Kidnapped and a Daring Escape (50 page)

    
Leaving Gerola, André walks down the corridor to where he remembers Farnese’s office to be. He knocks at her door. After a few seconds,
he hears a curt ‘enter’. He goes in and stands in front of her desk. It is
like a repeat of last time. She is again leafing through some documents,
ignoring him. Then after a minute or so, she looks up. He can see all
color leaving her face, and then anger takes over.

    
"How do you dare to come to my office! Get out!" she shouts.

    
"
Buon giorno
,
dottore
. A modicum of politeness would do no harm
—"

    
"Get out," she shouts again.

    
"I will, as soon as you give me what belongs to me, namely, my
passport."

    
For a second, she is thrown. "No, we will retain that until this
investigation is completed."

    
"
Dottore
, there is no investigation. As I warned you, there is no
evidence, and that all you would do is to ruin your reputation. You now
give me back that passport … or must I go upstairs and have a quiet word
with the
Questore
?"

    
If looks could kill, he would be dead by now. She takes a file from a
drawer and throws the passport toward him. André catches it before it
slides off the desk.

    
"Thank you, although you don’t deserve thanks, but then it is not my
habit to answer a lack of civility by being equally uncouth." He turns to
leave, saying: "Have a quiet day,
dottore
."

* * *

Bianca is already waiting in the foyer of the
Questura
. She links arms
and they amble along Via delle Quattro Fontane toward Via Vittorio
Veneto.

    
"Where are we going?" she asks.

    
"To Bocelli’s. Didn’t you say Gallizio is usually there at lunch time?"

    
"So Bocelli’s isn’t below your dignity," she teases him. "Yes, he
usually is there, and so is Gabriela, I guess. She has taken a sudden fancy
for him."

    
They find Gallizio at his favorite spot on the terrace. Gabriela is
indeed sitting with him, and so is Chris Pozzi. The latter eyes André
flirtatiously.

    
"Ah, here comes the pair who rattled the
Questura
," Gallizio greets
them. "Join us. Recovered from your adventures?"

    
There is an exchange of kisses between the females and with André.

    
"Adventures? Yes that’s one way of looking at it. Ernesto, I’m here to
thank you for your help."

    
"Oh, the pleasure was all mine. It feels great to come out victorious
from a duel with
Commissario
Farnese, or should I say soon-to-be
ex-Commissario
Farnese, unless they banish her to Sicily or Reggio
Calabria, where she might even do some good."

    
"You don’t seem to be particularly enamored with the lady."

    
"That is putting it mildly. No, I hate her guts. But now we are even.
And I heard through the grapevine that you did some real damage to two
of your fellow inmates. One has a fractured skull, the other multiple
fractures to his wrist. And four of the guards have been suspended,
pending an investigation. I don’t think anybody will want to tangle with
you again."

    
André only smiles in response. "And now to business. How much do
I owe you for your services?"

    
"Nothing."

    
"Nothing?"

    
"Yes, nothing. As I said, the pleasure was all mine and even I hesitate
to charge for my own pleasure." He laughs heartily, instantly copied by
Chris.

    
"If this is so, far be it for me to spoil it. But thanks again."

    
They eat a light lunch, with Gabriela insisting on paying for all.

* * *

On their way back to the
pensione
, André suggests that over the coming
weekend they make flying visit his parents.

    
"Oh, I would love that. As I told you, I called your mother, and she
was so sweet and supportive. I think I’m going to like her."

    
"You might even get to like my father."

    
"If he is anything like you, how could I not help it?"

    
"He is not, but he has a great wit and loves to tease people. So show
a thick skin."

    
Back in their room, André first calls the Swiss Embassy in Rome to
inform them of his release, and then the Zurich number Franco called
from the Cipriano. An automatic answering system announces ‘Bank
Holstein, Zurich’, and then gives a choice of internal connections. He
disconnects. Could this be a call Franco made to verify that the 200,000-euro transfer had been made?
Commissario
Gerola would surely be keen
to find that out.

* * *

They are on an early flight to Geneva, take the train to Montreux and a
taxi to Cherneux, arriving at his parent’s small cottage shortly before
lunch. Watching son and mother embrace, Bianca’s eyes get wet. André’s
mother holds her by the shoulder and then hugs her. Bianca’s trepidation
of meeting her vanishes. She feels immediately accepted by this woman
and knows that she will love her.

    
They spend a quiet Saturday afternoon and evening, recounting how
they met, their experiences of the kidnapping and the escape, and what
just happened in Rome. His mother serves them a raclette cheese dinner
with boiled potatoes, the cheese melted in the traditional way on a slanted
wooden board placed close to the heat of an open fire. She reminisces on
André as a child. Bianca watches with amusement how he cleverly
deflects his father’s teasing. They sleep in André’s narrow bed. On
Sunday morning, all four go for a walk higher up into the hills and enjoy
the view over Lake Geneva and the snow-clad chain of mountains
beyond. His sister and her family join them for lunch. They hand out the
presents they bought in Bogotà for his sister and his mother.

