Читать книгу The Miracle of the Images - Welby Thomas Cox Jr. - Страница 9

He was also Capo dell Ufficio Centrale Vigilanza, the man in charge of the Vatican police, and had been in that position for fifteen years. He had called Aldo precisely at 8:00am, waking him from a deep sleep and telling him it was imperative they talk.

Of course Aldo had agreed to meet with him even though Williams would give no indication of the purpose of the meeting. Before Aldo left The Hassler Hotel he placed a call to Monsignor Voght. He discovered that he was out of town. He next called Father Tim Dalton but he was not yet in his office. Aldo was able to leave a message on Dalton's recorder, informing Father Dalton of the call from the Vatican police and the invitation to meet, which he was about to do in forty-five minutes. Could Father Dalton come to Williams Albertson's office as soon as he received this call. Aldo would wait for him there, regardless of the time.

Aldo took a cab across the Tiber River, they drove a few hundred yards, then turned down the colonnad Via della Conciliazione with the unmistakable dome of St. Peter's in the distance. Aldo watched wondering how deep into the Vatican they would go until they reached the office of the Capo.

The wall surrounding the Vatican City is an international boundary. The cab took the public entrance to the museums and stopped at the Swiss Guard post. A call went to Williams Albertson to inform of Aldo Selleri's arrival for his appointment. The cab was permitted to enter the grounds, took a left around the Piana courtyard, past the Apolistic Library and the Belevedere Courtyard where he hung a left, past the Post Office, the papal Printing Office and the Church of St. Anne. The cab stopped in front of the Barracks of the Swiss Guard.

Aldo paid the cab and entered the Barracks and found a receptionist smiling at him at the front desk.

"I am Aldo Selleri here to see Williams Albertson, Por favor."

"Momento."

"Grazie."

"Prego."

She reappeared and guided Aldo down the hall and into a conference room.

"Coffe'?"

"Grazie."

"Yes, good morning Father Selleri...so good of you to come over."

"Capo ...please permit me to clear up this matter of my being a priest. You see when I received my passport I noticed that it contained the prefix of Reverend. I contacted Father Tim Dalton here at the Vatican and informed him of the error. He apologized but said there wasn't time to make the change to meet the travel itinerary and not to worry with it that it would be changed as soon as I got here. Of course you will be able to corroborate this with Father Tim or perhaps even Monsignor Voght."

"Grazie, Mr. Selleri for your candor...this of course is the principle reason for my interest in speaking with you. I had a conversation with the agent at the customs and passport at the DaVinci Airport. They called to verify your existence as a priest upon your arrival yesterday. Of course the data could not be confirmed so we knew there was a problem, especially since the passport was newly issued."

"I regret that they made no issue of the discrepancy at DaVinci, because I would have been truthful with them regarding the error." Aldo said.

"Now Mr. Selleri you may go...may I offer you a ride back to your hotel?"

"Grazie...no, I am expecting Father Tim Dalton to meet me here if that will be permissible." Aldo answered.

"Of course...more coffee perhaps?"

"You are very kind and that would be wonderful."

Aldo had a second cup of coffee as he waited for Father Tim. He glanced at the Vatican and Rome newspapers. As he looked through the Rome section on the United States, he was shocked to see the brief story regarding the DHL bombing and the death of the DHL driver at Centerville, Ohio. My God he thought what a way to make the world news.

Within half hour, Father Tim showed at the Capo's office. He could not have been more apologetic and suggested that they should go immediately to the post office and remedy the error. There were no problems associated with the occupation change and the office stated that the passport would be ready the next day.

Aldo suggested that the Capo should be informed so as to allay any further concern that he or the customs folks might have with the passport. Since the Capo office was no more than two blocks from the Vatican Post Office Father Tim suggested they walk.

Father Tim met privately with the Capo and then he and Aldo decided that breakfast was in order. Anxious to get back to the hotel for messages from home, Aldo suggested that they head back to the hotel for breakfast. Father Tim agreed knowing that while the food at the Vatican was pretty good, it would not compare with the Hotel Hassler. It was a good decision...the hotel had a wonderful breakfast buffet, which met the culinary requirements of both Aldo and Father Tim.

