Della said, “I’m sure you never suffered as Prince Sanzio’s foster daughter. He is a good man. I’m sure he was a fine father to you.”
Irma took a few steps away and with a grimace said, “I never starved. But we were genteel poor in a city of wealth!”
“You could look forward to your marriage to Raphael,” she reminded her.
Irma gave a bitter laugh. “That meant trading a girlhood of poverty for a womanhood of the same. Raphael is as poor as my unhappy father except for his title. He is a penniless prince.”
“So both you and he threw your lot in with Barsini?” she said, at last beginning to believe the nightmare.
“We are bound to Barsini by closer ties than that,” her sister said. “We are his disciples. He is leading us into a new existence!”
“Leading you to destroy yourselves,” she said with contempt.
Irma said, “I’m not interested in your opinions of our leader. I want to hear all you know about the Madonna.”
“Nothing!”
“That is impossible!” Irma said, showing anger. “I sent Pasquale to you. He was a trusted agent.”
“Then where is he now?” Della asked, hoping she had found something on which to reason with her enemies.
Irma said, “It was part of the agreement that he was to go underground for a few months. He had some trouble with the police here in Italy. An attack on a young girl. He needed to get out of the country and lose himself. We supplied him with the means to get away in exchange for his handling the Madonna.”
Della felt despair at hearing this. So the absence of Pasquale Borgo from the scene could be this easily explained. She made another attempt to talk her way out of her plight, saying, “In my opinion he ran off to Paris with the Madonna.”
“You’re saying he stole it from us?”
“Yes.”
Irma shook her head. “He wouldn’t dare! Not with the police after him already. He would be caught between Brizzi, the law and us. He’d never escape!”
Clutching on a last straw, she said, “Brizzi! He must have taken the Madonna back to Brizzi and thrown his lot in with the original thief!”
“Brizzi is still searching for the Madonna,” Irma said. “So that rules out your last alibi. You must be reasonable. Dreadful things will happen to you if you don’t tell us where the Madonna is.”
She backed away from her. “You’re mad!”
“You are the mad one! Why do you not tell us? You do not need the money! What can the Madonna mean to you?”
Della stepped back from her angry sister who was following her across the room. She said, “No, you are the mad ones! Mad with greed! You cannot make yourselves accept that you’ve lost this treasure. That someone has been able to outsmart you!”
“No!” Irma cried, close to her.
“Yes!” Della said. “You’ve lost! Don’t you see? But you prefer to think I can give you the Madonna!”
Rage distorted Irma’s lovely face. For a moment it seemed she might strike Della. Then she relaxed a little. And in a grim voice, she said, “I wanted to help you! You are my sister! But you’re determined to destroy yourself!” With that she went to the door and asked that it be opened. The door was unlocked and she went out, leaving Della alone once more.
Chapter Eighteen
Della stood there sickened by the discovery that her sister was not only a dedicated Satanist but also part of the group who had stolen the Madonna. She now realized why her aunt had thought she’d seen Irma’s ghost moving about the midnight halls of the palace. Irma had probably returned to pursue her own plans and then vanished again before being discovered.
What made the situation so hopeless was the almost insane belief among the thieves that she had possession of the Madonna! They could not accept that their agent Pasquale Borgo had either gone underground with the treasure entrusted to him or had been somehow eliminated by still other thieves and the treasure stolen from him.
She sank down in the chair, again terrified at what might come next. She knew that Barsini was not finished with her. He would torture her until he was finally convinced she could not produce the Madonna for him.
She was lost in these grim thoughts when the lock clicked and the door opened again. This time it was a shamed-faced Raphael who came slowly into the room. As the door was closed after him he came to her side.
“Forgive me, Della,” he said.
She looked up at him in disgust. “All along you were playing Barsini’s game. You knew that Irma was in no danger.”
The handsome Prince pleaded, “I had no choice.”
She felt nothing but contempt for him. “Barsini said you were his slave!”
“It’s not quite like that,” he said. “But we were partners in getting the Madonna from Brizzi. And I can’t afford to lose my share of the treasure.”
“Your share! You are entitled to nothing! It was stolen from the Vatican by Brizzi. That is where it belongs.”
Raphael’s handsome face became hard. “Is that what you’ve been doing? Bargaining with the Vatican for its return? Have you made some deal with your good Father Walker?”
“If I had the Madonna I’d return it to them,” she said with spirit.
“We know you have it.”
“You are terribly wrong.”
“And it seems you are terribly stubborn,” Raphael said. “I don’t want to see Barsini harm you. I’m in love with you. I told you that earlier.”
She offered him a jeering smile. “In love with me or the idea of my money? I am heiress to a good fortune.”
“Which Irma will share,” he was quick to remind her. “And I’m willing to turn from her to you. That ought to prove it isn’t the money.”
“After the way you’ve deceived me I can never trust you again,” she said.
He frowned. “I want to be your friend. And I warn you Barsini is becoming impatient!”
