by Karen Moore
The cufflink proved to her, beyond any doubt, that a member of Luciano’s family was responsible for shooting Ceri and causing the death of her unborn baby. This time Luciano and his family had gone too far. They couldn’t be allowed to get away with it. She felt a burning desire, a compulsion, to help. But what could she do? Her head was spinning as she tried to think of a possible solution.
The door creaked open, and Rhys appeared with a glass of water. She took it gratefully and gulped down the contents.
“Feeling any better?”
“A little.”
“You recognised the crest on the cufflink, didn’t you? So, whose is it?”
Hanna nodded. “Yes, it’s… It’s the Cortazzo family crest. Luciano’s family. It’s on all the wine bottles from their estate.”
Rhys looked grim. “Thought as much, given your reaction. C’mon on, we need to tell Sergio.”
Hanna rose unsteadily to her feet and followed Rhys back into the kitchen where Sergio was waiting expectantly. She repeated what she’d told Rhys. Sergio’s face paled and he swayed as if on the verge of collapse.
“Steady on!” Rhys grabbed him, before turning to Hanna. “You’re sure?”
Hanna shot him a withering look. “Of course, I’m sure. I’ve seen it so many times. Google it if you don’t believe me.” She slumped into the chair next to Sergio. Rhys remained standing, as if at a loss of what to do or say. Sergio buried his head in his hands and uttered a long groan.
A few minutes passed as they each tried to deal with the situation. A thick cloud of despondency hung over them. No one felt inclined to speak. Hanna could see the despair etched on the two men’s faces. It was as if they all realised that they’d reached a tipping point, a point of no return.
Rhys was the first to snap out of it. “Sergio, we need to get back to your dad. He’s waiting for an answer. I can do it.”
Hanna reached for the phone, grateful for something positive to do. “I’ll do it. It’s easier for me and he may have more questions.”
Vincenzo answered immediately and listened as Hanna explained for the third time about the cufflink. “We also found some tyre tracks at the scene, so at least we’ve got something to work on now. Any news of Ceri?”
Hanna couldn’t quite believe he hadn’t already made his own enquiries. “Not yet. We’re just about to phone the hospital.”
“Let me know when you hear something, okay?”
“We will.” Hanna ended the call and turned to the other two.
“What’s best, phone or go straight to the hospital?” asked Rhys who had obviously been listening to the call.
“Probably phone first, see how she is and whether she’s up to having visitors.” Hanna nudged Sergio gently. “Better if you call, as her next of kin. They’re unlikely to give out information to anyone else.”
Sergio straightened up and took the phone from Hanna, searched for the number, and punched it in. The call was answered quickly but then he seemed to be left hanging on for several minutes, probably while the receptionist went to check on Ceri’s condition. Finally, Sergio mumbled a few incomprehensible words and hung up, a grimace on his face.
“Christ, it’s so difficult to get information out of these people!” he exploded, hitting the table in frustration. “No news, I’m afraid. The consultant was with her and the receptionist didn’t want to interrupt. She asked me to call back later.”
***
Half an hour passed before Sergio tried the hospital again, to be told that his wife would be well enough for them to visit that afternoon but only for a few minutes.
“Well, at least that’s something,” said Hanna soothingly, wondering why the hospital hadn’t commented on her condition. They’d probably find out more once they were there in person.
Sergio remained grim-faced, although his expression had softened slightly. He fell silent, scouring his phone for God knows what.
“I’ll make some more coffee.” Rhys got up, filled the coffee pot, and put it on the stove.
Desperate for something to do, Hanna left the kitchen and began to gather up their ruined wedding outfits, stuffing them into a carrier bag she found in one of the bedrooms. She left it by the front door, ready to dispose of when they went out. As she returned to the kitchen, the echoey ring of the entry phone resonated through the apartment.
Sergio’s initial look of concern turned to relief when he answered it. “My dad. He wants to talk to us.”