But even as they ate their fill of the breakfast goodies Aldo had a sinking feeling about the DHL bombing back home...the timing was perfect for his delivery which had not yet arrived and the incident took place in Centerville, the location of Handmaker's office. Aldo didn't know how much trouble was headed in his direction. The crush of the DHL driver's murder was soon to be followed by the announcement of the gangland hit on Freddy Fingers. Something was amiss and seriously so.

Aldo did not want to be rude but he simply had to speak with Homer Handmaker regarding the mailing tube from DHL. It would soon be nine in the morning and if Aldo did not call soon, Handmaker would be off to court which would take the rest of the morning and at that time, Rome would be out of the business communication loop.

Aldo ate up and made his apologies to Father Tim. He promised to touch base with him later in the afternoon, collect the corrected passport and have dinner together or take in a play. Aldo scurried across the hotel lobby to the desk of the hotel Concierge.

"Por favor." Aldo said, "Do you have the scheduled delivery of DHL from the United States."

"Yes sir...they have been here today...and your name sir?"

"Grazie...my name is Aldo Selleri and I am in room 325."

"Yes Senor Selleri...we do not have a delivery for you...but it may come again this afternoon, and I will make a special effort to find you."

"You are too kind." Aldo said giving the Concierge a generous gratuity.

Next Aldo headed for the newsstand and checked for any state side newspaper with a focus on the mid-west. He located the Cincinnati Inquirer...dear God in heaven... what a blessing Aldo thought...of all places, this paper...here in Rome... but after all, Cincinnati was a major Catholic city.

Aldo nearly sprinted through the lobby and to the elevator. He got off at the 3rd floor and hurried as well to his room... after opening the door Aldo made his way to the bath room to read the paper. The headline buried in the first section was ominous...

CENTERVILLE, OHIO... DHL TRUCK BOMBED... DRIVER KILLED.'

`A plastic explosive device was ignited inside a cargo bay of a DHL route truck today killing the driver, thirty-two year old Gerald Toomes and causing mayhem in this quiet suburb of Dayton, Ohio. Police are investigating the cause and have not ruled out the possibility of a terroristic attack.'

Aldo continued to read through the paper...there in the Neighborhood Section another bazaar story.

NEWPORT, KENTUCKY... 'The body of an unknown white male was discovered by city sanitation workers in a small riverside park this morning. The death appeared to be a gangland type murder. The deceased had been strangled, stabbed in the jugular vein, in the eye and the tips of his fingers had been severed. Police are investigating the cause of the crime and trying to identify the dead man who appeared to be mid-forties.'

********************

Wermuth found Freddy Fingers small white Chevete parked near the riverside park. He pushed the seat on the driver's side back as far as possible to enable him to push his huge frame into the car. Not an easy task...but Wermuth was nonplused about the circumstance...making the best of it he started the car and headed through Newport toward Covington, no more than three miles he turned left and made his way to an old neighborhood overlooking the Ohio River and the beautiful skyline of Cincinnati. As he passed the Cathedral, Wermuth crossed himself, kissed his thumb and wondered at the beauty of the lighted bell tower. Wermuth found the address easily enough and a parking spot nearby. He gingerly removed his massive frame from behind the wheel and replaced the seat to its original position. He carefully checked the interior, glove compartment and trunk and then locked the door and discarded his rubber gloves in a city trash container at the curb beside a small neighborhood grocery. Looks like a tasty little shop Wermuth thought knowing full well that they probably served great baloney on German rye with lettuce, pickle, onion, tomato and mayo for about a buck and a quarter. He wondered how they could do so and remain in business, his stomach moaned and he knew that he would soon be able to have an early breakfast or late dinner...maybe both.

