by J. B. Hawker
With his face remaining much too close to hers, Felice harshly whispered to Bunny, “We may need the Taffy woman, for now, to calm my uncle, but you are expendable. If you do not speak freely, be assured that your ‘sister’ or the man outside will tell us what we need to know. Seeing a companion die in pain has a marvelous loosening effect on one’s tongue, you see.”
“I would tell you anything you want to hear, just so you will let us go. But you are wrong! No one sent us. We never stole anything! Why won’t you believe me?”
“You deny taking the shepherd statue from the shop of Enzio in Verona?”
“My shepherd?” Taffy squawked in surprise.
Felice whirled around.
“So, you admit it. At last we get somewhere. Now, tell me who sent you to steal the icons.”
“You keep going on about icons. We don’t know anything about any icons. Oh, wait. There were icons stolen from that church by the monastery hotel where we stayed in Venice. Are those the icons you mean? But those belonged to the church. Did you steal them from the church?”
“Oh Bunny, these men aren’t just murdering bullies, they are thieves, as well!”
Taffy was quivering with furious indignation.
“You think we are fools? Stop acting! You admit to taking the shepherd statue. Where is it and who sent you to steal the icons?”
Felice addressed Taffy, but back-handed Bunny again, as he spoke.
“Stop that!” Taffy shouted and was rewarded with her own slap from Lucca.
The blow, though not powerful, shocked her into silence.
Anthony Parma protested, weakly, and then subsided into moans.
Bunny’s head sagged to one side.
She was conscious, but had withdrawn from her surroundings.
She had known terror, and been convinced she was going to be killed, once before, but Bunny had never been struck in her whole life.
She was amazed to experience not only the expected physical pain, but a myriad of emotional responses, as well.
Along with helplessness, anger and frustration, there was an overpowering feeling of shame.
Her weakness in the face of physical assault was like an accusing finger pointing out her complete inadequacy to protect herself.
The events of this day were forcing Bunny to see herself in many new and distressing ways.
Opijnen heard the interrogation, the slaps and saw the treatment of Taffy.
So, this was the reason for all the delays!
He deduced that somehow Max and these women had stolen the icons meant for his buyer in Venezuela.
What was he to do, now?
Max had been told to stand beside the SUV again.
He couldn’t see what was happening, but he had heard the blows and Taffy’s cries.
He surmised the men were questioning the sisters roughly and he was becoming increasingly frustrated at being unable to protect them.
There must be something I can do!
He racked his brain for any helpful idea, no matter how reckless.
Seeing one of the goons talking quietly on a cell phone gave Max an idea.
All of these Italians carried cell phones. If he could get his hands on one and call the police they just might be saved, after all.
Easy-peasy. Just get a phone from an armed mobster half my age, with my hands behind my back. No problem. This would be a good time for Bunny’s imaginary friend to materialize and pull a miracle out of his halo, for sure.
Max saw the license plate on the SUV’s front bumper was slightly bent, as though the car had come up under a higher vehicle, perhaps in a minor collision, and bent the plate when backing away.
Max began a slow sidle toward the front of the vehicle.
Most of the guards were either focused on the office or trying to conquer boredom by chatting among themselves.
Banks was apparently not seen as any sort of threat since the men seldom looked his way.
Max hoped they continued to underestimate him.
So many young people simply dismissed anyone over fifty as being irrelevant.
He hoped and prayed it would work to his advantage, for once.
Reaching the center of the car’s grill, Max bent his knees slightly, bringing his duct-taped wrists into contact with the rough edge of the license plate.
He began the slow process of trying to cut through the tape while making as little obvious movement as possible.
Chapter 16
For the morning is to them even as the shadow of death; if one know them, they are in the terrors of the shadow of death. Job 24:17
Luigi stood at the reception desk of his bed and breakfast establishment.
Pulling at his moustache absently, he looked first at his register and then at the clock.
The American sisters had not returned this evening and he was beginning to worry.
Oriana always said he took too much personal interest in his lodgers.
He supposed that might be true, but he felt a guest in his home became his responsibility.
These women had been delightful visitors, especially the dark haired one, and they were checking out tomorrow to catch an early flight back to their home in the American west.
He had expected them to return in time to pack and have an early bedtime, as was usual with such tourists.
It was getting quite late, but still no sign of them.
Oriana came out of the apartment.
“Luigi, come inside. It is time for your workday to end.”
“But, the American ladies have not yet returned, Cara. They should be back by now. It is their last night. Tomorrow they fly.”
“So, they are having one last Italian adventure. They will have headache in the morning and many memories to share. It is not your concern. Come inside.”
“Enough!” Felice barked. “Tell me now! Where is the statue?”
Bunny lifted her head and pleaded through swollen lips.