Moments later, a slightly breathless Vincenzo appeared at the front door. Despite a change of clothes, he looked dishevelled and had dark circles under his eyes as if he’d had little sleep, his expression sombre. Sergio ushered him into the kitchen without a word. Rhys poured him a coffee and set it down on the table.
“I think you should all stay here for a few days,” he said, without preamble. “The hotel is closed off as a crime scene. And it’s much too dangerous for you to return home to Cefalù yet. I’ll get your bags packed and brought here. We’ll also need to take statements from you, but we can arrange to do that here. This way we can keep both the apartment and the hospital under surveillance in case of any further trouble.”
“What do you mean, further trouble?” Sergio looked hard at his father.
Vincenzo held his gaze. “The gunmen may well come back to finish the job. Or Ceri may not have been their intended target.”
Chapter Forty-Two
“You… you mean, they might have been after one of us?” Hanna asked, incredulously.
Vincenzo shrugged. “It’s a possibility. We can’t rule anything out at this stage.”
“There’s something else you should know, Papὰ,” said Sergio gravely. “The night before the wedding, I was threatened the night before by three men in the hotel restaurant. They told me to forget the police investigation and the media story into the people-trafficking. Or else.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Vincenzo’s face was stern. “Did they assault you?”
“No, they didn’t lay a finger on me. I told them to go to hell.”
“Very wise. Now look what’s happened.” Vincenzo was more exasperated than cross, as if amazed that his usual streetwise son could be so naïve. “If I’d known, I could have put a closer watch on the church and the hotel. Why didn’t you take it more seriously?”
Sergio looked contrite. “I should have. But it’s not unusual to get threatened in my line of work. If I told you every time it happens, we’d never talk of anything else.”
Vincenzo glared at him. “What’s happened has happened,” he said gruffly. “We just have to pray that Ceri survives and nothing else occurs. But let me make it clear, I have no intention of dropping the police investigation. It’s up to you whether you publish the story or not.”
“If I don’t, other journalists will run with it.”
“Yes, but not in as much depth or with as much passion,” responded Vincenzo drily. “For you, it’s almost a personal vendetta.” Then under his breath, scarcely audible: “As it is for me.”
How much sorrow could one family take, thought Hanna? Two deaths at the hands of Luciano or his henchmen. First, Sergio’s brother Pino; now, Ceri’s unborn baby. Would this harden their resolve, or soften it?
“There’s something else you should know,” said Sergio, leading his father into the lounge, shutting the door behind them.
***
The two men were gone some time. All that could be heard was the sound of low voices and the occasional sob. It was unclear whether it came from Sergio or his father.
Hanna looked helplessly at Rhys. “D’you think that either of us could have been the target?”
Rhys looked blank. “You tell me. You know how things work round here, and you were the one married into the mob.”
Hanna felt a jolt of anger. “Not knowingly! I would never have married Luciano had I known the truth about the family business. I certainly wouldn’t have brought a child into such a world,” she said, kickin
g herself for having been so naïve.
Rhys held his hands up. “Sorry. Bad choice of words. I wouldn’t have thought either of us pose much of a risk. We discovered the Welsh connection, but that’s all. It’s Sergio and his dad who are threatening to expose the trafficking ring and arrest the ringleaders. The gunmen may have shot Ceri by mistake or done it deliberately to warn off Sergio. Who knows?”
They sat in silence, lost in thought. When father and son returned, Vincenzo seemed to have aged ten years. His skin was the colour of ashes and his gait unsteady, so visibly shaken was he by the conversation he’d just had with his son. Hanna presumed Sergio had told him about the baby. Rhys rummaged through the cupboards for the bottle of brandy, poured a couple of generous measures into glasses and handed them to the two men.
Vincenzo downed his drink in one. He set his glass back on the table with a resounding thud and said, “Let me know how you get on at the hospital. I’ll send an officer round later to take your statements. In the meantime, if there’s anything – anything at all – you remember that might be important, get in touch straight away.” With that, he turned on his heel and left without a backward glance, slamming the front door shut behind him.
