Chapter
8.
Francine’s
New Interest.
The
next morning, grey clouds blocked sunlight. During Mass, it was dark inside the
cathedral. However, some dawn light peeked through enough so that Fratelli
could see the figures of his aunt Francine, Dina and Jack’s faint shadow seated
near the back. Gianni stood beside Fratelli, holding a candle as he read the
Scriptures. When Mass ended and Fratelli processed towards of the cathedral
door, he shortly glanced towards Jack, wondering why he’d sat so far away.
He
stood, folding his bishop’s miter beneath his arm, waiting for Jack to finally
appear. He suddenly pulled his friend aside and asked,
“Why didn’t you sit closer?”
“Why didn’t you sit closer?”
“I
like to observe from a distance.”
“You
seem detached. Was my homily unpleasant?”
“No,
you preached fine.”
Fratelli
didn’t ask anything else though he felt curious as to his friend’s seeming
aloofness. He granted Jack a farewell and rushed off.
Moreso,
during breakfast, Jack wasn’t there. Seeing Fratelli eating alone, Gianni
scurried in and plopped next to him. The boy grabbed a breadstick and while
munching, he watched the cardinal intently. Fratelli didn’t acknowledge him.
“Your
friend is ignoring you, isn’t he?” the boy mumbled.
“Gianni,
please mind your own affairs…”
All afternoon,
Fratelli stayed in his office, working, reading, drinking hot tea and cold
water. He drew documents for several churches throughout Lucca then began
composing a letter to Adreo. Leaning over the desk, he wondered what he could
write to console the imprisoned priest.
A
knock at the door disrupted his thoughts. He turned and saw Dina.
“Did
you have a meeting with an artist by the name of Gino Siglio?” she asked.
“Oh
yes,” Fratelli responded, tiredly rubbing his face, “I forgot. Tell him I will
be there shortly.”
Hesitant,
he put the pen down. His letter to Adreo would wait.
Coming
into the parlor, he expected to see Gino standing alone, perhaps carrying a bag
of paints or supplies, what he didn’t expect is Francine to be there with him.
“Hello
Angelo,” she said sweetly.
“Don’t
call me that,” Fratelli snapped.
“I
apologize if this has caused inconvenience, Your Eminence,” Gino then said, “Your
aunt Francine was walking the same way as I and I invited her to join me… She
really is wonderful company.”
The
cardinal arched his eyebrows wondering if they knew the same person. Francine
grinned somewhat. After she sat down, Gino addressed him:
“I
am honored to be commissioned by you, Most Reverend Lord Cardinal.”
Fratelli’s
brows arched again. That was a title he seldom heard! He tried not to cringe
from the obvious flattery.
Gino
continued, “Whatever you would like, I’ll paint it!”
“I
would like a Biblical scene…” Fratelli mused aloud, “Maybe the Holy Family:
with Mary and Joseph and the little Jesus… Do include roses like in your angel
painting- white or pink but not red. I think it will look splendid right here
in the parlor.”
“It
surely will!” Gino interjected.
Francine
smiled, standing by Gino’s side, showing a set of perfect, white teeth.
“Everything
he touches just becomes so beautiful…” she sighed.
After
agreeing on what should be done and for what price, Fratelli and Gino excused themselves
to walk in the garden. Because of blanketing clouds, summer sun didn’t blaze so
harshly upon them. The flowers stretched petals wide into the sky, grass and
bushes thrived glistening and green. Gino stopped adoring the pristine, white
roses.
“How
nicely these are kept, Your Eminence!”
Fratelli
couldn’t accept credit for the roses. Last year, Dina had hired a gardener,
much to his chagrin. Now, he seldom, if ever spent time working here. While
they walked, he noticed how greatly, Gino’s fine, colorful garb blended with
the garden blooms. He strutted boldly, almost like a peacock in resplendent
green, black and gold. Fratelli silently hoped the man’s ego didn’t compromise
his work.
They
returned inside and drank chilled wine. Francine of course, brought Gino his
glass. They whispered something Fratelli could not hear and finally Gino asked,
“Do
you mind, Your Eminence, if I take your lovely aunt out to dinner?”
“Of
course not,” Fratelli said flatly, though he suppressed a mild shudder at hearing
the words “lovely” and “aunt” right next to eachother.
In
fact, he hoped the two would leave soon.
~
~ ~
At
last, Fratelli was by himself. He crept into his office, sat and began thinking
of how he should write Adreo. He would include a blessing certainly- and goodly
hopes for his release. Soon as Fratelli touched the pen onto the paper, someone
appeared in the doorway.
“What
now?” the cardinal growled.
Ernesto
leaned against the wall and announced, “I have great news: This morning, during
our investigation, we concluded that after
the stabbing occurred, the killer pushed Diego Pollini from behind, off the
clock-tower’s third or second floor. We don’t believe Adreo could have been
exactly where we found him… if he himself had done it…so he’s been released.”
Fratelli
leapt from his chair with joy. He almost embraced Ernesto but held back.
“Oh
praise God!” Fratelli shouted.
“Now,
calm down Your Eminence,” Ernesto said, “He is still suspicious, after all we
can’t ignore the idea he might be an accomplice, however, there is no further
need to hold him at this point.”
“Where
is he?”
“He’ll
be returned here tonight.”
“Thanks
be to God!”
The
cardinal almost danced with frenzied joy. Ernesto laid a hand on his shoulder
saying, “Your Eminence…”
Fratelli
disregarded him, now running to the window and peering outside like an excited
child.
“Your
Eminence!”