“Please, stop…Taffy, it’s still in your purse, isn’t it? Just give him that silly knickknack, so we can get out of here.”
“These ‘gentlemen’ took my bag, Bunny, I don’t have it.”
“Portami la borsa, Lucca. I am beginning to tire of this game.”
The office door opened suddenly and Max froze.
Had they noticed what he was up to?
Lucca came out and looked in the back of the car without even glancing at Max.
He returned to the office carrying Taffy’s large handbag.
Felice looked into the capacious and crowded bag, rummaged through the detritus it contained, and then thrust it impatiently at Taffy.
“The statue. Now.”
Taffy began to shift the tissues, brochures, schedules, her makeup clutch and change purse, then frantically pulled various items out of the bag, eventually up-ending it onto the floor.
The shepherd boy was not there.
“What is this? More tricks!”
Felice advanced toward Taffy with his hands clenched.
“Wait, I remember now! We are leaving tomorrow, so I got a head start on packing this morning by taking a few things out of my purse and tucking them into my suitcase. I put the statue into the shoe compartment, next to my slippers, all safe and sound. That’s where it is!”
“What hotel?”
“La Attico Bed & Breakfast, near the train station in the old town,” Taffy replied quickly.
“Lucca, send some men to retrieve these women’s things.”
“You, Taffy-witch, give Lucca your key.”
“We don’t have the key. Our host keeps it for us when we go out, and then gives it back when we return. I think that’s a charming old-fashioned custom, don’t you? And you don’t need to call us names, you know.”
Lucca spoke up then, “I know that B&B. The owner is security mad. He will never allow one of the men into the area of the guest rooms.”
“Then take the w
itch with you. Stay with her, so she can’t pull any tricks! I will keep her ‘sister’ here to assure her cooperation.”
“What about Mr. Parma? If I leave he may become agitated, again.”
“Look at my uncle. Does it look to you as though he is likely to become agitated?”
Taffy and Bunny both turned their attention on the old man.
It only took one look to realize, while they were talking, Anthony Parma had departed the earthly shell on the couch.
Their one hope of compassion was no longer capable of influencing his nephew’s treatment of them.
Taffy and Lucca came out of the office and approached the SUV.
Max had sawn almost completely through the tape on his wrists.
He straightened up, keeping his back to the pair.
Lucca barked for Max to stand away from the vehicle while he pushed Taffy into the backseat.
He called to one of his men to join her and keep her under control, then climbed into the driver’s seat and began backing toward the doors.
The men standing guard jumped to let the car glide through.
They were being separated! Max had never expected anything like this. Where was that man taking Linda, or Lollipop, or whatever the frack she wanted to call herself?
And what was happening to Bunny?
Max was shuffling toward the office when the door opened again and two men emerged carrying a draped figure between them.
The doctor followed behind, then scurried ahead to open the back door of his large car for the men to deposit their burden on the seat.
Omigawd! Is that Bunny? Please, God, no!
Max felt short of breath and his knees threatened to buckle.
The two mafia pallbearers returned to the office and the doctor got into his car.
Once again, the warehouse doors were pushed wide and the car and its passengers disappeared through the opening.
Max slid down against the wall, leaned his head back and tried to control his breathing and gather his thoughts.
Two cars had now left the warehouse.
Tenny knew several men remained inside the office, although the old man had been carried away.
He couldn’t know how many were still in the outer warehouse.
So far, he hadn’t seen any of the objects he had been sent here to claim. He heard Lucca and the woman were going to get a statue, but that was not on his list.
Where was his shipment being kept?
He had to find out if he had any chance to salvage this assignment and get out of Italy in one piece.
Opijnen felt compelled to return to his initial spying location and get another look into the warehouse to see if there were any places likely to contain his packages.
Retracing his path back to the first window, he scanned the interior of the warehouse once more.
He could see in more detail as it was now dark out and someone had turned on the overhead lights inside.
There was a row of cabinets on the far side of the building suitable for storing the stolen art, and several containers of various sizes strewn around.
Even if he could get inside undetected, how would he search them all without being noticed?
It seemed hopeless.
Tenny realized he had gotten himself into more trouble than he’d bargained for.
With the cars gone he had a clear view to the office.
There was a man slumped up against the wall beside the door. This man pushed himself wearily to his feet and Tenny recognized Max.
Max was on the inside, already.
If he could get a message to him, perhaps Banks would be willing to throw in with him, again, and help get the art back to the ship in exchange for Tenny setting him free.
They could deal with Max’s betrayal when they were safely out to sea.
Tenny might be able to pick up another crew member in the Canary’s.
If so, his disloyal former friend just might have a nasty accident and slip overboard in mid-Atlantic.
How to get a message to Banks? And what message? Should he admit to knowing Max and his accomplices had tried to scuttle him, or play innocent?
