“Hadn’t what?” Umbrello asked, entering the kitchen with Loffredo. Seeing Rosa and Serafina, he said, “I’ve sent two manservants to fetch Lina’s brother. Starting tonight, they change the locks.”
Rosa grabbed his arm and smiled. She told both men what had happened.
The sight of Loffredo calmed Serafina. They sat Mima down at her desk while the maids went about the business of clearing up.
“Oh, thank you. So kind. Hand me my tea, won’t you, and I’m sure I’ll remember where della Trabia was taking her in a minute. No time to drink before now.”
Bending to the woman, Loffredo took the cold cup and saucer and was about to place it in front of Mima when he stopped. Alarmed, he looked at Serafina and shook his head, then put the cup underneath his nose and sharply reared back his head. He motioned to Serafina to follow him into the scullery while Rosa and Umbrello stayed with Mima, trying to calm her.
“He’s getting you a fresh cup,” Serafina heard Umbrello explain, then asked Mima if she remembered where it was that della Trabia was taking Renata.
“We’ll find Renata, don’t worry, but the cook’s tea has been laced with something,” Loffredo said when they were out of earshot. “Not whiskey. A toxic substance, I believe. I want to take the liquid back to my office tomorrow to test it. Umbrello and I will find a container for this if you send him over here. You continue with Mima.”
Serafina stood there a brief moment before walking back to Rosa and the cook. No sooner had she asked Umbrello to help Loffredo in the scullery when the footman entered, demanding that Umbrello fetch a bottle of port from the wine cellar for the baron and his son while, around them, the clearing up continued, maids walking to and fro carrying dirty dishes into the scullery.
Rapid movement surrounded her, and the color of objects seem to take on a jarring hue, but Serafina told herself she must keep her composure if they were going to find Renata. She walked back to Mima and patted her on the shoulder. “Tell me again who Renata left with.”
“Della Trabia.”
Serafina’s heart skipped a beat. “And this was what time?”
“Just about to serve. Renata was doing something with the pastry. I don’t know what happened to it.” The woman looked around vaguely.
“That’s why we had no dessert,” Rosa said, pursing her lips and looking at Serafina.
“What did he say to her?”
Mima looked at Serafina without seeing her. “Sorry, no time until now. But the …” She shook her head.
Serafina waited, about to explode.
“Something about the view,” the cook blurted out. “Yes, the view will be lovely. A million stars.”
In her haste to tell Loffredo and Umbrello, Serafina lurched into the scullery, skidding on a piece of food that had fallen on the floor, and slid into the room, righting herself by grabbing onto him as he and Umbrello were standing over the sink.
“Renata’s gone with della Trabia to Solunto, I’m sure of it. Got to find them.” She put a hand to her chest and tried to slow her breathing. Her curls squeezed her scalp.
He calmed her with his smile while he stoppered a bottle, wrapped it in a towel, and stuck it into a pocket of his frock coat. He stroked her arm and looked into her eyes. “We’ll find her. I promise.”
Solunto in Moonlight
“We’ll take my carriage.”
“A smaller vehicle would be better. Steep climb from here and rocky. Treacherous in the dark. Must be armed,” Umbrello explained. “The women can ride most of the way in the baron’s barouche. We’ll follow with mules.”
Outside, they met Lina shaking out the table linens.
“See to cook, won’t you?” Serafina asked. “Someone should be with her. Poor woman’s a mess.”
As they walked to the carriage house and stable, they met Arcangelo. “I found something—” he began.
“Later. Come with us. You’ll need to be armed.”
The stars peppered the heavens as the group set out, Rosa and Serafina in the barouche driven by the baron’s driver, Umbrello and Loffredo riding behind them, Arcangelo following a few meters behind the two men.
As they ascended, they were silent, bumping and lurching over rocks. Above them, the light from the heavens cast deep shadows over the path through the ruins.