Cautiously, Wermuth put on surgical gloves and unlocked the front door...there was the sound of a radio down the hall...rather loud he thought...how rude...but it was best for his purpose. Apartment two on the second floor in the front of the old Victorian house appeared to be empty...he wasn't sure this was the home of Freddy McNair (aka Freddy Fingers) but the key worked. Inside Wermuth quickly turned on a small light in the kitchen, checked the refrigerator and found a Coors Light, which he opened and drank without stopping. He washed off the can and placed the can in his pocket.

Wermuth cased the entire small apartment, found nothing...lit a cigarette, took several draws and placed it in an ashtray beneath a table lamp. An old, well used newspaper sat nearby, Wermuth placed the newspaper close enough to the cigarette that it would soon ignite. He went back to the kitchen, checked the small stove and put out the pilot light. He could smell the natural gas as he opened the door to the refrigerator once more and removed another can of Coors. The paper had ignited as Wermuth closed the door behind him and moved silently down the stairs and out the front door. He walked briskly down the darkened street toward the city skyline, it was quite in the neighborhood, Wermuth heard the sound of an occasional dog barking to come in the house, and then there was the squeak of his size sixteen shoes which Wermuth did not hear, probably because they were so far from his ears. Three blocks down in front of the Cathedral, Wermuth lit a cigarette and looked back toward the apartment...he could see a slight glow starting through the leaded window...soon he thought, Covington would have a lit skyline of its own.

********************

Aldo sat at the desk in his hotel room. He had a piece of stationary with The Hotel Hassler letterhead. Dear Homer...I have today seen the stories in the Cincinnati Inquirer of the incident involving the DHL truck at Centerville. Should this give me cause to be alarmed in as much as the delivery from your associates in Rome has not yet arrived.

Please advise if the mailing tube with my portrait was on this truck.

Aldo went to the front desk. He gave the letter to the clerk with a front sheet and asked that the document be faxed to Handmaker as soon as possible. He gave the clerk a gratuity and eased away from the desk to go back to his room.

"Grazie." The clerk said.

"Prego." Replied Aldo.

Instead of going to his room Aldo decided to walk down Via Bruxelles, Aldo was casually dressed in tan Dockers with a blue Polo dress shirt, loafers and Aviator glasses to shield his eyes from the noontime sun. His closely trimmed gray beard looked nearly white and more as though he had not shaven for a couple of days. His hair was cropped short as well and it too was turning white. He had a deep tan from working in the fields but many women glanced and smiled at him as though he was some middle aged actor...or artist which he was. They all acted as though Aldo was someone they should know or wanted to know. If they only knew how vulnerable he was at this moment...perhaps easy was the word.

Not far from the hotel and the Tiber River a recent wall, perhaps nineteenth century surrounded the grounds to the old Parco di Villa Grazioli, now a subdivision of apartment buildings and large private residences. At number 56, Aldo stopped in front of a tall green gate. Aldo noticed that a dark blue Cadillac limousine with a golden seal of the United States awaited the gates opening. It opened and the Cadillac pulled through to reveal a four-story, beige brick and-marble structure that was the Embassy for the People's Republic of China.

The window to the rear driver side was down and Aldo could see an immaculately dressed man in a gray suit with silver hair. Aldo had only just seen his photograph in the morning paper... it was the Ambassadore to Italy, S. Thomas Folsume. As the Cadillac pulled through the gated entrance, Aldo noted that a women had gotten out on the other side. The car passed her as she slammed the door. She was definitely too old to be the Ambassadore's daughter and dressed inappropriately to be his wife. She was wearing a New York Yankee's blue baseball cap on top of long auburn hair. She had a flight jacket and was wearing jeans and sneakers.

Pretty obvious, the dress code for an action reporter. Probably a European correspondent for one of the world news agencies Aldo reasoned. They all looked alike...and wanted to appear that they were always in some danger mode...perhaps as close as they would come to Indiana Jones.

She appeared to be going his way, so Aldo strolled along behind her at some distance. He was certain he had lost her when he turned off a side street to a corner trattoria. Aldo sat down outside and ordered an espresso. The waiter returned quickly and sat the small cup of black silt before Aldo.