Oh, hell, I’ll figure out how to get him a message first and worry about what to say later.
Chapter 17
He rescues people and sets them free by working great miracles. Daniel 6:27
Lucca shoved Taffy in front of him as they entered the reception area at L’Attico.
The hand in his jacket pocket caressed an ugly looking handgun he had displayed for Taffy before letting her out of the car.
There was no one in the reception area.
Taffy supposed it was after Luigi’s usual working hours.
She looked around, not knowing what she was supposed to do.
“Ring the bell, idiota!” Lucca hissed into her ear, making Taffy jump before obediently stepping up to the desk and tapping the little call bell sitting there.
Luigi appeared so quickly, he must have been listening for the bell.
“Ah signora Taffy! At last you return. Have you had a good final day in Italia?” he spoke with a raised eyebrow, looking askance at Lucca.
“May I help you signor? Do you wish a room?”
Lucca nudged Taffy with the gun, making her flinch.
She spoke quickly, blushing in spite of herself, as she said, “Ah, he is with me, signor Baccigaluppi. May I have my key please?”
“Certainly, signora, certainly.”
Luigi frowned deeply as he handed over the key to her room.
“And your sister? Will she be requiring her key, later?”
Taffy gulped and groped for a suitable response.
“I think not. She ran into an old friend at the Royal Palace roof garden this afternoon. I believe she is staying with him, near the private airport, in a big warehouse…”
Lucca turned her around and pushed her to the elevator before she could continue. He grabbed a coin and they entered the lift.
Taffy called a last, “Thank you, for all your help, Signor. Bona notte!” as the elevator doors closed.
“That was foolish, witch! You will pay for your bravado when Don Parma is through with you.”
“But Mr. Parma is dead,” Taffy commented sadly.
“The new don, Felice Parma, is very much alive. And you will see how he deals with brazen witches.”
“Oriana! Call the polizia! Oriana!”
“What is the matter, Luigi? What has happened?”
“Signora Taffy has returned without her sister. She was with il mafioso, one of the bold ones who came here questioning me, remember? I recognized his ugly, pockmarked face. Something is terribly wrong. We must tell the polizia, now.”
Opijnen had a plan. Not a good one, but the best he could come up with.
There was a window near the corner of the warehouse, within about ten yards of the spot where Max stood.
Tenny was even now using the diamond from his pinky ring to try to scratch a hole in the pane of glass.
He had only seen it done in films, so he wasn’t too sure of his technique. It was taking much longer than he’d hoped.
While waiting for Lucca to return, Felice was passing the time by continuing to try to find out who was behind the women’s actions.
He had not decided whether the man outside was their contact, their leader, or an innocent dupe.
If he was not involved, it was his bad luck. He would have to die, anyway.
Bunny’s face was beginning to bruise around her eyes and jaw. Her left eye was swollen shut and there was blood on her chin from her split lower lip. She was grateful that none of her teeth seemed to be loose.
So far, Felice had been kind to her and not used his fists.
She would tell him anything he wanted to know if it would make him stop hurting her. She would even lie, if only she could think of something he might believe. She couldn’t think, though. She
could only feel.
“You are beginning to bore me. My hand tires and my patience is at its end. As I said before, you are expendable. We still have the other one. I think perhaps I will kill you when she returns, if you have not told me what I want to know.”
Felice’s matter of fact tone was more frightening than his earlier shouts and threats.
“Please Mr. Parma,” Bunny quavered, “I can’t tell you what you want to hear. My sister and I did not mean to steal anything. If the statue belongs to you, take it. We know nothing about any icons,” Bunny spoke rapidly, and then cringed away from the expected blows.
Just then, one of Parma’s men stepped into the office, temporarily forestalling further abuse.
“Scusi, Capo. There is a man trying to break into the warehouse.”
“What? More foolishness! Bring him to me.”
It was a matter of mere moments before a frightened, scraped and dirty Tenny Opijnen was dragged into the office and thrown onto the floor at Parma’s feet.
Parma turned to Bunny triumphantly.
“So this is why you have kept silent. You were expecting to be rescued. Hah! By this? How pitiful.”
“But, I don’t even know this man. I’ve never seen him before,” Bunny protested.
Parma merely scoffed, unbelieving.
“It’s true, sir. I am not with this woman. I was told to come here by your men. I am Opijnen, here to pick up the cargo for Venezuela.”
Tenny felt his only chance was to tell the truth and hope for the best.
“And were you told to break into the warehouse, too? Just who gave you such unusual instructions, eh?”
“My directions were to meet Lucca and Roberto here earlier today. But when I arrived, there was a lot of commotion and I was unsure what to do. When I called Roberto’s phone, there was no answer.”
“No. There would be no answer. Your conspirators threw poor Roberto off the roof of the Royal Palace this afternoon. He did not survive the fall.”