The Orsinni Contracts

by Bill Cariad

  “Maria, it is no mistress who has been preparing the way to make everything yours when I’ve gone. I have been steadily liquidating my various business interests for some time now. As you know, I have no son who could have perhaps chosen to take over what I have created over the years. And ever since I became aware of the way by which you intend to use your life, I realized that a fortune in cash would predominantly be of more use to you than a business portfolio. You can build your own investment portfolio, and still have more than enough ready funds to do whatever you want whenever you need to.”

  Stunned by his words, Maria could only continue to watch in silence as he leant forward and added to them with a smile.

  “Whilst I remain on this earth, you will continue to enrich my life for as long as you stay here at the villa which is now our home together. But I am in the winter of my years, and you are still enjoying the spring of yours. One day, and who knows when that day may come, we will be irrevocably parted, my child. But when Claudio Canizzaro is no more, Maria Orsinni will live on through all the countless seasons left to her as an extremely wealthy woman.”

  Maria remained silent as her thoughts raced, and she saw Canizzaro’s smile change as he calmly continued speaking.

  “So you see now, Maria, that you have a vested interest in finding a way to overcome your own argument about going alone to see Giacommo Rosso at the Via Veneto offices.”

  Unable to contain herself any longer in the chair, Maria rose to her feet. She could feel the moisture in her eyes as she walked round the desk to stand beside her uncle.

  “Even the thought of losing you is painful enough,” she told him, “Why do you speak of death? Are you ill? Is there something I should know about your health?”

  “My dear child, I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted you to know that you are not wasting your time by taking an interest in my affairs. My doctors say I’m good for a few years yet,” he added, “so dry your lovely eyes and let me see that smile of yours.”

  Maria’s smile was one of relief at hearing his declaration of good health. She looked at the man who had so quickly become an important part of her new life, and who had now revealed the astonishing steps he had taken towards financially securing her future without him. She bent down and hugged him, then stood back to admonish him, “I’m not here for your money. You don’t have to promise me money to make me live here.”

  “I know that,” he replied, “but I would prefer that you, rather than the taxman, benefit from it now and when I am gone. You cannot be sure how long it will take for you to properly build your new life. One day, your skills will be for hire and you will have an income stream. Meanwhile there are training and tutorial fees to pay, which are now being met by the money which is ours whilst I live, and yours when I die. So please accept your good fortune with good grace.”

  Maria was struggling internally to come to terms with this new revelation. The thought of never having to worry about money, of being able to live her life in the way she wanted to without financial restraints, was overpowering. A fresh thought came to her, and she voiced it with a frown, “Does my father know of your intention to make me an heiress?”

  “No, he does not. But Giovanni spoke to me recently about making his own will. He told me that you had forbidden him to leave you any money. You apparently told him to give it to Paolo.”

  “And so that prompted you to...,” began Maria, but was interrupted.

  “Maria, my will was drawn up long before that conversation with my brother. You may not be the son I would have wished for, but you are certainly close to that wish. You are also your mother’s daughter, and, should I meet her again in heaven, I want to tell her that I have made it possible for you to have the kind of strength which comes from financial independence.” He smiled at her with the addition, “You can add it to all your many other strengths and become virtually invincible.”

  Maria bent down and hugged him again. “I just don’t know what to say,” she told him.

  “Say thank you to your old uncle,” he replied, “and then tell him you will represent him this afternoon at the LUP company offices.”

  Maria realized that she had little choice other than to agree to his wish. Given everything he had just said, to refuse would be unthinkable. Tanaka had once memorably said ‘We are all hostages to fortune’, and she thought now that he would have been amused at her capture by this variation on the theme. She hid these thoughts with a smile, and bent down to give her uncle another hug. “Thank you, old uncle of mine, and of course I will represent you.”

  “It pleases me,” he responded, “to hear you say that.”

  “So you think,” she said, “I shouldn’t be concerned about ruffling feathers older than mine.”

  Maria watched Canizzaro pause for thought, and then he gave his answer.

  “I think that you should look on this as part of your training. Practically all of the people you will encounter in the kind of life you are preparing yourself for, will be older than you. But that doesn’t make them better than you. It just makes them more experienced in whatever it is they do. Whether that be something good or bad, or something legal or illegal, will always be the thing you must judge for yourself. But you need to start confronting people of whatever age, in places other than your martial arts dojo. How else can you learn to read people?”

  Listening to him, Maria silently acknowledged the good sense conveyed by his words. She was now beginning to think that he had engineered this entire conversation in order to drive home the points he had just made.

  “I think,” she said behind a smile, “that you are a wise old uncle.”

  “Wisdom comes with age, my child,” he replied, “so may you grow to become very wise.”

  Maria thought for a moment as she gazed at her uncle. “What exactly is worrying you about Giacommo Rosso?” she asked.

  Canizzaro sighed with his reply, “I think he may have discovered my intention to sell the LUP company to the Vatican, and foresees the likelihood of more scrutiny when they take over.”