Suddenly
jolted, Fratelli paused and sheepishly toyed with his ring.
“There’s
no need to yell, I’m right here.”
Ernesto
sighed. He waited a moment then continued:
“We
also can’t rule out the fact that Adreo knows several things and therefore…the
killer may come looking for him.”
“For
him?”
“Yes,
for him…”
“Oh
no!” Fratelli cried, “What are we going to do?”
“Let’s
think of something?” Ernesto replied, his voice calm and assuring.
“You
mean us- together?”
“Why
not?”
Chapter 9.
The
Stakeout.
The
parlor clock ticked monotonous as minutes dragged by. Dina brought a pot of tea
as Ernesto and Fratelli sat across from each other, thinking… quietly brooding.
Ernesto
sat up then spoke:
“I
know of a place where many people go daily, from all over Lucca. A great place
for listening- and watching.”
“And
where is that?” asked Fratelli who neatly lifted the hem of his scarlet cassock
and removed his house-slippers. Somehow, being comfortable helped him think. Ernesto
glanced at him and answered:
“The
cathedral.”
“But
Ernesto, that is the house of God!”
“It
is also the largest center of the community, like the piazza- but with more closed
spaces and whispering.”
“I
don’t like it…”
“Angelo-
Your Eminence, don’t you want to catch this murderer? He could be lurking about
waiting for the chance to get rid of Adreo- or someone else.”
“Yes,
I do wish to help. So I suppose you will bring all your officers into the
cathedral, running amuck, looking for a killer…and ruining the sacred silence.”
“No,
no, it won’t be like that,” Ernesto laughed, “This will be a stakeout: where I
will watch carefully and anonymously.”
Fratelli
now laughed, “You are the constable and the cardinal’s brother nonetheless-
hardly anonymous.”
“That’s
why I need a disguise of sorts. I’d have to be someone you would expect to be
lingering around the cathedral for long hours- maybe something clerical?”
Taken
aback, Fratelli exclaimed:
“Posing
as a clergyman? I cannot condone that!”
He
pondered to himself, eyes squinted from the effort, his forehead comically
wrinkled, then added,
“However,
I do have an old monk’s habit that might just fit you…”
Ernesto
nodded. It was perfect.
Fratelli
donned his slippers, strode upstairs, fetched the worn, white-wool habit and brought
it down. Ernesto threw the habit over his head, wrestling to straighten the
baggy cloth but it fit perfectly. Fratelli stepped back and snickered. His
brother looked rather goofy as a monk. Ernesto pulled the hood over his head,
folded his hands as in prayer and marched out of the room.
“Yes
you look very anonymous and religious,” Fratelli remarked stepping behind him.
Leisurely,
they walked outside, around the gardens and rested upon the stone fountain’s
edge. Four or so ducks flew overhead. They both sighed, breathing in fresh air.
Eventually, Fratelli spoke,
“Ernesto
shouldn’t any believable monk speak good Latin?’
“Yes,
why didn’t I think of that! Your Eminence, teach me some Latin prayers.”
Putting
a hand on his chin, Fratelli thought a minute then uttered:
“Deus in adjutorium meum intende. (1)”
“What?”
Fratelli
laughed then repeated it slower.
“I
can’t get all that,” Ernesto said, feeling muddled.
“De-us
in ad-yu-to-rium, me-um in-tende”
Lifting
a hand in the air with precision, Ernesto slowly annunciated:
“De-us in ad-yu-to-rium.. me-um in-tende…”
“Yes, that is
perfect!” Fratelli said, smiling widely.
He watched as
the ducks returned and landed softly in the fountain’s basin. They squawked
loudly and floated in circles. It seemed a waste not to enjoy this fine, summer
day.
Noticing evening
shadows lengthen, Ernesto stood.
“I should be
going now,” he said, “You will know where to find me- although don’t treat me
like Ernesto- in fact, don’t treat me like anybody…”
“I know, I
know…” Fratelli replied, waving his hand.
Ernesto
departed, walking towards the looming cathedral just as Father Adreo came into
the yard. Fratelli instantly unseated and approached him. In rapt gesture, the
priest knelt down, took Fratelli’s hand and after kissing his ring, leaned his
face against it and said, “I am so heartily sorry…I will never do anything so
foolish or suspicious again!”
“Get up Adreo,”
Fratelli whispered, shaken with sympathy, “You are safe here, safe in the
shelter of the Lord.”
~ ~ ~
Sun set behind
the hills. Within the spacious, shadowy cathedral, Father Rodrigo strolled
while Gianni trailed behind him, lighting candles against encroaching dark. They
wordlessly kneeled before the high-altar, mouthed some inaudible prayer and
then left.
Ernesto observed
them and stayed motionless until he had to scratch his nose. Suddenly two
people passed and instinctually, he crossed himself blurting out: “Deus in
ad-yu-to-rium, meum in-tende!”
He then made a
triple cross, as Catholics did before the reading of the Gospel: one cross over
his forehead, one over his mouth and another over his chest. He looked very
pious indeed. Now, he listened as voices conversed. The first, a female voice
said:
“It’s very bold,
you bringing me here.”
It was Francine.
The other, a
hearty male voice; that he recognized as Gino Siglio’s, replied, “Why do you
say so?”
“Because, if His
Eminence finds us dallying and flirting here, he will kill you!”
“Be assured, my
lady, that I’m not afraid of anything- not a thing.”
She laughed. He
lightly kissed her check, said goodnight then swiftly walked back. Ernesto
hunched over, looking as diminutive as possible. No one noticed him there at
all.