Serafina’s heart was in her mouth. “I shouldn’t have brought her. Left her alone too much of the time. All her life I’ve neglected her, taken her for granted. One of my great sins. Affairs are nothing compared to the way I’ve neglected my children.”
“Nonsense. And Renata’s presence has been necessary. Her desserts are the only bright spot in this pompous wasteland. We wouldn’t have seen cook this way, no access to the kitchen. Did you see how she reached for Renata during the meeting?”
Serafina nodded, gripping the carriage’s handle. The horses picked their way over increasingly rocky terrain.
The madam was thoughtful. “So this means you admit to having an affair with Loffredo.”
Serafina did not answer. “So selfish of me. My children must never know.”
“They’re the ones who told me,” Rosa said, patting Serafina’s arm. “Just be careful. Lots of snakes in Sicily.”
They rode in silence, their coach angling more sharply as it pitched and rolled and struggled up the incline.
The driver stopped. Turning to them, he said, “’Bout as far as we can go.”
Riding up, Loffredo talked to the coachman, then came around to the carriage. “Stay here. We’ll be back shortly.”
Serafina shook her head. “We’ll ride with you.”
Loffredo dismounted, lifting her onto his mule and took the reins. Umbrello did the same with Rosa, hefting her as if she were a feather.
As they neared the top, Serafina saw shadows in the distance. “There they are!” she whispered.
Loffredo shook his head. “The ruins, I’m afraid.”
But she knew. “Ruins don’t move. That’s my daughter, I know it. I can feel it.”
They rode a few more meters, Serafina swaying as the mule clopped, holding onto its stubby mane, and heard Renata speak. “They’re close. Perhaps behind that rock. Let’s grab her!”
Loffredo held her back. Shaking his head he said, “Impossible to judge their distance by the sound of their voices. They could be several hundred meters away, on the other side of the ruins. Or they could be only a few meters from where we stand, and their sound swallowed. We were just lucky to hear them.”
Serafina heard Renata’s voice again. “Lovely up here. The view. Thousands of stars. The moon on the shimmering waves.”
Then a man’s voice. “Stay with me tonight.”
Serafina’s eyes widened. She swallowed. “She’s a child! A child. Got to stop them,” she whispered to Loffredo, clutching his arm.
“Shhh,” he said softly.
“Take me back, please,” they heard Renata say.
Serafina looked at Loffredo. “She’s not like Carmela, not at all.”
“Or like you.” He smiled. “I mean, at her age you weren’t an innocent.”
She bit her lip. “I’m such a fool. I should have taken the trouble to … but I … it never occurred to me … Where has the time gone? I didn’t have to explain anything to Carmela, she was born understanding men, so I assumed …”
Loffredo nodded. “Of course. Let’s wait a moment longer. Umbrello and I will follow them, and make sure della Trabia takes her back.”
They heard hooves on rocks behind them.
Umbrello appeared, holding a lantern and leading Rosa atop the mule. Arcangelo came into view behind them, his rifle in one hand. Loffredo made signs to silence him. Umbrello lifted Rosa off the mule and helped her climb onto a rock to wait.
“Take me back n
ow!” It was Renata’s voice, more urgent.
Serafina heard movement, the tumble of stones and small rocks, but no more voices.
Loffredo lifted Serafina off the mule and mounted it himself, flicked the reins, and the mule clopped forward a few meters. He motioned for Umbrello and Arcangelo to follow.
Moving next to Rosa, Serafina thought she heard, “No! Let go of me!”
“Renata, can you hear me?” Loffredo called, his voice ringing out.
Umbrello looked at Loffredo, and together they moved in, Arcangelo a few meters behind.
Serafina watched the two men growing smaller, heard Loffredo call out, “Renata, where are you … are you … are you?”
And then all sound was swallowed, and Rosa and Serafina stood alone in the shadows and silence, huddling together for warmth.
They tried sitting on the rock, but the cold went through them. “Should have brought a blanket.”
“This is not a picnic,” Rosa said.
“I shouldn’t have involved her, not at all. I should have realized yesterday morning looking at that … that …”
“Buccaneer?”