    
Bianca feels accepted, at home with them. His mother makes her
promise to come and visit frequently. Sunday evening, they are back in
Rome. Monday morning is the start of the new university semester.

18

First thing Monday morning, Bianca enrolls in the final set of courses at
the university, while André takes the Cipriano phone list to
Commissario
Gerola and then goes to the Marriage Registry to pick up forms. She
meets several fellow students from the South American study tour.
Angela and Anna hug her repeatedly, while Paolo seems highly embarrassed to see her.

    
"They said on TV that you are going to marry your rescuer. Is it true?"
Angela questions.

    
"Yes, we will get married soon," replies Bianca.

    
"I thought you were engaged to
Professore
Visconti," remarks Anna.

    
"Didn’t you watch TV?" Angela asks surprised, "or read the reports
in the newspapers?"

    
"No, I never do. But why would they report on that?"

    
"Oh, it featured on the front page of Thursday’s
Il Messaggero
. Bianca
accused Visconti of having made the
denuncia
against her new
fidanzato
,
the man who rescued her from the kidnappers, and told that the
commissario
who ordered his arrest is a cousin of Visconti with whom she had
a sexual relationship two or so years ago, which means that she was
biased. And then that night the TV showed Bianca and her
fidanzato
kissing each other in front of the prison. I’m sure he was let go because
of that article."

    
"Yes, most likely," comments Bianca.

    
"You dared doing that, Bianca?" Anna exclaims, visibly awed. "But
what happened between you and
Professore
Visconti?"
 

    
"It’s too long a story. I don’t have time to tell you now, but it has to
do with the kidnapping."

    
"From the TV shots I saw of your rescuer, he is much better looking
than Visconti, and then I guess you also feel grateful to him."

    
"I don’t marry him because of that. No, I have never met a man who
is more alive than he, and we got to know each other under the most
trying circumstances."

    
"To be honest, I never could understand your infatuation with
Visconti. He isn’t even good in bed."

    
Bianca laughs. "I don’t understand it either anymore. But how do you
know he’s no good in bed?"

    
"I had a bout with him last year. He promised me a good grade." She
suddenly looks alarmed. "Bianca, you’re not mad at me, are you?"

    
"No, I couldn’t care less."

    
"But won’t it be awkward to sit in his class?" interjects Anna. "Aren’t
you afraid he’ll fail you out of spite?"

    
"It will be awkward, but probably more for him than for me. I already
had a serious confrontation with him and I think I came out on top. Then,
one never knows. He may suddenly disappear. In fact, I bank on that."

    
"Do you know something?"

    
"No, it is just that he lost face, and you know that’s the worst thing for
an aristocrat, and I have this hunch, or what André calls a premonition.
He had several during our escape and I’m certain that acting on them
saved our lives."

    
"So, when will we get to meet this hero of yours?" queries Angela.

    
"I don’t know. He’s often a bit shy," Bianca replies laughing.

    
"You must be kidding. Not from what I’ve seen on TV and in the
papers."

    
"When is the wedding?" Anna cuts in. "And what do your parents
say?"

    
"We’ll only have a civil ceremony, just with two witnesses, probably
next week. Does that also answer the question about my parents?"

    
"It does," says Angela grinning. "I guess they didn’t take kindly to
your man burning that check. You know, it was one of the most amazing
things to see that. And he did it with a smile. Look, there he comes." She
points to Viale delle Scienze.

    
Bianca turns and waves, her mind already elsewhere. "Ciao," she cries
to her friends, as she runs off to meet him. He takes her into his arms as
if they hadn’t seen each other for days, not just two hours.

    
After returning to the
pensione
, they fill in the marriage application
forms. At noon they have a luncheon appointment with Bianca’s paternal
grandmother. On the way there, they pass by the Marriage Registry to
hand in the forms.

    
Her grandmother awaits them in the garden, pruning a rose.

    
"Ah, here you are Bianca and you bring your fine
fidanzato
with you,"
the old woman exclaims, as she straightens herself stiffly and offers
André her hand. He holds on to it and smiles at her, one of those open
smiles that invite an equal response. She watches her grandmother’s face
light up and her eyes sparkle. "I’m so glad to have the opportunity to
make your acquaintance," she says.

    
"Bianca told me much about you, but she did not tell me about your
beautiful roses." He lets go of her hand and holds a nearby delicate white
flower at its base, inhaling its aroma. Bianca is curious about what he is
up to. There is this faint twinkle in his eyes.

    
"
Ville de Zurich
, isn’t it?" he says, exhaling. "My mother’s favorite
rose. It must be the first bloom of the season."

    
"Yes, it is, young man, it is. It is my favorite also. You know about
roses?" her grandmother responds enthusiastically.