Bunny Elder Adventure Series: Four Complete Novels: Hollow, Vain Pursuits, Seadrift, ...and Something Blue

by J. B. Hawker

  Of course, this ignorant deliveryman would not know if they turned over all the objects that had been ordered or not, and it would be no matter, once the money changed hands.

  Parma could simply assure the buyer that all the agreed upon items had been passed into this fellow’s keeping.

  Even so, Lucca had been instructed to stall, as they may yet recover the shepherd.

  If they did not, this boatman could try to explain any shortages in the shipment upon delivery.

  It would be this fool's problem, then, if the buyer decided to kill the messenger.

  That thought brought an oily smile to Lucca's long, reptilian face.

  “We will meet you here tomorrow at this same time to arrange for the transfer. Meanwhile, you may enjoy all that Napoli has to offer.”

  Lucca and Roberto turned abruptly and strode away, leaving Tenny staring after them, uncertain about what was happening and what this delay might mean.

  

  While Max savored his authentic Neapolitan pizza, and his shipmate anxiously walked back to the sloop in Naples, Bunny and Taffy were still in Rome enjoying an elegant and relaxed dinner in their convent hotel's sala da pranzo, or dining room.

  “I can't get over the difference in the accommodations between the convent hotels in the north and these in Rome, Bunny. In Venice we ate with the sisters, family-style, and slept in a nun’s cell. Here, we might as well be in any modern hotel.”

  “I felt safe and welcomed by the sisters in Venice and I appreciated the Christian atmosphere permeating the place, but I have to confess I am really enjoying this, with our own private table and a menu to choose from.”

  “It is lovely, isn't it? But, I have a confession, too. When I was looking over that menu of Italian delights, what I really wanted to find on it was turkey and stuffing. Apparently my appetite knows in America it is Thanksgiving time.”

  Bunny chuckled.

  “I’ve been having those sorts of pangs, too. Earlier today, riding between tourist stops, I was thinking about autumn back home. Remember those pumpkin spice pancakes Mom made when we were little? Smelling those on a Saturday morning let me know Thanksgiving was on the way.”

  “I think she must have used the pumpkin left over from making the holiday pies. I remember helping her to get the pies ready to bake on the weekend before Thanksgiving. She would always put them in the freezer until Wednesday and bake them with the turkey on Thursday morning. Talk about wonderful aromas! Nothing beats Thanksgiving for great smells.”

  “You don’t suppose we are getting just a little homesick, do you, Taffy?”

  “Oh, of course not...Well, maybe a bit nostalgic, I guess. I will be very happy when I’m back in Idaho, but I’m not ready for our adventure to end, just yet. I still need to get my nativity set from Naples, remember? So let’s not allow any homesickness until after that, deal?”

  “Deal. Oh, here’s my mezzaluna ravioli. Each little crescent is stuffed with spinach, mushrooms and cheese. Doesn’t it smell delicioso?”

  The women gave thanks, Italian-style, with a murmured, “grazie a Dio,” and dug in with enthusiasm, banishing homesickness with the combined healing powers of gratitude and great food.

  

  “They must be in the city! If, as my uncle believes, these women are aware of our plans for delivery of the goods, then they know tonight was the scheduled exchange. They must be here, already. Why can’t we find them?”

  Felice ran his hands through his dark, thick hair. He was beside himself with frustration.

  His men watching the taxis at the train station had not seen any women matching the description.

  None of the hotels reported similar guests, either.

  The sudden thought they might have traveled by car, or were staying in a private home, gave Felice a sick feeling.

  “Why didn’t we think of that? Don Antonio will be furious. Lucca! Send men to check the car rental agencies between here and Verona. We cannot be sure the women stayed on the train. Also, canvas the neighborhoods for word of any American women staying as guests in private homes. We must cover every possibility. And check the buses!”