“Thank you. I should have realized yesterday morning when I saw her, my poor innocent girl, fascinated with that outlaw, della Trabia, that something like this was bound to happen. And I should have warned her.”
“Put it out of your mind.”
“Easy for you to say. She’s not your daughter. What if she were Tessa?”
“Ridiculous! Tessa’s a child.”
“There. You see? You’ve no imagination.”
The madam opened her mouth to speak, then closed it and frowned up at the stars, moving her lips as if praying. A minute passed. Two. “Yes,” Rosa began, choosing her words carefully, it seemed. “She is an innocent, Renata. But not the same way that the baron is, wouldn’t you say?”
“Hardly. Renata’s is an innocence born of purity while Lord Notobene suffers from a different form, an innocence born of emotional desuetude, I’d say.”
“Born of emotional disaster, I’d say, but who’s quibbling?”
“And yet, amazingly, he is successful in business.” Serafina thought for a few moments. “Perhaps he is successful because of emotional stupidity. It takes a certain kind of innocence to be successful in this world.”
“Not always. Look at me,” Rosa said.
“The heart, they think, is obsolete, gets them into trouble; so it lies fallow, becomes rusty. Not using it gives them power.” Serafina stopped a moment before speaking. “And that’s part of what the baroness perceived, not just the aristocracy’s abhorrence of trade,” Serafina said, “the heart being sucked out of her husband, his absence growing deeper as he became more involved in his business.”
“Never had it, Geraldo,” the madam said, “at least, not as long as I’ve known him.”
Serafina felt fear shaking her mind again, and her head felt like it had been ripped open. “And where are they? What’s taking so long?” She began to twist this way and that, peering into the blackness ahead.
Rosa touched Serafina’s shoulder. “I doubt if Geraldo ever felt,” Rosa said, calm, as if she were conversing at tea.
Serafina wriggled her toes, trying for warmth. “But why does it surprise me? You told me that Wednesday morning when I asked you about him. ‘He knew what he wanted, took it, departed. Imperious. Little charm.’ That’s what you said.”
They were silent for some time.
Serafina lost the thread of her mind again, bile rising in her throat. She began twisting her hands. “What’s taking them so long? Why haven’t we heard them fighting? You can’t tell me the ruins swallow all sound, not after we heard them speaking, Renata and that brute, as if they were only meters from my nose.”
The madam made no reply. When she did, she said, “And another thing I cannot fathom is how you could have given birth to such an innocent. From the time you were thirteen, you were having dalliances with everything in pants.”
“Not true! Not after I met Giorgio. Well, only once, maybe twice, and certainly not after we were married!”
“Are you sure she is your child? Doesn’t look a bit like you. But no, how stupid of me, now that I think on it, I have to admit, she’s the image of Giorgio without his bulk. Didn’t you take the time to teach her about men? You did with Carmela, that’s for sure,” the madam said.
“Careful,” Serafina said. Rosa was alluding to a difficult time in their friendship when Carmela left home and worked for a time in the madam’s establishment, a chapter best left forgotten. “Renata is interested in her cuisine and that’s all. Born with the love for it,” Serafina said.
At that moment, Serafina thought she heard something, faint sounds, yes, twigs breaking, leaves rustling, hooves on rocks. Loffredo’s outline came into view. She’d know the angle of his hat, his walk anywhere. Turning to her friend, she said, “Thank you!”
Rosa hugged her. “Here they come!” she shouted, pointing to figures darker than the surrounding inkiness. Soon Serafina saw Loffredo appear through the mist—tall, splendid, with the sure-footedness of a guardian angel—holding onto the reins of a small mule, and Renata, head bowed, riding sidesaddle. They looked like pictures Serafina had seen of the holy family. Umbrello and Arcangelo followed behind like shepherds. She couldn’t help it, she ran to meet them.
“Thank the Madonna,” Serafina said. “What happened? Why did I not hear shouting? Where’s della Trabia?”