"Grazie" he said

"Prego" the waiter responded.

"Are you avoiding me?" She said

"Not in this lifetime." He said

"May I join you then? She said.

"I would be honored." Aldo said as he stood and placed his hand on the slight chair to support her weight as he pushed the chair beneath her.

"American?"

"Via Italy." Aldo said. "I've been in America for many years....all my life really."

"You?" He said.

"Transplanted as well...work for CNN, covering Bosnia, Africa and Croatia. Originally from Baltimore...you know Maryland."

"Yes nearly five hundred miles from Cleveland, Ohio.""Is that where you are from."

"No...I have a farm in Springboro, Ohio...three hundred fifty miles from Cleveland."

"As the crow flies." She smiled a beautiful smile demonstrating the wisdom of parents who had invested in braces producing a mouth full of straight, glistening white teeth.

The waiter came... "Will you order signore?"

"Cappuccino...Por favor."

"Another espresso..." Aldo said.

"Sony." Aldo said...extending his hand and removing his aviator glasses. "I am Aldo Selleri."

"Carla Owen." She said taking his hand and holding it for a moment. She noticed the deep tan of his hand and the arm leading to the elbow, which was strong looking.

"What brings you to Rome Aldo?"

"I have an ancient piece of religious art which I am donating to the Vatican. I will have an audience with his Holiness Pope Benedict in a couple of days."

"Must be an extraordinary piece of art...an old world master?"

"Don't know Carla...it has been in my family for generations, taken to America and handed down all these years. I do not have a family, so I do not want it to get into the hands of the...shall we say...art world...some purveyor who might not share it with the Catholic faithful."

"Well that is extremely generous of you...but why do you believe that it is Catholic and not Protestant...Baptist...some other form of Christian faith.

"No, no...it is Catholic...there is a history that comes with this portrait...handed down through generations, you know stories of the miracles of the Blessed Virgin...many centuries ago, I can say no more, but you can take my word as a gentleman...it is Catholic."

"Very convenient...but as a reporter, I am skeptical...but your response and gratuitous act of generosity is certainly admirable."

"Another doubting Thomas...let me put my hand into your side...my fingers into your palms..." Aldo laughed touching her beautiful long fingers as he sat next to her.

"Mr. Selleri...I would say you have designs on me...I suggest that you have no need of the Trevi Fountain for making wishes or foreplay...you sir, may put your hands any place you desire on my body." She looked at Aldo with piercing intelligent green eyes, a more beautiful woman he had never seen, he lifted the Yankee cap from her auburn hair and it fell below her shoulders as he reached over and kissed her ever so gently.

"Your place or mine?"

"I live just down the street...small apartment."

"Shall we?" Aldo said as he gestured to the waiter...he left a ten dollar bill and they walked away toward the Via Condotti and then to the Via del Corso.

Her apartment was truly small, neat and sensual. It was one of those things, sex that comes right up from nowhere. Heat that just happens. The body ignites a flame and the whole thing goes up. There was a click as she closed the door. Then she came to him in the darkness. Mouth open, kissing him roughly, her tongue exploring his. The back of his hands so gentle and expertly running over the top of her shoulders...sliding the flight jacket to the floor. She was wearing a light slip under a blouse, which Aldo moved over her breast gently and then over her head. There was no bra...her nipples were hard as Aldo bent to tease them with the tip of his tongue.

Her hands unbuttoned his shirt...moved it over his shoulders and it dropped to the floor...covering hers. She opened his slacks, taking down his shorts. Taking his hardness in her hand, stroking him, then Aldo unbuttoned her jeans and they dropped to the floor and she stepped out of them. She ran his penis against the silk underwear. She backed to the couch and sat down on the edge as she took him in her mouth. Aldo turned and took her legs and placed them on the couch...he mounted her as she sucked him generously.