  As Lucca went out, Parma picked up the phone and aggressively punched in numbers, waited, then spoke abruptly to the man who answered, “Double the guard on the warehouse. The women or their compatriots may have slipped through. Even now they could be attempting to steal the rest of our merchandise. Don’t argue. Just do it!”

  His uncle was waiting to hear the women were in hand. Zio Antonio was not a patient man.

  Chapter Eight

  And they came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger. Luke 2:16

  At Piazzale Pisacane, the Naples headquarters of the Guardia Costiera, the capo ufficio, Filippo Marini, looked up from the papers on his desk when his subordinate entered the office.

  “Capo Marini, sir, we have another report of increased Camorra activities in the city and near the ports. Do you have any orders?”

  “Tell me, what is the nature of these activities? Do the local Polizia or the Carabinieri think this is to be a Guardia Costiera matter?”

  “So far, there has been nothing to act upon, just more camorristi coming into the city, hanging around the train station and hotels. Word is they are looking for someone.”

  “Until we have more information there is nothing to be done. This is probably an internal mafia matter, anyway. So long as they don’t take to the sea and no innocent person becomes involved, they can deal with it amongst themselves.”

  

  On the sleek, high speed Italo train, Bunny and Taffy were settling into their seats for the hour-long trip to Napoli, their ultimate destination on this trip of a lifetime.

  “I almost wish this leg of our journey would take longer. These leather reclining seats are so comfy. Why couldn’t all of the Italian trains have been this nice? Wouldn’t it be lovely if we could fly home in such style?”

  “Definitely. The roomy aisles and easily accessible luggage racks certainly make traveling more pleasant. I like that all the seats face forward in this train, too. Riding backwards makes me seasick. They even have, well, certainly not flight attendants, but maybe train attendants? What would you call them, Taffy?”

  “I would call them very pleasant and helpful, whatever their official title might be. Why can’t we have trains like this in America?”

  “Well, Mussolini made the trains run on time in Italy before WWII, but surely he doesn’t get the credit for this beauty. If it does take a dictator to get nice public transportation, then it is definitely not worth it.”

  “We have three whole days to spend in Naples, Bunny. Let’s shop for my special nativity set the very first thing. That way, if we don’t find what I’m looking for on the first day, we will have two more days to keep shopping. It’s the main reason for this trip, after all. So, right after we check into our hotel I want to go to Via San Gregorio Armeno. That’s known as ‘Crib Street’ to crèche collectors all around the world.”

  “You said before the official Christmas market runs from about the first week in December through Epiphany in January. Since it is just about to open we should have a great selection.”

  “I was a bit disappointed the convent hotel we had booked wasn’t able to accommodate our extended stay, though. I hope the B&B we found will be comfortable.”

  “Do you suppose it will be like the cottagey B&B’s we have in the States?”

  “We will know soon enough, Bunny, we’re almost in Naples.”

  Their train was certainly luxurious, but the station, when they arrived, was a shambles, with construction equipment scattered everywhere and shouting workmen milling about in confusion.

  Apparently, repairs were underway and a small crane had collapsed just as the Italo train pulled in.

  Bunny and Taffy managed to squeeze around the melee.

  They emerged onto the sidewalk about half a block from the main station entrance to the a
ccompaniment of the ululations of Italian emergency vehicles converging on the site.

  There was nothing the women could do to help, except stay out of the way of the rescue workers, so they walked as quickly as possible away from the accident scene.

  L’Attico B&B, advertised as being in the “safe area” of Naples historical center, didn’t look too promising as the sisters approached.

  It was only a short trek from the train station, but they felt the need to guard their luggage and handbags as they walked the gantlet between aggressive peddlers and other unsavory-looking pedestrians on the refuse strewn sidewalks.

  This bed and breakfast, rather than being a country cottage, was on the eighth floor of a decaying building hosting a variety of businesses on its lower levels.

  Once inside, however, the sisters were greeted warmly by the owner, Luigi Baccigaluppi.

  Bunny had to suppress a smile when he introduced himself.