“Later,” Loffredo said, smiling. He took her in his arms and hugged her. Together they walked back to the carriage.
On the way home, Renata sat, squeezing herself into the corner as far away as possible from Serafina. Her head was bowed, her eyes closed. Serafina touched her arm, but she pulled away.
As they neared the villa, Rosa broke the silence. Turning to Serafina, she said, “You’re the mother. Say something.”
“I hate you!” Renata broke in. “You and your … your friend or whatever he is! I wish I’d never come here. I wish I’d never been born.” She crammed herself back into her corner and turned her head away. “And don’t touch me!”
They finished the ride in silence, and when they pulled around to the carriage drive in front, Renata jumped out and ran to the front, pounding on the door. She flew past the footman who opened it and up the stairs.
“She needs time to herself,” Loffredo said, dismounting and helping Rosa and Serafina out of the barouche. “And we need to talk with Arcangelo. He’s been pestering me with questions about toxic substances the whole way home.”
After a few moments of silence, Loffredo continued. “The man’s no fool. Della Trabia turned on his charm as soon as he saw us. Claimed he never wanted to hurt Renata, just wanted to show her the view of Bagheria and Palermo from Solunto ‘All a misunderstanding,’ he kept saying. Said Renata was so taken with Solunto when you arrived yesterday morning, that he wanted to show it to her again before she left. He said she told him she’d never had the chance on her first visit. Has she been to Bagheria before this?”
Serafina nodded. “Worked for that despicable monzù earlier this year.”
“But this part I found hard to believe—he fabricated some story about rescuing you from bandits,” Loffredo said, looking down at her and cradling her in the crook of an arm. They were standing some distance away from the carriage house, waiting for Umbrello and Rosa, who went to see how Lina’s brother was getting on with fitting new locks.
“That part’s true,” Serafina said. “Or at least I think it is. Sometimes it’s all a mirage when it comes to della Trabia. I don’t know what I’m seeing. I suppose he could have arranged the whole episode, hired bandits to come down from the hills and shoot at us in Solunto. But men did shoot at us, and della Trabia rescued us, saying the baron sent him because he worried
about us.”
Loffredo scratched his chin. “He must have done, rescued you, I mean. Hard to stage.”
“After his actions tonight, he’s an enigma, but still one of our main suspects. Until this evening, I felt sure he was the mastermind…” She broke off, her head resting on his shoulder. “Unless this, too, was a diversion.” She was silent a moment, thinking. She shook her head. “It’s all a muddle. I’ve got to think, and we’ve so much to talk about.” She kissed his neck. “And I don’t feel like talking.”
He kissed her full on the mouth, and she wanted him, right then, the ruin of their reputations be damned, but with monumental effort, she controlled herself and said, “But the four of us need to go over what we’ve found and plan tomorrow, after you and I talk to Arcangelo.”
“Yes, the lad’s burning with news. He’s a talker, that one; claimed he’s found all manner of things,” Loffredo said, caressing her with his eyes.
Angel of Mercy
“I’m hungry,” Rosa announced as they walked back toward the kitchen. “Do you suppose there is some leftover dolci? Whatever happened to the box of pastry Renata brought with her?”
“Gone within minutes,” Umbrello said, smiling. “Sweets disappear fast around here. We could use a visit from Renata more often.”
“Probably not going to happen for some time,” Serafina said. “Renata’s had her fill of me and this villa, and I don’t blame her.”
“She’ll be fine by tomorrow,” Rosa said. “Children heal quickly.”
“She’s not a child.”
“In some respects you’ve kept her one,” Rosa said, narrowing her eyes.
Serafina opened her mouth but thought better of it.
“Fina’s had her hands full,” Loffredo said. “Don’t forget, Renata grew into her womanhood about the time Giorgio died and the household was in a turmoil. Serafina had to scramble to feed her family, and don’t think I didn’t realize it.”
Death In Bagheria (A Serafina Florio Mystery) Page 23