  “Why should scrutiny concern him?” she asked.

  “I don’t know if it does,” he said, “but I worry about why it might.”

  Maria thought for another moment, an idea already forming in her head, then smiled across the desk as she spoke, “I have two conditions,” she told him briskly, “Firstly, call Rosso and rearrange the appointment. Make it for the same time tomorrow, and let him believe that you are still attending. Secondly, meet me half-way on how I should present myself to your people. In addition to your document of authority, give me a short letter which simply introduces me as your niece and asks them to show me around as a courtesy. I may not need to use both.”

  Canizzaro regarded her silently for a moment, then nodded acquiescence to her requests. He smiled with his final words, “I won’t ask you to explain your reasons, I’m sure they are perfectly sound ones. I also feel sure there will be many others in the life ahead of you Maria, but why not look on this as your first solo assignment.”

  1 Good morning, Captain

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Incoming and Outgoing

  Carabiniere Headquarters, Sergio Sabbatini’s Office, 10-30am, Wednesday 26th June 1985

  Upon being told of the reason behind the urgent request, senior Alitalia airline officials had been completely co-operative regarding arrangements for the incoming Antonio Crocci and his welcoming party. It was understood by all concerned that, on the ground, everything would have to move quickly and smoothly. Thirty thousand feet above the ground, the plane’s pilot had been contacted and fully briefed on the status and intended fate of one of his passengers seated in first class for another two hours.

  Sergio had just dispatched two of his team to the airport in order to ensure nothing would go wrong before he and Zola joined them. He w
as about to confer with his sergeant when one of the telephones on his desk rang for attention. It had the number he only gave to selected friends from his private life, the one which rarely sounded these days. Pressure of work had rendered his private life virtually non-existent.

  “Sabbatini speaking.”

  “Buon Giorno, Signore policeman.”

  “Buon Giorno, Signorina, this is a surprise,” he responded, motioning for Zola to remain in the office as he returned Maria Orsinni’s greeting.

  “Can I speak to your sergeant?” came the question without further preamble.

  “Of course you can,” replied Sergio, even more surprised now, “he’s with me now, one moment.” He passed the phone to his sergeant, “Maria Orsinni would like a word with you, it seems,” he told the also now surprised looking man.

  Zola’s surprised look was switched for a mischievous grin as he spoke into the phone.

  “Buon Giorno, this is Zola, but I asked you not to call me at work. It could be misunderstood by my capitano, who is a man with a very suspicious nature.”

  Sergio smiled at the sound of Maria’s laughter coming through the phone being held by his grinning sergeant, then the laughter stopped and he watched Zola’s face take on a serious expression as the man listened to their caller.

  “Yes, I know the company,” said Zola, “my father competes with them all the time for prime development plots.”

  Sergio wondered what Maria was up to as his sergeant fell silent to listen again.

  “There are several methods,” said Zola. “My father has told me of some of the more relatively simple ones.”

  Sergio watched Zola listen again, and then saw him smile as he spoke.

  “You will have to ask my capitano, but if he says yes, then I will be happy to help.”

  Sergio took the proffered phone from a thoughtful looking Zola.

  “What am I required to say yes to?” he asked.

  “Can I borrow your sergeant for an hour this afternoon?” was the question posed without any verbal foreplay.

  Sergio glanced up at Zola, who was still looking thoughtful.

  “From three till four should be enough,” Maria enigmatically continued.

  Sergio did some rapid calculation in his head, arriving at the conclusion that everything would be wrapped up at the airport by two, then let her hear his irritation. “This is not a public lending library, Maria. What am I to tell my superiors if they discover that the daughter of Giovanni Orsinni thinks she only has to telephone Sabbatini in order to borrow a carabiniere sergeant as if he were a book on a shelf?”

  “Your superiors could never discover what I think, Sergio, and unless your phone is bugged they needn’t know anything about this,” she replied, seemingly unmoved by irritation.

  “You could be seen together,” retorted Sergio, imagining Kovac’s reaction to such a sighting.

  “I can absolutely guarantee we will not be seen together,” she answered calmly.

  “What do you need him for?” he asked, wondering how she could guarantee such a thing.

  “I need an escort,” replied Maria, “with knowledge of a particular subject. I’m sure Zola will tell you the subject matter we’ve just been talking about, so can I borrow him or not?”

  Sergio rapidly decided to accede to the request, telling himself that sustaining the link to Giovanni Orsinni was sufficient reason to do so. “You may borrow my sergeant,” he told her, “but I want him returned undamaged.”

  “He will be,” she replied. “When he tells you what I’ve said, you will see that you have nothing to be concerned about. Who knows,” she added, “you and your special squad may even benefit from this. Arrividerci, Sergio.”