“I don’t care,” she replied.
“You may before all this is ended,” was his grim warning. “You look as if you might faint any moment. Have some water!” He went to the desk and poured out a glass of water from a glass decanter there.
She accepted the water and drank most if it down. Her mouth had been parched and she was closer to collapse than she would ever have admitted. She handed him back the glass and said, “Thank you.”
He stood watching her carefully. “Irma is upset about your attitude. She was our link with the messenger, so in a way she feels responsible for the failure of the project.”
“I cannot help that,” she said.
“Be sensible! Tell us what happened to the Madonna and you’ll be free. Irma will return to the palace and maybe she and I will marry. I’ll be your brother-in-law. The story could have a happy ending.”
“Not the way you see it,” she said. And then without warning her head began to spin. She prayed that it was only a momentary weakness that would soon pass. But it didn’t. She groped for the arms of the chair and clasped them to support herself.
Staring up at Raphael with blurred vision, she asked in a weak voice, “What is happening? What was in that water? You’ve given me something!” She crumpled back in the chair, unconscious.
When she opened her eyes her vision was blurred for a moment and her head spun. Then the giddiness left her and she became aware of herself and her surroundings. She had drunk some drugged water that Raphael had pressed on her. In her innocence she’d taken a lot of it. Now she was on a stage before a roomful of the Satanists, seated like rows of black birds in their dark robes and cowls!
The stage was in near darkness and she was not alone on it. She was tied, entirely nude with her arms stretched out, to a kind of wooden cross. This last realization shocked her. She glanced to her left and right and saw that on both sides of her other naked girls were tied on other imitation crosses. It was a mock Crucifixion scene to titillate the Satanists!
They were known for staging anti-Christian rituals to mock the Church.
Now she was to be publicly humiliated as part of one. She struggled to free herself without any success. Then Barsini appeared at the left of the stage with a black-robed assistant holding a torch to light him.
As the torch highlighted the figure of the Satanist leader he threw off his black robe and stood naked before the assemblage. Smiling he turned and moved toward the girl on the cross nearest him. The crowd cried out in anticipation. And Barsini catered to their lust by pressing himself to the girl and engaging her in sexual movement.
Della averted her eyes from the degrading spectacle, sickened by the knowledge she would be the next to be publicly defiled by the monstrous Barsini. The excitement of the audience grew as the sexual engagement on the stage moved to a climax! She closed her eyes and as she did so a miracle happened!
She felt the cords binding her arms and ankles cut. A voice whispered in her ear, “Step back!”
She did so, moving into the shadows behind the middle cross. The crowd below was so caught up with the sexual orgy on the lighted left side of the stage they paid no attention to her escape.
There in the shadows was a naked Irma. She told her, “Your clothes are out back. I will take your place. You can make your escape before anyone knows it!”
Della had no chance to thank her sister. Irma stepped forward and leaned her nude body against the cross in the same position in which she’d been. The only difference was that Irma had not been tied there at wrists and ankles. But it was unlikely Barsini would notice this as he moved on to her to continue the orgy already underway.
She ran out back and there on a table found her clothing as Irma had promised. She quickly dressed and then put on the black robe and cowl which Irma had apparently left for her. The sounds from the stage and the company of Satanists told her the ugly spectacle was moving to its finish.
She ran out into a wide corridor and down along it in what she hoped was the right direction. As she made her way quickly, there was fear in every fibre of her being that she was to have another shock.
From an ell there sprang a black, robed figure who took her by the arm and hissed in her ear, “Come with me!”
She did not question the newcomer or ask his purpose. It was obvious to her that whoever this was had to be helping in her escape. She and her robed partner stumbled down a flight of stone steps and then out a side door of the villa into the street.
They did not hesitate in their flight until they were several streets away. Then her rescuer halted and took the cowl from his head to reveal himself as Father Walker.
She gasped as she stared at him. “You!”
“Yes!” he said grimly.
“What were you doing in that wicked place?”
“I could ask you the same question,” he said. “I knew when I talked with you earlier you were bound to make the mistaken attempt to rescue your sister.”
“She didn’t want to be rescued.”
“I knew that.”
“But she made my escape possible, just the same,” she said with a shudder. “She took my place in that ritual orgy on the stage.”
Father Walker looked grim. “I saw,” he said. “Barsini must one day pay a terrible price for destroying the souls of so many people.”
“I agree,” Della said.
“Get that thing off you,” the young priest said, and at the same time he removed his Satanist’s robe to reveal a priestly one. He took both robes and threw them in an alley.
“What now?” she asked.
“Get away from here as soon as possible,” he told her. “They may send someone after us at any moment!” He took her by the arm and guided her through the dark, deserted streets.
At last they came to a busy thoroughfare and he hailed a carriage. He saw her into it and gave the address of the Sanzio palace. Then he got into the closed carriage at her side.
He explained, “I dare not leave you until I see you safely to your door.”