Hanna flinched at the noise. “When did the hospital say we could visit?” she asked.
“Anytime between two and three this afternoon, but only for a few minutes,” Sergio muttered in response.
Hanna glanced at the kitchen clock. “Okay, I’ll pop out and get something for lunch.”
“I’ll come too,” said Rhys, getting up.
“No, you stay here with Sergio. I won’t be long.”
“Hanna, it might not be safe,” said Rhys, with a frown.
Hanna went over to the kitchen window and looked out on the street below. Sure enough, she noticed what she suspected: two men sitting at a pavement café, deep in conversation, cigarettes in hand. Two men she recognised from the church the day before. She beckoned Rhys over and pointed out the two men.
“See? Vincenzo’s already keeping us under observation. No need to worry about me. I’ll be fine. And the alimentari is only a stone’s throw away.”
“Sure?”
“Positive. I’ll only be a couple of minutes.”
She collected a key from the hook by the front door, picking up the carrier bag full of their ruined clothes on the way out. She dumped it in one of the communal refuse bins at the side of the apartment block before continuing on to the small supermarket further down the street, wondering what on earth she could buy that would stimulate their non-existent appetites.
***
Ceri looked so frail and vulnerable, lying motionless in the hospital bed, wired up to various monitors, her eyes closed as if asleep. Her face was pinched and pale, a shadow of her former self. Hanna felt a rush of affection for her best friend. What if she didn’t pull through? Her insides tightened, and affection was replaced by dread.
As they watched, Ceri’s eyelids suddenly flickered. Slowly, she opened her eyes, screwing them up against the harsh light, trying to focus.
Sergio stepped forward, kissed the top of her head and squeezed her shoulder, steering clear of all the wires connecting her to the equipment. “Amore,” he said softly. “I’m here. How are you feeling?”
Ceri didn’t respond. The nurse had warned them that she had been heavily sedated and might not recognise them at first. Sergio continued talking, as if to reassure her it was really him.
“Your brother and Hanna are here too, tesoro. D’you see them?”
Ceri stared at them, blankly at first, then with a faint glimmer of recognition. Several minutes passed before she summoned up the strength to speak.
“Some wedding day,” she whispered with a thin smile, her face distorted with the effort.
Sergio looked overjoyed, his face transformed by a beaming smile. “That’s my girl!” He looked as if he was going to hug her but then thought better of it, given the amount of equipment she was hooked up to. Her eyes flickered again, closing and opening, until finally they shut completely as she drifted off to sleep. A nurse popped her head around the curtain.
“Did she wake up?” she asked gently, checking the readings on the monitors as she did so.
Sergio gulped and nodded. “Very briefly.”
“Don’t worry, that’s only to be expected, what with the sedation and the trauma. Did she recognise you?”
Sergio nodded again.
“That’s a good sign. Better leave her to get some rest now.”
The nurse smiled kindly as she led them out of the unit. Turning to Sergio, she added: “Signor Graziano, Doctor Di Mauro would like a word with you before you go. This way, please.”
Chapter Forty-Three
“So, what did the doctor say?” Hanna asked as soon as Sergio appeared from the doctor’s office. She had been pacing the corridor outside, thinking all sorts and fearing the worst the longer the meeting lasted.
Sergio looked beaten, his shoulders hunched, his face screwed into a grimace. He flopped onto the nearest plastic chair. Hanna could feel her heart and pulse racing as she waited for his response. He opened his mouth to speak; the words came slowly as if each one caused him pain.
“It’s… it’s… still…” he began in a shaky voice, “early days. But the surgery went well. Difficult to tell yet if she’ll make a full recovery.” He gulped, then struggled on. “No damage to any of the major organs. Just the baby…”
He broke out in sobs, covering his face with his hands as the tears started to flow. Hanna flew to his side and flung her arms round him. She had no words. What could she say that would make him feel better? Rhys looked on helplessly. She cradled Sergio in her arms, making soothing noises until he calmed down. A uniformed police officer appeared out of nowhere and asked if he could do anything to help. He was obviously one of the police guard that Vincenzo had arranged for Ceri.