  This Luigi had a Super Mario Brothers moustache worthy of his namesake in the video game. Only a hat and overalls were needed to complete the look.

  After registering his guests, he escorted Taffy to the elevator, with Bunny scurrying to catch up.

  When they stopped at the elevator Bunny and Taffy exchanged a look of surprise as Luigi pointed out a little bowl of euro coins provided for his guests to operate the lift.

  Inside their room, with the door safely triple locked, they looked at each other and laughed.

  “That’s a new one on me. Have you ever heard of a coin-operated elevator, Bunny?”

  “Nope. I was also a bit surprised when Luigi mentioned breakfast costs an extra two euros in this bed and breakfast hotel, but maybe that’s something that gets lost in translation. But, only about three dollars for room service breakfast is cheap enough, if the food is good, anyway. I guess we’ll find out if it’s worth it tomorrow morning.”

  Standing by the window, Taffy agreed, “This place was very reasonably priced, even with the extra charge. We also have an amazing view of Mt. Vesuvius, since we’re up so high. Bunny, come look. It will be a very easy walk to all of the sights, and it’s safe ¾ the building has lots of security.”

  “Well, Luigi isn’t a ‘warm and caring’ nun, but he seems very charming and this room is certainly clean.”

  Looking around the room, Bunny saw they had a small painted table for their breakfast, a chintz-covered armchair, an elaborately carved wooden wardrobe with padded hangers and two comfortable-looking single beds.

  The towels were big and spotlessly clean in the attached bath and amenities such as soap and shampoo were provided.

  “Yes, I think we will be very comfortable here. The neighborhood’s a little iffy, but we won’t be going on any midnight rambles, anyway. Let’s get unpacked and hit that Street of Cribs.”

  A nineteen-minute walk later, the sisters were overwhelmed by the variety of wares offered in the artisan shops on the famous crèche street.

  The crowds weren’t as bad as they would be a bit later in the month, but every tiny shop on the narrow street was crammed to the rafters with presepio shells, as the bases were called, and miniature figures of every imaginable description.

  Most of the shells were much more elaborate than the common lean-to stables usually found in America. Many resembled entire mountainsides or small villages.

  Even the simplest stable they saw was a two-story structure with multiple rooms. These cost about thirty dollars, which fit in with Taffy’s budget.

  Filling the shell would be an additional expense, of course, but the biggest problem would be deciding which characters to buy.

  Bunny saw one particular figure featured in almost every shop, but she knew Taffy would not want to include the beak-nosed clown puppet, Pulcinella, in her Christmas displays, even though the Italians seemed to find him endearing.

  He looked like an Italian version of the aggressive Punch puppet in those old Punch and Judy shows. Not particularly Christmassy, in Bunny’s opinion, but, she supposed that was a matter of cultural tradition and personal taste.

  Taffy wanted to stick with the basic nativity cast of holy family, magi, shepherds and livestock, but it would still be a monumental task to select just the right ones from the vast variety available.

  For lunch, they grazed from the many food vendors on the street while wandering between the shops.

  Poking around in all the fascinating Italian Christmas items was mesmerizing.

  The little witch who brings Italian children gifts, La Befana, was represented in a myriad of forms, always wearing red and white clothing and carrying a broom.

  Bunny bought a tiny version to hang on her own Christmas tree.

  Taffy finally decided upon the base she wanted.

  It was a relatively small shell with caves for stables supporting a cluster of clay houses situated on the hillside above.

  She could just about imagine something like it in ancient Bethlehem. The price was twenty-five euros, about forty dollars, if she calculated the exchange rate correctly.

  It would accommodate as many or as few “extras” as she decided upon and would fit on her antique sideboard perfectly.

  When she learned the vendor was willing to ship it back to Boise for her, too, she bought it on the spot.

  As it began to grow dark, the pair determined to call it a day.

  Tomorrow they would return for Taffy to select appropriate characters to populate her little village.