Aldo parted the lips on her vagina and slid his tongue over the top of the clitoris...she muscled up against the sensation, the warmth of his tongue as he circled, exploring the walls of the vagina and pressing the flattened tongue against the clitoris...ever widening and more forceful as she heaved against the sensation and the approaching explosion of her climax.

"That wasn't fair...and you took advantage of me...she said as he turned and kissed her full on the mouth...exchanging the wetness of her pussy with his tongue."

"All is fair in love and war...you know."

Now he picked her up from the couch and without speaking he kissed her a deep and provocative kiss. He carried her into the bedroom and placed her on the bed. He opened the foil package he carried for luck... she took the condom from the foil and rolled it down his hardened penis...he took her gently at first, placing his penis only slightly into her throbbing and oozing vagina. She pushed her pelvis against him as he gently rocked above her and within her only slightly. Aldo pushed his penis in and out measuring the sensation as she pushed against him yearning for more...knowing there was more...he felt her come again and again as he teased her and then after the third orgasm he pushed the full length of his fully engorged cock up into her wet vagina and rocked in and out and side ways creating the kind of friction which drove both of their sweaty bodies into a convulsive heap.

As one, they came as though signaling each other that they had been punished long enough and now deserved the climax.

Aldo felt her throbbing beneath him. He too continued to come until he felt the colored plastic backing away from his body...he could not move though he felt he must reach down and pull off the condom before it leaked and penetrated her vagina. Only that drove him to roll over and go to the bathroom. When he returned with a warm wash clothe, Carla had rolled over on her stomach...he inserted the wash clothe between her legs and began to message her back... she moaned a long and satisfied grown as he lay down beside her.

Her moaning stayed in his mind for a long time. By Aldo's count she had come five times in two hours and he had come once, and he wasn't certain that she did not want more.

Carla lay looking at Aldo... "You make love as though you have dreamed it thousands of times and have done it once."

"So you are complaining."

"No, no...I am so completed by a man who innately knows how to fulfill a woman...and I just happened along."

"It was my lucky day."

As planned, Aldo knew that once he had come his penis would have no more of it for hours...that was the way of an old cock. Not bad for a sixty-seven year old. He did not know if Carla kept track of her orgasms...but he did know that she did not want him to go to sleep there. She told him that in little more than three hours she had to get up and catch a flight to Bosnia. She kissed him and asked which hotel was he staying and promised to call upon her return in a couple of days.

As Aldo entered the Hassler Hotel lobby he remembered the tentative plan to meet with Father Tim...he might understand, but Aldo knew he would be unable to tell him of Carla and the night of passion.

He checked with the night clerk and was told there was a message from Father Dalton and a fax communique. Aldo took the fax and headed for the elevator. He opened the fax and noted that it was from Homer Handmaker. Only one sentence...I regret to inform you that the DHL service, which picked up your portrait was indeed fire bombed...call me at any hour. Handmaker had left his home and cell phone for Aldo. He glanced at his watch and it was now 1:00am in Rome, making it 5:00pm in Centerville. Aldo hurried to his room and placed the call to Handmaker.

The receptionist was still at work and she efficiently transferred Aldo to Handmaker.

"Aldo...am I glad you have called...terrible thing this bombing...killed the driver and apparently burned your canvass to dust. How are you?"

"Well I am shocked Homer...terrorist in Centerville...I don't believe it...there is something strange about it...why bomb a delivery truck in the middle of an all but abandoned parking lot."

"Maybe the bomb was set to go off later and something happened to it...I don't know Aldo...I do know that your portrait was torched and I want to know what you want me to do when the insurance company comes calling."

"I don't want any publicity on this at all counselor...so please stay away from the insurance company...I don't want or need it."

"Aldo, DHL doesn't want a public exchange either...they will be looking to settle this claim quick and easy...please let me explore this component with them...nothing official you understand."

"Homer you have better things to do...I suggest you drop this like a bad case of tuna and drop it now...I do not want to fund another dime of expense for this."

"Listen Aldo...I feel responsible for this and believe me there will be no cost to you...if we settle with your permission, we'll take the industry standard one-third and you can give the rest to charity."