Kidnapped and a Daring Escape (38 page)

    
As at the
pensione
, the taverna owner greets André with effuse
cordiality and ushers them to one of two alcoves at the back of the tavern.
She hasn’t expected that he knew the city so well and that people would
welcome him that warmly. There she thought that she would show him
Rome, and now it is the other way round, except he is showing her a
Rome she never even knew existed.

    
"
Signor
Crivelli comes from Milan," explains André, "and serves a
piccata milanese
like you have never tasted, mouth watering. Are you
game?"

    
The man beams. "With
risotto ai funghi
, your usual,
Signor
Andrea?"

    
André looks at the sisters, questioning. They both nod.

    
"And a fresh green salad?" the host suggests.

    
"Oh, yes, and a bottle of your special
Frascati bianco
, and maybe
some coppa to start with."

    
"Certainly,
Signor
Andrea." He rushes to the kitchen, which is
partially visible to the side.

    
"Why do they all call you Andrea?" she queries.

    
"They find Villier difficult. I usually end up being called ‘Vigliere’,
and André simply sounds wrong to them. So it’s Andrea. That’s in fact
what my mother wanted to call me, but my father insisted it had to be
French."

    
"André is Swiss," she explains to Gabriela, "French speaking father,
mother from the Ticino."

    
"Now I get it why you speak Italian with such an atrocious accent,"
Gabriela throws in mockingly.

    
Imitating Franco’s accent, he replies: "Would you rather that I lecture
you with aristocratic refinement for prosaic occurrences of inconsequential import?" He creases his eyebrows, fills his chest, puts forward his
chin and says: "We now must judiciously weigh the various factors that
will guide us to an aesthetically pleasing choice for the most appropriate
vintage in view of the mutually interacting elements that define the
current weather conditions, to wit, a temperature of ten point three
degrees Celsius in the shade and a chill factor of a five-knot wind from
the north, give or take a directional deviation of up to ten degrees, and
most importantly the prevailing weather conditions during the last two
weeks of the maturing grapes on the vines of the vintage in contention for
selection, which regretfully has not been certified on the bottle."

    
She explodes laughing.

    
"Bravo!" cries Gabriela.

    
"Yes, that’s only a slight exaggeration of how he sounded, even when
he spoke to me about everyday things," she chips in.

    
"Was he in fact capable of speaking about everyday things? I would
have thought that it would have been below his dignity to bother with
such trivialities."

    
"Rarely. He loved to turn everything into a lecture. And I admit that
was what attracted me initially. He captured my imagination with his
knowledge and the erudite way of presenting it."

    
The wine arrives. André pours and they clink glasses, saying: "
Cin
cin
’. He locks eyes with her and adds: "To our love."

    
"Yes, André, to our love." It’s the only thing that counts, flashes
through her mind.

    
"You two behave like two teenage lovebirds. It’s embarrassing,"
Gabriela mocks.

    
She doesn’t care. She is just happy and replies: "Jealous already,
sister."

    
Gabriela makes a face and sticks out her tongue, and then laughs. "No,
I’m actually glad that you tossed Franco aside."

    
Crivelli serves the food. Bianca has to admit that it is the best
piccata
she has ever eaten.

    
After the meal, Gabriela takes leave. "I must now go to Bocelli’s to
learn what my unreal, bored snobs of friends make of today’s events."
She winks and then kisses Bianca’s and André’s cheeks.

    
"Gabriela," he calls after her, "please, don’t disclose our lodgings to
anybody." He turns to her. "I don’t want any visitors, and right now I’m
for a siesta. Will you join me, love?"

    
"Yes, I was hoping that this would be our activity this afternoon."

    
"Right," he responds, chuckling and kisses her on the mouth.

    
A workman on the scaffolding of a nearby construction site whistles.
She waves to him.

    
Back at the
pensione
, André calls his parents, and talks for twenty
minutes to his mother. As he told her, his parents knew nothing of the
kidnapping. She is pleased that he tells them about her and that they plan
to get married as soon as possible. After hanging up, he says: "She wants
to meet you. She said we should come and visit as quickly as possible."

* * *

They watch the evening news in the lounge of the
pensione
with their
hosts, Maria and Carlo. About halfway through the bulletin, the presenter
announces: "And now some startling further development in the kidnap
saga of Bianca Pacelli. As reported in yesterday’s bulletin, Miss Pacelli
was kidnapped by criminal elements while on a study tour in Colombia
and reported to have been rescued by André Villier, a well-known Swiss
freelance journalist. Our research indicates that his articles have appeared
in most leading European journals, including the Italian press. Miss
Pacelli and Mr. Villier flew in this morning from Colombia. He fooled
the waiting reporters at Fumicino by pretending to be deaf-mute."

    
The screen replays their arrival and then the welcome at the Pacelli
mansion, commented on by the announcer, ending with showing André
burn the check. The camera zooms in as the flames eat into the number
50,000, written in elegant handwriting. The presenter continues:
"According to our reckoning, in the last three days Mr. Villier refused to
accept or donated to charity the equivalent of one hundred and twenty
thousand euros. After burning the check Mr. Villier announced that he
and Miss Pacelli were going to get married and asked for Mr. Pacelli’s
blessing."

