think it was just a coincidence.”

  “What are you going to do about this, Commissario?” Giovanni asked the elderly man. Although he wore a slight resemblance with the anthological Lieutenant Columbo, he didn’t seem half as bright.

  “Well, we will try to match his face with any of those that are in our system—offenders and criminals who have records. But, as you can see, his face isn’t visible. At all times, he angled his head in such a way that he wasn’t seen clearly. It’s like he knew exactly where the cameras were.”

  “Yeah, a burglar that smart and prepared could have emptied the entire hotel, but he just takes some trinkets from us, trinkets that valued less than five thousand Euros. Don’t you find that weird?” Giovanni mused, talking as much to himself as to Alberto.

  “It is, yes,” the man replied, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Signore Coriola, I understand you plan to leave for home tomorrow, to Firenze. I will need your contact information so I can keep you updated about the investigation.”

  Giovanni reached for his wallet and extracted a business card, which he handed to Alberto.

  “My home number is there too. Please let me know as soon as you have something, anything.”

  “Of course. I don’t want you to worry. I assure you we will do our best to get to the bottom of this. I am sorry for any inconvenience.”

  “I’m even sorrier,” Giovanni muttered under his breath, but shook the man’s hand. “Can we gather our things now, and then get some rest? My fiancée and I are exhausted, Commissario. This has been an eventful day and not in a good way.”

  “Yes, we are done here for now. Have a safe trip, signore, signorina.” He inclined his head to each of them in turn. “I will be in touch with you soon.”

  After Alberto and his team left, Giovanni took Sonia’s hand and they headed upstairs to their former suite. The room was even more of a mess after the crime team had finished with it.

  They gathered their belongings in silence, stuffing them into plastic bags provided by the hotel. They planned to send the clothes to the cleaner as soon as they got home, and then have them sent to a charity center or something similar. Neither of them was going to wear anything that had been touched by the creep who’d snuck into their room and stolen their property.

  Giovanni watched Sonia as she bent down to pick up a red silk negligee she’d bought the day before. She’d tried it on for him last night but ended up only wearing it for just a few brief minutes, before he’d slipped it off her body and made love with her.

  Now, tired and quiet, she took the tainted fabric between two fingers and dropped it into one of the bags, a deep frown clouding her features.

  A smoldering fury burned in his blood. If he found this man, he knew he could easily kill him. The robbery had been a deliberate act. Not the desperate attempt of a poor man trying to feed his starving family—which he could have forgiven. No way was that man an ordinary mugger. His timing, his execution had been too well planned, even though at the end it appeared sloppy and messy. The man was a pro, hired by someone.

  The whole thing had been a snubbing by someone who knew him. Of someone who wanted to send him a message.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The drive back to Florence was as silent and gloomy as the weather. Sonia stared sightlessly through the windows, as the landscape rushed by, putting distance between them and the Sontuoso—a place where she didn’t ever want to return. She kept twisting thoughts and hypothesis in her mind, trying to find an explanation for what had happened, but with no avail.

  It was unthinkable that someone would deliberately target them and go to all the trouble of organizing a robbery just for a few trinkets or to give them a fright. But it was just as farfetched that the mysterious bearded man had stumbled precisely in their suite and only there, when he could have emptied a lot of other rooms. Sure, he wouldn’t know they would be gone unless he or a partner had followed them.

  The thought of that made her more uneasy than any other element of this whole business. To know someone had been watching them was nasty, disconcerting. She wondered if she would ever feel safe again.

  She looked across at Giovanni, who drove single-minded and quiet. His features were rigid and his eyes were cold, looking straight ahead, either at the road or toward his own inner ponderings.

  “What do you really think about what happened?” she asked him, unable to bear the tense silence any longer.

  He glanced at her in surprise, as though he’d been so lost in thought he’d forgotten she was there. He shook his head slowly from side to side in bewilderment.

  “I don’t know, cara. I just don’t know. The only person with whom I’ve had a confrontation was that son of a bitch, Tony. But that’s not news and we’ve had a lot worse word exchanges ever since my sister met him. I doubt he’d go to all the trouble to pay me back now, when our dealings with each other are over. Besides, I don’t think he has the contacts to pull off a hit like this so fast. And what would be the purpose? Tony is wealthy, he has no need to pay a guy to steal some jewelry.”

  “What exactly does he do?” Sonia asked, bending forward to turn down the radio’s volume.

  “He manufactures and sells wines, as far as I know.”

  “But you said Linda always felt he was involved in other things too,” she reminded him. “That might mean interlope stuff and such.”

  “It could, but this was such a silly thing—if we assume the purpose was to teach me a lesson. Not even Tony is that juvenile.”

  “Maybe the burglar was looking for something else, and only took the jewelry to make it look like a robbery.”

  He shot her an inquisitive look.

  “Like what?”

  She shrugged vaguely.

  “I don’t know. Money, credit cards…information about your business,” she went on, and then a thought struck her. “Your laptop! He took your laptop!”

  “That’s a thought that didn’t occur to me,” he mused. “But you don’t have to worry. I don’t keep anything important on my laptop. I access all my work-related info via a secure VPN connection. And after every session, the software automatically deletes any history and opened files. It’s close to impossible for anyone to trace something I’ve accessed. If that’s what he wanted, he’s in for
a huge disappointment.”

  “Thank God!” She sighed in relief, massaging her brow. “If we keep this up, we’re going to go crazy. Let’s just wait for the police to do their job. See what they find out.”

  “I agree, amore. I intend to call Alberto in a couple of days or so, if he doesn’t get back to me until then. Meanwhile,” he said, turning to look at her, “we will go buy you a gun.”

  Her face lighted and her spirits uplifted.

  “Really? I’d love that! But I don’t have papers, I’m not an Italian citizen yet. Is my gun permit valid here?”

  “I think so. But don’t worry, we’ll work it all out after the holidays,” he reassured her. “Look at us. Tomorrow is Christmas and we’re looking at this gorgeous time of year as if it’s just a hitch in our schedule.”

  “You’re right,” she consented, gazing at the snow blanketed on the fields stretching beyond both sides of the road. “Let’s just enjoy the holidays. After all, it’s our first Christmas together,” she added, leaning on his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head and she nestled closer, feeling safe and comforted. As long as they were together, nothing bad was going to happen.

  She was thrilled to get home, to be welcomed by bright lights and the smell of cinnamon cookies. Lucia had decorated the foyer and living room with Christmas symbols and candles. A huge Christmas tree awaited next to the window, accentuating the festive atmosphere.

  “We left it for you and signorina Sonia to decorate,” Paolo told them, his face warmed by a smile.

  “Thank you, Paolo, Lucia. Everything looks splendid,” Sonia exclaimed delighted, gazing around. “Where is—”

  She didn’t have time to finish the sentence because Guccio charged down the steps, half-running, half-slipping, and clumsily threw himself in her arms. He licked her face and hands madly, nearly knocking her down as she bent to hug him.

  “Here’s my boy, my beautiful boy! I’ve missed you so much,” she cooed, stroking his clean brown fur, as he waved his tail like a helicopter propeller, propping his front paws all over her.