Hanna shook her head and gently helped Sergio to his feet. “Thanks, but we’ll be fine. We’re going now.”
The policeman smiled politely and disappeared down the corridor.
***
Back at the apartment Sergio lay slumped on the sofa in a catatonic state. His eyes were open, and he stared blankly at the ceiling. All attempts to engage him in conversation or persuade him to eat or drink failed. It was as if his world had ended. Hanna wondered whether he knew more about Ceri’s condition than he was admitting to. Eventually she and Rhys left him alone and retreated to the kitchen. They sat at the table, nursing yet another cup of coffee.
“I’ve never seen him like this,” said Hanna. “He’s always been so strong, so in control. D’you think it’s shock that’s causing it?”
“Possibly. It could be his way of coping.” Rhys finished off the last of his coffee. “As if getting married wasn’t stressful enough. But seeing your new bride getting shot during the first dance, then the awful news about the baby she was carrying… It’s the stuff of nightmares.”
“D’you think it’s just a temporary thing?”
Rhys shrugged. “Who knows? We’ll have to wait and see.”
Hanna sat back in her chair. The shooting may well have stalled the police investigation into the trafficking ring and any imminent arrests, if not stopped it altogether. Would it still go ahead now, given the risks? And what about the media story? Surely Sergio wouldn’t want to pursue it now? Her head throbbed.
A ping from her mobile phone alerted her to a new message from Vincenzo:
“Tried to get hold of Sergio but he’s not answering his phone. How’s Ceri doing? Marta’s taken a turn for the worse. On my way home now. Be in touch later.”
She showed Rhys the message. “Strange he didn’t even contact his dad after going to see Ceri,” she said, her voice anxious. “He doesn’t seem to be coping very well. It’s as if he’s retreated within himself.”
“Maybe he feels responsible for everything’s that’s happened,” Rhys replied.
“Could be. Difficult to know
what we can do to help.”
Rhys shrugged. “Just be here to support him, I guess. See what happens over the next few days.”
“We’re due to fly home the day after tomorrow, remember,” Hanna said with a frown. “We can’t leave Eva any longer than that. Which reminds me, I must call and check how she’s doing.”
She sent a quick text to Vincenzo to tell him what little they knew about Ceri. Then she dialled Nerys’ number and waited so long for a response that she was starting to panic. Finally, a breathless Nerys picked up.
“Thank God!” Hanna blurted out. “I was beginning to think something was wrong.”
Nerys laughed. “No, everything’s fine. I’d left my mobile in the kitchen, and we were just coming in from the studio when I heard it ring. Everything OK?”
“Not really. I’ll explain later. How’s Eva? How are things with you?”
“We’re having a whale of a time, aren’t we, poppet?” Nerys sounded happy and carefree.
Hanna could hear Eva giggling in the background and felt a huge surge of relief. “And the cottage?”
“Nothing that we’ve noticed. Let me put Eva on. She’s dying to talk to you!”
“Mummy!”
“Hi, sweet pea. Are you enjoying yourself with Auntie Nerys? How are Bryn and Cosmo?”
“Yes, we’re having an awesome time! I’ve been making pots and painting and helping Auntie Nerys with the animals. Lulu and Eric are amazing. Mummy, can we get an al…capa when you get back?”
She babbled on for several minutes, recounting everything she’d done in the short time they’d been away. It was such a joy hearing her voice, knowing that she, at least, was safe and happy. Eventually, Eva ran out of steam and handed the phone back to Nerys. Hanna briefly explained recent events. She could hear her friend’s sharp intake of breath at the end of the line.
“Oh my God! It sounds like something straight out of a film! Will you be okay? Do you need to stay on? It’s not a problem if you do.”