    
The screen shows André and Bianca standing hand in hand in front of
Mr. Pacelli.

    
"
O, che carina
," cries Maria, "Bianca — may I call you Bianca — you
look like the happiest girl in the world. I get tears just watching you." She
actually wipes the edge of her eyes.

    
Bianca has to admit that André was right. Her face shone as if
illuminated by a light from inside, and she can again feel how touched
she was when he asked for her father’s blessing. She tries to banish the
ugly scene that followed, fortunately not shown on television.

    
The hosts have lost interest in the news and want to know more about
the kidnapping. André fobs them off. It is too long a story to tell.

    
"You know,
Signor
Andrea," remarks Carlo, as she and André get
ready to leave, "you are a strange man, throwing away that kind of
money."

    
"The money I accept, dear Carlo, has to feel right. That money didn’t."

    
Yes, muses Bianca, that is exactly how it was. She was first flabbergasted when he lit the check. Then seeing the hint of satisfaction in his
face as it burned, she was barely able to suppress a giggle, and when the
ashes dropped to the marble floor, she suddenly felt glad and proud that
he had done it. It proved that he wanted her, not her money.

* * *

Gabriela visits them again Sunday morning while they are having a late
breakfast. She joins them, eating a croissant and drinking a cup of coffee,
claiming that this is spiritually more uplifting than accompanying her
mother to mass. She reports on what happened at home.

    
"Papà is wild. He accuses both of you of humiliating him in front of
his friends and relatives, not to speak in front of the TV audience. Did
you watch the coverage last night? It was so beautiful to see that check
burn once more. He obviously wanted to know where you are staying. I
told him I didn’t know, that I left you after Antonio had driven away and
did not see where you went. He says he will cut you off if you don’t come
home by tonight and apologize."

    
Bianca simply shrugs, saying: "I won’t." She notices André eyeing her
pensively.

    
"My chambermaid said that after our departure there was pandemonium. Mother had one of her hysterical episodes where she threatened to
die on the spot. She only calmed down a bit after Doctor Zanni gave her
sedatives and recommended a horizontal position. Most of the guests
departed shortly afterward. Imagine, leaving all that food for the
celebration luncheon. I don’t know who’s going to eat it." She turns to
André. "What happened when you went back up to fetch Bianca’s
suitcase? You must have said something that caused a row between papà
and Franco. Apparently Franco left shortly afterward in a huff."

    
Bianca looks at him. "Tell us what you said," she begs.

    
"Franco was ranting that I assaulted him, that I was a danger to you.
So I reminded him of what he said in the Alcazar Bar about what they
should do with you once the ransom had been paid."

    
"No … you did?" She feels a sudden bout of fear.

    
"Yes, something snapped and it just burst out."

    
"But wasn’t that unwise?"

    
"Yes, I realized that a bit too late, but I assured him that the only
witness who could identify him was shot dead in front of the Cipriano."

    
"What are you two talking about?" Gabriela buts in. "Where is this
Alcazar Bar? Who got shot?"

    
"André overheard a conversation in a shady bar in Popayàn. We
believe it was between Franco and the kidnappers."

    
Gabriela looks accusingly at André. "You knew Bianca was going to
be kidnapped and didn’t prevent it?"

    
Bianca sees that André is not going to defend himself. "No, Gabriela,
at that time, André hadn’t even met me or Franco. He had no idea about
whom these two men were talking."

    
Although they agreed not to disclose their inferences about Franco
being behind the kidnapping, she now tells Gabriela in a hushed voice.

    
"Wow," exclaims the latter, "I find this hard to believe."

    
"Psst, please lower your voice," André cuts in.

    
Gabriela actually blushes and says: "Sorry … what a bastard, and then
he had the gall to show up at our house, proclaim how worried he is, and
that he would look well after you."

    
"And now, Gabriela," André cuts in once more, "you’re not to talk to
anybody about this. Not only don’t we have any proof that would hold up
in court, nor do we want to upset more people, but it is for your own
good. If you talk, and anything gets back to Franco, you are likely to be
hauled before a judge on a defamation charge that could cost your father
the five millions he did not have to spend on Bianca and which would not
have brought her home alive. And don’t count on us to back you up."
Then he adds in a more conciliatory tone: "I know it would just be the
most exciting thing to tell your friends and would lift their boredom for
a few minutes. But, please, watch out that you don’t slip."

    
Bianca sees that Gabriela’s contrariness risks getting the better of her.
Nobody has ever dared talking to her like that. So she begs: "Gabriela, I
told you these things in confidence. Please, heed André’s plea. Do it for
me if you love me."

    
Gabriela’s frame deflates. "Sorry, you’re right. You can trust me. But
it still rankles me that he should get away with it and go unpunished."

    
"He paid the kidnapper an advance of 200,000 euros and will never
recover that now. His real financial woes are only beginning," remarks
André. He creases his eyebrows and then a smile enters his face. "There
may be other ways of getting him. Didn’t you say that many of his
students fall for him? All it needs is a couple who are willing to say that
he promised them better grades if they went to bed with him. That will
get him on a sexual harassment charge. I presume that, like most
universities, his also has brought in a code of conduct for lecturers."