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

by J. B. Hawker

  Anthony Parma was silent.

  This was not possible. How could there be two sets of women of the same description with such unusual names? These must be the American tourists he met on the plane.

  Why would two such utterly innocuous women on vacation steal the icons? This made no sense. So, what were they playing at?

  “Zio Antonio? Are you there? Zio?”

  Had the old fellow fainted? Or worse, had he hung up in anger?

  Felice spoke more loudly into the phone, “Zio, are you all right?”

  Parma snapped out of his brief reverie and replied, “When these women appear at the palace, do nothing. Keep them in view, but do not act until I arrive. I am coming to Napoli on the helicopter and will be there soon. Do nothing until you see me. Nothing.”

  Anthony disconnected the call and immediately made another, then shakily began to change into traveling clothes, muttering under his breath all the while.

  Chapter 11

  Remember the former things, those of long ago… Isaiah 46:9

  It was only a short walk from the city center bus stop to the waterfront.

  The bus ride had revived them and Bunny and Taffy enjoyed a stroll along the Tyrrhenian Sea in the Porto Vecchio, or old port, before wandering into the modern section of the bayside neighborhood.

  Feeling a bit chilly from the brisk sea breeze, the sisters decided to hurry into the closest restaurant, Da Ettore. The menu posted outside boasted the essential Neapolitan pizza experience Bunny had been seeking.

  “It must be absolutely beautiful along the bay in the summertime, Taffy. Maybe when we get home and I begin earning my keep, I can start a travel savings account and come back some sunny day. I did toss coins into the Trevi fountain, after all.”

  “So, here you are, already thinking of another trip, just when I’m mentally packing up and going home. I’ve finally had my fill of sight-seeing. Getting back to the good old USA and finding a nice cozy bungalow for us outside Boise is all I want. Our apartment will do for a few more months, but before next Christmas I want to have a home of our own with just the right setting for my Nativity sets; a place to settle and stay put. I think I’ve had enough traveling to satisfy me for the rest of my life.”

  “Really? You don’t want to see any more of this beautiful earth? I’ll admit when we first planned this trip I was nervous about going off into the great unknown, but after being here, I feel empowered somehow, as if I could travel anywhere in the world. Of course, I’d rather do it in First Class. ‘Getting there’ on a budget is definitely not half the fun. It’s endurable, though, considering the rewards. It’s said travel broadens a person. I’m sure all the pizza and pasta I’ve been eating have moved me in that direction, but I think what that old saying really means is travel fundamentally changes a person. Don’t you feel any different?”

  “Oh, I suppose so. I do feel proud of myself for actually making this trip and not just dreaming about it. I wish Walt and I had been able to come here together. We were always waiting for just the right time until it was too late.”

  The food arrived, breaking their suddenly somber mood, and the sisters discovered how luscious, albeit broadening, the authentic Neapolitan pizza could be.

  “Oh dear, Bunny! I really think we should have ordered just one pizza and shared it, like I suggested. Mine was so scrumptious I ate the whole thing before I even realized it and now I feel like a boa constrictor who swallowed a horse,” Taffy groaned as the sisters left the restaurant.

  “Each pizza was a single serving according to the menu. And I refuse to feel guilty for eating every delectable bite. That margherita pizza was heavenly! You should have ordered the same kind, rather than having sausage and peppers. Tomatoes, basil and mozzarella are easier to digest than spicy ground meat. Gosh, look at the time! Let’s try to catch a cab to the Piazza del Plebiscito. We still need to see the domed church and the Royal Palace. Hurry up! A little hustle might help you work off that sausage.”

  “I want to just go back to the hotel to pack and rest, Bunny. Do we have to go on?” Taffy moaned.

  “Come on, Taffy. I don’t want to go alone. You said we could do what I wanted today. I’ve done everything you asked so far on this trip. We can skip the church if you are really too tired, but I especially wanted to see that palace roof garden. Can’t you hang in there just a little while longer?”

  “Oh, all right! Good grief! I had forgotten how whiney you can be sometimes, Bunny. Here’s a taxi. Can you even make the poor driver understand where it is you insist on going?”

  

  Max Banks was walking to his favorite Neapolitan pizza place.

  He had learned the English translation of the name is “by Hector”. He was thinking he’d like to shake Hector’s hand for the great food, when he noticed two middle-aged women standing a little further along on the sidewalk, just past the restaurant.

  They seemed to be arguing about something. As he watched, the woman with her back to him turned to flag down a cab and Max was struck by her resemblance to Bunny Elder.

  “This is getting ridiculous,” he muttered to himself. “Now I’m imagining I see the silly creature, like I’m some moonstruck teenager.”

  When Max was within earshot, he heard the dark-haired woman snap, “Come on, Bunny! Get in. Since you must see the rooftop garden of that old royal palace, let’s go and get it over with.”

  What the f..! Max thought. That is Bunny! She’s here, in Naples. Unbelievable!

  He hurried toward the taxi shouting, “Bunny! Wait!”

  The taxi zipped into traffic and disappeared.

  What in the world is Bunny doing in Italy? Max wondered.

