The Forty Column Castle (18 page)

“Dear me.” She shook her head, moved to the sofa and sat down. “I thought I had mentioned
him to you.” She patted the seat beside her, and I dutifully sat.

“Let me get this straight,” I said. “You’re having a fine time, Mr. Bellomo is taking
care of everything, and you are engaged to be married. Is that an accurate summary
of what is going on here?”

She pursed her lips and scrunched her nose in a funny little way she had. “Yes, I
think that covers it. His home is quite comfortable. This is my suite. He has his
own, of course. This is all on the up and up. I told him no hanky-pank until after
the wedding. It will be a small one, I think. He’d like us to be married in Sicily.
I haven’t met his family yet. Of course, I want you to meet him. But,” she looked
me over, “that outfit will never do.”

I stared at her. Was this my Aunt Elizabeth? She sounded like Cleopatra surveying
the empire. This from the person who lived in a tiny apartment surrounded by people
she had known her entire life. She was going to marry a foreigner and live in Sicily?
And hanky-pank? At her age? I was impressed. Would that I were still interested in
hanky-pank when I reached her age. I was speechless.

She sipped her drink like it was the most normal thing in the world to be discussing
getting married to a multimillionaire, maybe billionaire, wine merchant. She, who
had never been married a day in her life.

“Would you like to go out on the balcony, dear? The view is spectacular. I guess you
already know since you came in that way. However did you get on my balcony?”

“From the roof.”

She raised her eyebrows, something she used to do when I was a teenager, indicating
I was going a bit too far.

I blew out a breath and leaned my head against the back of the couch. Exhaustion was
getting harder to keep at bay. I knew if I closed my eyes I might drift off. Where
to start and what to tell her? Maybe partial truth. Nope, couldn’t even do that. I
gnawed on my lip.

The image of Zach being helped into the palace popped into my thoughts. I couldn’t
imagine what had happened to him. He looked like he had been in a fight. Where was
he now? Maybe he needed help. No, I couldn’t let him distract me. I had to help my
aunt.

Salvatore Bellomo must have legitimate feelings for my aunt because she was an absolute
nobody and lived on social security, her library pension, Medicare and a small amount
of money saved for a rainy day. Any extra money she had went for travel, and I supplemented
that at times. He couldn’t be after her money.

Then again he might be after those mythical jewels Zach swore he had touched. If my
aunt, knowing or unknowingly, knew where the jewels were, and if Mr. Bellomo played
along like he wanted to marry her, then maybe she would tell him where they were.
If the jewels were worth two million dollars that was a nice piece of change for not
very much work.

That was it. Grandpa was going to make an absolute fool of my aunt, take the jewels
and break her heart. I wondered if she would get to keep the ring. I could work up
an indignant rage, given half a chance.

“I’m waiting for your explanation, Claudie. Have you fallen asleep?”

My eyes snapped open.

“Before I go into that rather long story,” I said, knowing evasion of the truth was
the best I could come up with at the moment, “did you hear of Berengaria’s jewels?”

My aunt stopped playing with the ice in her glass and looked at me. “Of course. Everyone’s
heard of that legend, and everyone knows there are no jewels.”

“But did you hear anything during these last few weeks while you were on the island?
Did anyone joke about Berengaria’s jewels or about finding them or about seeing them?”
I tried not to prompt her with a hopeful face.

She frowned, pursed her lips, scrunched her nose. “Let me think. Maybe there was some
mention. Someone on every trip talks about them.”

“Yes, about how they were lost when Berengaria’s ship wrecked off the coast, and how
they were never recovered but people keep finding bits of gold and a precious stone
or two on the beaches around here.”

“Yes, that’s it.” She smiled. “Such an enchanting legend. I was always partial to
it.” She paused and cocked her head. “You know, now that you ask, I do remember Mrs.
Crawford mentioning jewels to a man at lunch one day. She was waiting for me outside
the ladies restroom and when I came out she broke off, and he walked away. I thought
it might have been about the legend because I heard Berengaria’s name. It’s hard to
mistake such a name, you know.”

“What did this man look like?” I asked.