  Returning to the B&B later than anticipated, the sisters were hungry, in spite of their earlier snacking, and noticed the lights of a twenty-four hour café just next to their building.

  The aroma of the food pulled them inside and they enjoyed the most delicious pizza they had ever eaten. The hand-thrown crust was yeasty and chewy, the toppings did not include the ubiquitous pepperoni and there was none of the grease they had come to associate with pizzas back home.

  Washed down by a glass of the house red wine it was the perfect cap to their day.

  Back in their room, Taffy’s head swam a bit from the wine as she performed her yoga positions.

  Deep Forward Fold threatened to send her pizza on a return trip and she nearly toppled over in the Tree pose, but she stuck with it and managed to complete her full session without mishap, while Bunny dutifully entered the day’s details into her journal.

  When they said their good-nights and climbed into the comfy beds, they were exhausted.

  Bunny almost immediately began to hear soft snores from her sister. In mere moments her deep breaths and murmurs provided counterpoint in a slumberous interlude duet.

  Chapter Nine

  Who has woe? Who has sorrow? Who has strife? Who has complaints? Who has needless bruises? Who has bloodshot eyes? Proverbs 23:29

  Luigi’s face was flushed an angry red.

  “These mafiosi are becoming too brazen,” he fumed, as he prepared to eat his noonday meal in the cozy apartment behind the reception area of the bed and breakfast.

  “Oriana, did I tell you about the ruffians who dared to threaten me. . . me, Luigi, owner of the finest B&B in Napoli, just this very morning?” he asked with a huff that ruffled his luxurious moustache.

  “Sì, caro, it is dreadful. How frightening for you,” his wife responded soothingly, as she carried a steaming plate of pasta to the table using her apron to protect her fingers from the hot crockery.

  “Pah! I was never frightened! They don’t scare me, these bullies. When they asked about our guests, our private guests . . . as if I would tell them anything. . . I looked them right in the eye and I said I had seen no one of that description. I sent them away with a flea in their ears, you can bet.”

  “But you didn’t make them angry, Luigi mio? These can be dangerous men.”

  A worried frown wrinkled Oriana’s usually serenely smooth brow.

  With the back of her hand she brushed at a wisp of dark, graying hair the cooking steam had teased loose from the thick knot at the nape of her neck.

&
nbsp; “I care nothing for their anger, Orianissima,” he retorted with a snap of his fingers.

  “I will protect my home and my guests . . . I wouldn’t have told those thugs what they wanted to know, even if the people they sought had been right upstairs.”

  “Ah, Luigi! You are so masterful. I am the luckiest of women. Now relax and enjoy the calamari, it is just the way you like it, extra crispy and with fresh lemon juice in the tomato sauce.”

  

  For their extra three dollars each, the sisters had enjoyed a sumptuous breakfast of coffee, juice, croissants and biscuits delivered right to their room that morning before they headed out for another assault on Crib Street.

  Entering the narrow lane paved with square slates, overhung by balconies, overhead walkways and lined with craftsmen’s shops, they were once again delighted by the colorful array.

  Even in the shadowy dimness, the flowers and painted wares on display shone brightly.

  As the sisters walked deeper into this special street there seemed to be more illumination from the crowded shop windows than from the sky above.

  While Taffy haggled with a vendor over the holy family she wanted, Bunny browsed among the souvenirs near the doorway.

  Looking out, her attention was caught by a couple of rough-looking characters who seemed out of place in the crowd of tourists and shoppers, as they moved purposefully from vendor to vendor, pausing only briefly to exchange a few words before passing on to the next.

  They started to veer in her direction after visiting the stall across the lane, when a guided bicycle tour blocked their path.

  One of the cycling tourists hit a crooked tile and began to wobble, as she fought valiantly to remain upright, eventually losing her contest with gravity and crashing to the paving.

  Just then, Taffy completed her purchase and hurried Bunny away from the confusion in front of the shop.

  She had finally decided on a set of wise men seen in a shop window earlier in the day.