Royal Digs by D. D. Scott

 
     
     
     
VESUVIUS
    (Prequel to Cozy Cash Mystery #4 - The Royal
Digs)
    (Quartermaster R’s story)
     
     
     
     
    S tanding in the Museo
di Capodimonte, Valerie Malloy studied the many interpretations of
Vesuvius’ eruption. It wasn’t just the volcanic activity that burst
from the canvases. It was the color play and emotion-filled lines
that captured the explosive vitality of Naples.
    Just like the artists she admired, Valerie
understood the mysteries of the city and the beauty that the
violence of the eruptions had carved into its bay. And as if she
were in Homer’s Odyssey sailing home from the Trojan War, she
struggled to escape the deadly songs of the Sirens.
    Like the young aristocrats of 18th century
England, she first came to Naples for The Grand Tour upon her
graduation from Harvard. Not only did she explore her classical
past, she also met the man who forever changed her future.
    The devastation of Vesuvius was no match for
the pain she’d endured at the hands of Giotto Bernini.
    As her mind bent towards his memories, cold
chills claimed not just her body but also her soul.
    It was almost as if he were once more present
and watching her, a feat she reasoned impossible. But was it? With
his abilities and his family’s vast resources, she knew better than
to disregard his power.
    In hopes that the warmth of the Italian
sunshine would calm her unsettled spirit, she rushed out of the
museum. But the air still held the same restless currents as
earlier in the day. And there was certainly nothing soothing about
the dark sky hinting at the approach of a fierce storm.
    As the winds began to blow, she hurried
home.
    Reaching the ancient stone walls that guarded
her villa just as the first rain drops splattered the dirt road,
she pushed hard against the rusted iron gate that lead to the
safety of her courtyard.
    As she struggled to close it, the
bougainvillea blanketing the wall danced a wild jig. Her lemon
trees bent and twisted to their own wicked groove. And torrential
rains beat down on everything in their path.
    When she was almost safe at her doorstep, a
small boy whizzed to a halt on his Vespa only inches from the gate.
The wild-eyed street urchin jumped from his bike, waved his arms,
and frantically called out to her.
    “Bella! Bella!”
    Not expecting any messages and leery of these
urchins, she was tempted to ignore the boy. ‘Course these days, she
ignored almost everyone. She simply couldn’t take those kinds of
risks.
    Giotto had eliminated most of her family and
friends, and so as not to put anyone else in his family’s or
associates’ paths, she socialized with few.
    But something in the boy’s urgency made her
acknowledge him.
    “Scusilo?” He asked while hurrying through
the gate.
    Taking a small piece of parchment out of his
pocket, he placed it in her hand, then high-tailed it back to his
bike and sped off through the storm.
    She brushed her fingers across the back of
the way-too-familiar embossed seal and trembled.
    This could not be true.
    Five years had passed. And nothing. No
contact. No unfortunate accidents. Nothing but peace.
    She closed the heavy wooden door to her villa
and carefully opened the note.
    She gasped. Screamed towards the heavens,
then dropped the note and crumpled into a heap on the cold mosaic
tiles of her entryway.
    She remembered a crack of lightning followed
by a horrific boom of thunder. And then her world went black.
     
    • • •
     
    Focusing on the candlelight and the crackling
fire that illuminated the otherwise dark room, Valerie struggled to
comprehend what was happening.
    It had to be a bad dream. It simply had to
be, she thought. She refused to believe otherwise. But after
Giotto’s death at the hands of the Italian police, nightmares of
this magnitude had no longer plagued her sleep. So why now? Why had
they returned?
    Five years ago, on a stormy night, not much
different than this one, while the police raided one of Giotto’s
illegitimate