  Seeing her actually here, he felt compelled to confront her.

  He had to talk to her. There was a reason they were both in this place at the same time. There was something at work here; God or fate or Karma, or something, and he was going to find out what.

  Max had overheard Bunny ask to be taken to the Piazza del Plebiscito to see the Royal Palace roof gardens.

  He had visited there the previous day on his disappointing tourist jaunt.

  That other woman must have been Bunny’s sister, Linda. He hadn’t seen her in years, but her most recognizable features hadn’t changed much.

  Max never had a lot to do with either of Bunny’s older sisters. He wished this one wasn’t here now. He needed to talk to Bunny in private.

  He’d manage to get her alone, somehow.

  Max hailed a cab, told the driver, “Palazzo Reale”, with a Texas twang and hopped in.

  

  Bunny was sorry that Taffy was angry with her. She had tried so hard to make her sister’s trip special and now, by insisting on her own way, she had, if not completely spoiled the trip, at least darkened this, their last day in Italy.

  “Is your stomach really upset, Taffy? Do you need to take something for it? I have a whole collection of stomach and digestive aids in my suitcase. I packed everything any of the travel websites recommended into a little traveler’s insurance kit. I may even have some Tums in my purse.”

  “Oh, don’t fuss so. I’m sure I will be fine...eventually,” she responded with a heavy sigh.

  Taffy had morphed from angry and ill to long-suffering martyr in record time.

  Bunny tried to remember her sister was a recent widow and to make allowances for her moodiness.

  This trip had been relatively free from sibling drama, so far, and she wanted to keep it that way.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better. I’m sure you are going to enjoy the Royal Palace. All the travel articles I read said visiting the roof gardens is an experience people never forget.”

  

  Lucca, Roberto and the others were already at the semicircular nineteenth century Piazza del Plebiscito.

  Their search of the domed church and massive Royal Palace had been unsuccessful, so far.

  Lucca posted men at the main entrances to both buildings and at
the bus stop. Since the women were not yet here, the hope was they would be arriving soon.

  The men would wait. These women could not elude them.

  

  Max paid his driver with a handful of euros and looked around.

  He didn’t see Bunny or her sister anywhere in the large, paved plaza.

  The crowds were sparse, so if the sisters weren’t hidden from his view behind one of the equestrian statues in front of the church, they must have already gone into the palace.

  He knew they were headed for the roof garden, so he decided to try to catch up to them there.

  

  Bunny was seriously annoyed with Taffy.

  This really was the limit. Her sister seemed determined to prevent Bunny from having even one activity of her own choosing in Italy.

  When the cab was just a block away from the plaza Taffy had begun to moan and exclaimed that she needed to see a doctor, right away.

  The driver had diverted his cab to a nearby clinic and dropped them off.

  When he drove away Taffy suddenly belched loudly, broke wind, and proclaimed with an air of satisfaction, “Ah, that’s better,” and announced she no longer had any pain.

  Bunny made up her mind to see that roof garden, one way or another.

  She grasped Taffy by the hand and practically force marched her in the direction of the palace.

  Because they were now approaching the rear of the massive building, the pair entered through a service door marked Privati: Non Entrano and made their way, as inconspicuously as possible, from the staff and utility rooms into the magnificently appointed royal salons.

  Once in the public areas they merely followed the signs directing them up the stairs to the roof garden.

  If she had not already overdosed on classical Italian art, Bunny would have been more disappointed not to have the time to explore the rest of this dazzling Bourbon palace.

  She managed to catch just a glimpse of the ceiling frescos in one of the elegant reception rooms as they rushed through and she knew she could spend a week drinking it all in and only skim the surface.

  Bunny had discovered on this trip that being confronted with masses of exquisite art all at once had a numbing effect on her senses.

  Nevertheless, she was determined to at least see this roof garden.

  Afterwards, she could go home without any serious regrets.

  Being afraid they may have broken the law by coming in the back way, Bunny vowed to herself she would pay the admission price on the way out and leave through the main door.

  She had no wish to end her stay in Italy behind the bars of an Italian prison, even if DaVinci himself painted the graffiti in the cell.

  Stepping onto the roof, the first thing catching Bunny’s eye was an intricate circular iron filigree railing in the center of a vine embowered walkway leading out into the garden.

  As she emerged from under the arbor, Bunny saw Mt. Vesuvius loom up across the bay and gleaming white cruise ships basking in the harbor below.

  The gardens were not as lush and green as they would be in the spring and summer months, but they were a sufficiently lovely setting from which to marvel at the amazing view.

  Bunny was trying to imprint everything on her memory as she walked around a topiary grouping and blundered awkwardly right into the restraining arms of a man.

  

  Don Parma was securely strapped into his seat in the helicopter on the way to Naples.

  He was grateful for the restraints. He had become so weak just sitting upright was becoming an ordeal.

  He could remember when he was as strong as a bull, a raging bull, like boxer, Jake LaMotta.

  Like LaMotta he had feared no one, but many feared him.

  Now, he was as weak as a newly hatched chick and only controlled his men through the force of his will and reputation.