“American. He and his wife are that American couple that come every year with the
group from Boston College. He’s rather tall. A beefy sort of man, rather dull face.
She’s a bit horsy looking, long head. They rented a blue Maruti this year. Quite an
ugly thing, but I guess it gets them around well enough.”

That’s all that I had -- a passing reference in a conversation overhead by accident.
Was Zack right that Berengaria’s jewels really existed?

In all the excitement I had forgotten my aunt might have a phone in her room. I needed
to get her away from this place. I decided to appeal to her sense of propriety.

“Aunt Elizabeth, I don’t think this arrangement looks quite right for you to be shacking
up with your intended. How about I call Yannis and have him pick us up? We can check
into a hotel. Where’s the phone?”

She frowned and scrunched her nose. “You think it looks bad my being here? I’m not
shacking up. After all, I have my own room.” She gazed about rather wistfully at the
sumptuous furnishings. “I don’t recall a phone in here, now that you ask.”

My nerves were getting the best of me. I had to get her out of here. Mr. Bellomo did
not have honorable intentions as far as I was concerned. I debated over confronting
him and telling him we were leaving or trying to sneak her out. I wondered if Luigi
was watching her room and walked over to the door to poke my head out. I listened
before I opened then cracked the door. No one in the hall. That was a plus.

“What are you doing, Claudie?” she asked, as I quietly shut the door.

“I was checking the layout in the hall. I think we need to go to a hotel to keep this
on the up and up. Why don’t you pack a few things while I have a look around?”

She didn’t budge from the couch and looked awfully comfortable seated there. I couldn’t
blame her. Being seated in the lap of luxury who would want to move?

She changed tactics on me. “Claudie, you still haven’t told me how you got here and
what took you so long. Sal said he tried to contact you.”

I decided to level with her as she sat so magnificently on her throne surveying her
queendom. “I met a man on the plane who helped me to find you but we ran into some
trouble. Mr. Bellomo might be tied up in a scheme to steal Berengaria’s jewels. Have
you seen some of the men he keeps company with?”

She giggled. “Of course, they do look like a rough bunch, but they’ve been absolute
gentlemen with me. They are his bodyguards. Do you know he has had threats made on
his life?” Then she frowned. “Are you saying he’s a thief? My Salvatore? How can he
be in a scheme to steal jewels that don’t exist?”

Now we had possessiveness and disbelief involved. This was going to be harder than
I thought. I could not appeal to reason, not that I had an open and shut case.

“But maybe the jewels do exist. Besides, do you want to marry someone who employs
bodyguards?” This added a level of danger to her life that I didn’t think was computing
with her. This group we were dealing with wasn’t stopping at a few statues and potsherds.
They were going for the crown jewels. Berengaria of Spain had been a crown Princess,
the intended of Richard I the Lionhearted, who married her right here in Limasol on
his way to the third crusade.

“Sal said it wouldn’t be like this in Sicily.”

I rolled my eyes and was interrupted in my astonishment by a rap at the door.

“That will be Sal now. He said we would take a walk along the beach this afternoon.”

She got up to go to the door.

“Wait a minute,” I whispered. “Don’t tell him I’m here.”

“Why ever not?” she whispered back. “Claudie, I don’t understand your hesitation.
Aren’t you happy for me? You haven’t congratulated me on my engagement.” She held
up the rock and gazed at it fondly.

I grabbed her arms. “Look, humor me for now. You go for a walk. I’ll look around and
come up with something.”

She smiled. “Good idea. I was looking forward to this walk with Sal.”

“Mum’s the word, right?”

“Okay, mum it is.” She giggled in delight at our big secret. “You can go into the
bedroom and hide in there. I’ll be back.”

I disappeared into the bedroom and hid in a gargantuan closet that most people would
call a room. I listened but couldn’t distinguish the conversation. The lovebirds must
have been whispering to each other. I heard the door close and hoped I was alone and
checked to be sure.

I did a quick search, looking for a phone. How could I be living in the 21
^st
century and not have a phone? But there was not a one in the room which told me Aunt
Elizabeth was not exactly a guest in the house. More like a hostage.