“This is the second or third time you’ve come to save me,” she said. “How can I thank you?”
“No thanks needed,” he said. “It is because of the Madonna you are in all this trouble. Both the Cardinal and I feel a responsibility.”
“How did you get into that place?”
A grim smile showed on his face. “We are at least as clever as Barsini. I impersonated a member of his group. Once I donned the black robe and cowl I was safe.”
“I felt there was no one,” she said.
“I understand.”
She glanced at him. “You were right in warning me against Raphael.”
Father Walker nodded. “The fallen Prince!”
“He has sunk low,” she agreed. “I could not believe he was capable of such deceit.”
“Barsini’s influence and his own greed.”
“So he is finished,” she said sadly. “Both he and my sister.”
“At least she helped save you. If she had not released you I would have had to risk going on stage and doing it myself. And she gave us extra time by taking your place!”
“I know,” Della said. “She has much good in her yet. I think she might be saved.”
“Barsini will punish her for allowing you to get away, be certain of that.”
She shuddered. “I wish she had left with me.”
“She wanted to give you plenty of time,” he said.
“And it was Raphael who deliberately gave me that drugged water. I took it without even suspecting him. I must have been mad!”
“You had come to trust him and acted without thinking,” he said.
“What next?” she worried.
“They won’t give up,” the priest warned her.
“I know that,” she said.
“Like any criminal group, they will work out some other strategy,” he said. “At least you won’t make it easier for them by walking into their trap.”
“Depend on that.”
“And Prince Raphael can hardly show himself at the palace now that he has revealed his deceit.”
“I’m sure he won’t,” she agreed. “His only purpose was to watch me and keep me confused.”
“In this circumstance that wasn’t too difficult a task,” the young priest said grimly. “I’d advise you to return to England as soon as possible.”
“Yes. I should,” she said. Then she gave him a plaintive look. “Do you think there is any hope of rescuing Irma?”
“She wants to be with Barsini.”
“She did save me tonight. That proves she isn’t entirely lost.”
“I wouldn’t count on that,” he warned her.
“Still, I must consider,” she said. “I came to Rome to see her reinstated as a member of the family and take her back to England. Perhaps that may still be possible.”
“Dangerous thinking,” Father Walker warned.
“Don’t you believe in repentance and salvation?”
“Is your question theological or practical? In Irma’s case I think there is only a small margin of hope.”
“Then how can I return to England and leave her in the clutches of that wicked man?”
He sighed. “I suppose you must make your own decision. But remember, I may not be on hand to rescue you another time!”
“You are too good!” she said warmly.
“I have grown fond of you,” Father Walker said with a depth of emotion she had never heard in his voice before. “I do not wish to see harm come to you!” And in the manner of a good friend he kissed her on the temple.
She respected him too much to be misled by his affectionate gesture. “Thank you, Father!” she said in a low voice and squeezed his hand.
The carriage halted before the Sanzio palace and he saw her to the door. When Aunt Isobel opened it to let her in it was to the credit of that prim English lady that she showed no hint of surprise.
Della said, “This is my friend, Father Walker. He has been nice enough to see me home.”
Aunt Isobel said, “How kind of you, Father. Won’t you come in
for some refreshment?”
“Thank you, no,” the young priest said with a smile. “It has been a long and wearing evening. And I’m already overdue at the Vatican.” With that he bowed to them both and returned to the carriage.
Only as Aunt Isobel saw her inside did she ask with some surprise, “What happened to your Prince Raphael?”
“That is a long and sad story,” she replied, taking off her cloak.
“Perhaps it is just as well he is not with you,” her aunt said with a rare smile. “Go into the drawing room. There is a surprise for you!”
Della looked at her aunt and her face lit up as she raced toward the living room. When she reached it she saw Henry Clarkson standing there waiting. She ran to him and threw her arms around him.
“Henry!” she said with a sob. “I’m so happy to see you!”
“And I to see you, my dearest,” Henry said, embracing her and giving her a long, ardent kiss.
She pressed against him. “I was afraid you might not come back!”
“I was only halfway to Naples when I knew I had acted like an idiot,” Henry told her. “It was too late to return then as I had urgent affairs to attend to in Naples. But I arrived back an hour ago.”
She looked up at him. “You couldn’t have come at a better time. I need you so.”
“The business with Raphael is forgotten,” he said. “I don’t even want to hear why you were in his arms that day. It doesn’t matter, that was only for a moment, I want you with me all my life,”
“I shall be at your side, Henry, I promise,” she said tenderly.
His arm around her, he led her to the divan and as they sat down, he said, “Now I want you to tell me all that has been happening while I was away.”
“So much!” she said.
“Let me hear,” he urged her.
So she sat with him until it was very late, filling him in on all that had taken place. She ended with the events of the night and her rescue by Father Walker.
Henry was astounded in the proper British way. “What a scoundrel that Raphael has turned out to be!”
Vintage Love Page 93