  This trip was taking much of the little vigor remaining to him in this life.

  Raised Catholic, Anthony felt certain this life was not the end of existence, but he hadn’t thought too much about that until his recent illness.

  It certainly hadn’t made any impact on his life choices.

  The afterlife was much on his mind, now, though.

  Pride made the thought of a cowardly ‘foxhole conversion’ anathema to him, but he couldn’t get the pictures of eternal agony out of his mind.

  He had been having nightmares filled with a rich variety of torments which might be awaiting him.

  Parma was at a turning point and time was running out.

  Before his illness, the old man’s greatest fear was to live a life without impact, one where no one remembered him after he was gone.

  When his old friend, Señor Hugo Chavez, in Venezuela, contacted him with a favor he felt only Parma could grant, Anthony seized upon the opportunity to make a difference in at least this one instance.

  He would do what no one else dared and he would oversee the process personally, becoming a legend in his world.

  Chavez had been battling heath issues of his own and found surrounding himself with beauty made the struggles easier to bear, so he wanted to add to his collection of religious art.

  He gave Parma a shopping list of some of the rarest and most precious miniature icons in Italy.

  No one had ever dared to try to steal them before, but Don Antonio did not hesitate to agree to get them for his friend.

  He saw this as the opportunity he had been looking for.

  There was a certain amount of superstition surrounding these icons and their rumored healing powers influenced Chavez’s desire to have them, Parma supposed.

  It was the intimidating aura of the supernatural which kept thieves at bay, as well.

  However, what the old man feared, now, was not some mythical curse on a few religious relics.

  His fears were not for this world, but the next.

  As the chopper approached the small private airport in Naples, Parma wondered if there was anything he might do to avoid the fate he felt sure was awaiting him once he’d breathed his last.

  Who were those women? Why did I meet them on the plane and why are they thwarting my plans? Could this be a message from God? A last chance for salvation?

  Parma shook his head to rid his mind of such foolishness and braced for landing.

  Chapter 12

  My enemies turn back; they stumble and perish before you. Psalm 9:2-4

  Felice relayed Don Antonio’s instructions to the men in the plaza to keep their eyes on the women when they showed up, but to make no contact until the old man arrived.

  He wondered what his uncle was up to.

  Did he just want to be in on the interrogation or did he want to see to the disposal of these meddling women personally?

  Felice had been looking forward to performing that little task himself after all the distress those streghe had caused. But, as long as he could at least watch the witches get what was coming to them, he would have to be satisfied.

  Since his uncle had arrived in Italy, Felice had been concerned about the old man’s health.

  He had seen week-old corpses which looked more vigorous than his uncle did these days. Paola had even wondered if the old man had come home to Bologna to be buried in the family plot.

  He must be feeling better today, though, since he was on his way to Napoli.

  Felice was fond of his uncle, but couldn’t help wishing that Paola might be right.

  Once Antonio was out of the way, it would be Don Felice Parma who held the control, not only in southern Italy, but within the New York organization, as well.

  He was eager to show Paola around that great American city from a position of power.

  

  “Goodness gracious, Max Banks! Whatever are you doing here in Italy of all places?” Taffy barked.

  “Bunny, did you know this man was going to be up here? Is this why you were so determined to come? What’s going on?”

  Taffy crossed her arms under her prodigious b
osom and posed like a school teacher, tapping one foot, waiting for Max and Bunny to disentangle from one another and explain themselves.

  Bunny tried to catch her breath and regain her composure.

  The shock of finding herself so unexpectedly in the arms of the man she loved had completely disoriented her.

  Her mind was swimming.

  Incapable of forming a single coherent thought, Bunny just stood there, silently enjoying the sensation of Max’s protective arms around her waist.

  “Howdy there, Linda, how the heck are you’all doin’ these days? I almost couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw you two getting into a cab outside Da Ettore. What brings you’all to Naples?”

  Max spoke with casual Texas aplomb, as though running into them were nothing out of the ordinary.

  His calm demeanor deflated Taffy, somewhat, and restored Bunny’s composure, or at least her power of speech.

  “Max, this is such a surprise. I had no idea you were in Naples, too. You look wonderful. Are you fully recovered from your injuries?”

  When a frown briefly darkened Bank’s face, Bunny was immediately sorry to have brought up those unhappy memories. Why do I always say just the wrong thing?

  “Yes, I am fully recovered, Bunny. Thanks for asking. Although I might have expected you to be a bit more concerned at the time, while I was right there in the local hospital, rather than waiting for a chance encounter halfway around the world.”

  Max couldn’t keep the resentment from creeping into his voice.

  This was a question he had wanted to ask Bunny since the day his pain meds were cut back and he was finally thinking clearly.

  Why hadn’t Bunny come to see him? She had declared her undying love only days before.

  When she chose to cling to the prudish rules of her imaginary friend in the sky, could she have been able to just switch those feelings off, if she had ever really cared?

  “But, Max, I did see you at the hospital. I wouldn’t leave until you regained consciousness and they let me visit you. Don’t you remember?”