Hostage? The idea sent a chill through me. Bellomo might be holding her, thinking
she would lead him to the jewels. On the bright side, I had found my aunt. She was
unharmed and cheerful and engaged. Maybe.

Now I had to find Zach. Crazy as it sounded, since I had spent so much time trying
to get away, I needed to talk to him because doubts were brewing in my brain. I was
worried he looked so bad when he came in. Where had he gone this morning anyway?

I crept out of the room and down the hall, trying to get my bearings. I headed in
the direction of the rooms I had shared with Zach. More rose and cream carpet lined
the center of the white marble floors, making the hall look more like a hotel than
a home. Recessed alcoves showcased statues of more Greek and Roman gods, goddesses
and half-man-half-animal creatures, all looking quite authentic with chipped shoulders
and missing noses. No Luigi guarded our door. Curious. I listened at the door. Not
a sound, so I tried the handle, and the door swung open.

Zach lay stretched out on the couch fast asleep, or so it would seem from the way
he was snoring. His mouth hung open at an odd angle. I rushed in and checked him over.
A nasty swollen lip replete with dried blood accounted for the lop-sided quality of
his mouth. It looked like he had been hit across the left side of his beautifully
sculpted face, and his cheek and eye area were angry red. Scrapes on his knuckles
indicated he had gotten in some licks of his own. His shirt was open down the front,
and his exposed ribs were an ugly shade of purple.

I found ice, wrapped it in a cloth, sat on the floor in front of him, and put the
ice pack against his lip.

He groaned. One eye inched open.

“Claudie,” he mumbled, not able to work his mouth very well. “Where have you been?
You weren’t here when I got back.” He had trouble forming his words with the puffy
lip and slurred his speech like a drunk.

“Right and what happened to you? Did you step on a rake?”

“Press that harder against my lip, will you? That’s good.”

“Where did you go? When I awoke, you were gone.”

“I left with Lucca.” He spoke in fits and starts. “We tried to find the taxi driver
who took off last night and traced him to an unsavory neighborhood in Limasol.” His
eyes fluttered shut.

I gently shook him. “Zach, wake up. Who drugged you?”

“What?” His eyes rolled around crazily as he tried to focus on me. “Lucca gave me
something for the pain.”

“Must have been powerful stuff. What happened to you anyway? You look like you were
run down by a semi.”

“We got into a little rumble with Bruno and the boys. Lucca pulled me out of the ruckus
and got us both away. I was trying to find out who they are working for. It backfired
on me.”

He slipped back into a doze.

I shook him again. “Zack, listen. I think I know who might be involved in Berengaria’s
jewels. Wake up.”

He groaned into the couch.

What a time for him to be out cold.

I ran to the bar and searched the cupboard for coffee, got a pot going, drew a big
glass of ice water, filled a bowl with same, soaked a towel and wrung it out. I carted
towel and glass over to the coffee table and wrestled Zach into a sitting position
which took a while since he was dead weight.

“No time to sleep now, Zach, dear. We need to talk.” I placed the towel around his
neck and put the glass to his lips.

“Try to drink this.”

He curled his lips around the rim and slurped a few gulps, most of it dribbling down
his chin. His eye was turning an unhealthy shade of magenta and, with his unshaved
face, he looked decidedly derelict.

He gazed at me, bleary eyed.

“Zach, do you think you could walk?”

He wobbled at me like one of those dog statues on the back ledge of a car that bobbles
its head as you drive by.

“Claudie, I can’t keep you focused. Forgive me for shutting my eyes. I’m afraid I’m
no good to you right now.”

“Hold on.” I jumped up and rushed over to pour him a cup of black coffee.

“Here, it’s coffee, try to get some down. Maybe it will help you wake up.”

“Don’t want to wake up. Just want to sleep,” he said and flopped over. He mumbled
into the couch.

I pushed him carefully over on his back so I could understand him.

“They know …” and the words slurred into a burble.

“What do they know?” I shook him. What was he trying to say?

“Claudie …”

“What Zach? Take your time. Tell me what you want to say. It’s important.”

“You need to get out of here. I’m sorry I pulled you into …” He drifted off.