Snowfall in Venice

The Flawed Madonna

THE FLAWED MADONNA

The maid, Alba Bianchi, once again stood at attention in front of the massive desk of Don Benedetti. Once more, she was visibly trembling.

"Relax, Alba. You have done a good thing. I know many of the local people believe that I am a cruel man, and that may be true. But above all, I am an honorable one." He took a puff of his cigar before continuing. "In this bag is the ten-thousand-dollar reward that you asked for. It's yours to keep, but if you or your cousin Marta Rinaldi ever breathe a word of this matter, Carlos will retrieve the reward along with both of your little fingers. Do you understand?"

"Si signore." She turned to leave.

Don Benedetti stopped her. "Alba, go check on the woman. Make sure she is okay and offer her some refreshments."

Alba unlocked the door to the luxuriously furnished guest apartment and entered. Gayle Gunderson was sitting alone on the bed. She had been at the villa for several hours after the local police delivered her but still had not seen Don Benedetti.

"May I get you something, signora?" Alba asked in Italian.

Gayle replied in the same language. "Please, just let me go. I haven't done anything, and I just want to go home." She broke out in tears. Alba wasn't sure what to do, so she left the room, locking the door carefully behind her.

Outside, heavy rain had started to fall. Gayle went to the window and stared out just as a long black limo pulled up in front of the villa. The driver side door opened first, and the massive figure of Carlos the houseman emerged. He was carrying a parcel wrapped in heavy brown paper. He opened the passenger door with a key, and a figure stepped out into the rain.

Gayle's heart almost stopped as she realized that the man was her husband, Mark. Her emotions were conflicted. Terrified at seeing Mark, a prisoner, but elated because she knew her husband was a smart and resourceful man. If anyone could get them out of this mess, it would be Mark.

Carlos pushed me through the entrance to the villa, then knocked on the door to Don Benedetti's office before entering. The Mafiosi leader continued a low conversation in Italian with a young girl sitting on his red leather couch. I assumed it was a young girl. I could barely make out her figure under a long black outfit that covered her from head to foot. Finally, Benedetti pointed to one of the two chairs in front of his desk and motioned for me to sit. Carlos handed the wrapped package to his boss and then took up a position by the doorway, standing guard.

The Don still did not speak to me but smiled as he unwrapped the package. I was in a quandary. I wasn't sure how much The Don knew as I had no way of knowing that Alba and her cousin had already passed on all the details of the hermit's confession to Benedetti.

I decided to bluff it out. "I have no idea why I am here. Your man kidnapped me while I was trying to return to Venice for my flight to the USA."

The Don ignored me and continued to unwrap the package. Finally, the last of the wrapping fell away, and he held the beautiful, but flawed, multi-colored statue of the Madonna in his hands. The Don paused to light a cigar.

"Could you tell me, signore, why an American tourist would come all the way to Murano just to purchase a piece of ruined art?"

I continued with my bluff. "Just as I told The Maestro, I wanted something ugly to present to my ex-wife to celebrate our divorce." Don Benedetti laughed sadly and nodded to Carlos.

Carlos left the office but soon returned. I gasped when I saw Carlos holding Gayle. Carlos pushed Gayle roughly onto the seat beside me.

"Now that your ex-wife is here, perhaps you would like to give her the present you selected to celebrate your divorce." The Don sat back, waiting for a response from me. I was still in shock over seeing Gayle here at the villa.