  Sergio tried to conceal his feelings as he re-cradled the phone whilst struggling with his thoughts. It had been one week since they had made love. One week since they had been as close as you could get, and yet he hadn’t heard from her since. Now she calls him, not to whisper endearments, not to talk about seeing him again, but to borrow his sergeant without even saying please, or offering a proper explanation. That he himself hadn’t called her because he had been so busy, was the thought he brushed aside as he began grilling Zola.

  “So what did she say to you?”

  “When she sat in the back of my car,” began Zola, “holding that suitcase packed with explosives, she calmly questioned me about my life before I joined the carabiniere. She has remembered my telling her that my father has his own construction business.”

  Sergio realized that his sergeant was enjoying making him wait for what he wanted to hear. “Gianfranco, get to the point please.”

  “The offices of a company called LUP,” said Zola, “are on the Via Veneto. They deal in....”

  “I know what they are,” interjected Sergio, “why should Maria Orsinni be interested in LUP?”

  “She has asked me to meet her there at three this afternoon.”

  “Did she say why?”

  “Apparently Canizzaro is the money man behind LUP. Maria was quizzing me about ways to defraud such a company.”

  “So Canizzaro suspects he is being defrauded?” responded Sergio.

  “She didn’t say that, but I think Maria suspects that might be happening.”

  Sergio stared across the desk at his sergeant, suddenly doubting the wisdom of his decision. “I can’t believe I’ve agreed to this,” he confessed, “You will be seen together and I will have to provide Kovac with a rational explanation.”

  “I have a definite feeling,” said Zola, “that no one is going to see me with Maria Orsinni.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “She told me,” replied Zola, “I would be met outside the LUP offices, but not by Maria Orsinni.”

  An explanation which merely left Sergio feeling more frustrated, and puzzled.

  Canizzaro’s Villa, 10-40am, Wednesday 26th June 1985

  With her feelings perversely split between satisfaction and frustration, Maria re-cradled the phone with Sergio’s voice echoing in her mind. She had got what she wanted from him, again, and he had been politeness personified, again, but she had been careful not to say anything which could have led to her agreeing to see him for another sexual encounter. The temptation to do so had been powerful, as strong as the memory of all the things they had done together in his bed, but she was reminding herself now that she had resisted that temptation with good reason.

  Whilst her introduction to lovemaking had been both physically and mentally liberating, she instinctively felt that to repeat the experience with Sergio would be a mistake. It had been a calculated move on her part to make her first time happen with the carabiniere officer. A man whom she had known would be unable to risk damaging his career by making public the fact that he had bedded the daughter of a senior Mafia figure. Maria sighed as her thoughts ran on. She couldn’t deny to herself that she had genuine feelings for Sergio, but had no regrets about having used the man. His physical need had been as great as her own, but she had also sensed his own awareness of their unspoken acknowledgement of a shared understanding. Given his professional occupation, and her own background and likely future lifestyle, it would be impossible to turn a sexual encounter into a loving and lasting relationship without one of them making a sacrifice which neither of them was capable of making.

  Maria sighed again as she closed down her thoughts on Sergio Sabbatini and went in search of Graziella. She found her in the kitchen, busy preparing meals for the day. “Graziella, I need your help later,” she told the woman, smiling as she spoke.

  “What kind of help?” asked the woman with a frown.

  Maria explained what she wanted, and the woman’s face registered the surprise.

  “Well, that will certainly make a change worth seeing,” responded Graziella with a smile.


  Carabiniere Headquarters, 11-30am Wednesday, 26th June 1985

  The telephone call from London’s New Scotland Yard was immediately patched through to the desk of the officer commanding the carabiniere special task force tackling organised crime. Sergio Sabbatini was just about to leave for the airport, but, picking up the phone whilst telling Zola to make his way to the car, he heard the voice of his brother-in-law in his ear before he could say anything else.

  “Have they made you a General yet?”

  “I’m going straight to Brigadier,” riposted Sergio, “It’s good to hear your voice but why am I hearing it at five thirty in the morning, London time. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, Sergio. I’m leading an early morning surprise visit to one of London’s seriously bad guys, so I don’t have much time. Have you still got that fax machine in your apartment?”

  “Yes,” confirmed Sergio, his curiosity instantly aroused.

  “I’m faxing you some material I want you to see before we talk about it.”

  “What kind of material?”

  “Shrivenham kind of material. Will you be home alone around ten this evening, your time?”

  “I’ll be home, and I’ll be alone. Thank you for making me say that.”

  “It’s good that you should be saving your strength. I’ll call you then. Arrividerci, Sergio.”

  “Arrividerci,” responded Sergio, but his caller had already cleared the line. Sergio frowned at the dead phone in his hand. Today was certainly proving to be his day for surprise callers. The sound of the Shrivenham place-name had been instantly unsettling. He now had a head filled with questions. Which would have to wait for answers, he resignedly told himself as he re-cradled the phone and rushed to catch up with his sergeant.

  Leonardo da Vinci Airport, 12-40pm Wednesday, 26th June 1985