Page 34 of The Girl from Sicily

34

JESSICA, JULY 2005

The next morning, on waking, Jess remembered Piero was about to set off for a meeting in Agrigento. He’d invited her to go with him, but she hadn’t fancied waiting around while he was working. She put the coffee percolator on the stove while he took a shower, and they had breakfast together before he left.

‘Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?’ he asked as she kissed him goodbye.

‘I’m sure, Piero.’

She kept to herself the fact that she intended to go up to the baglio; she was eager to walk around and take everything in, knowing the property was finally hers. He would repeat his warning that she shouldn’t be there on her own. But she’d only seen the man on the motorbike once in all the times she’d visited; Piero was probably being over-protective, and she’d be perfectly safe.

An hour later, she parked in front of the rustic door and made her way through to the courtyard. Her chest buzzing with excitement, she wandered through the rooms and imagined how she would decorate them. She would make them as cosy and inviting as the winery’s interior. Casual with a touch of sophistication. Could this ever be a permanent home for her, though? It would certainly be a wonderful place for holidays, if there was a pool.

The need to take another look at the area where said pool might be built prompted her to head outside. She strolled around to the back of the farmhouse, where there was a patch of flat land that would be ideal. Giovanna and Angelo were growing tomatoes there, but surely they wouldn’t mind relinquishing it, given that Jess had decided they could carry on farming the rest of the property. She strode across the plot – it came to about 10 metres long by 5 metres wide, a good size.

A fresh, cooling breeze had sprung up, chasing fluffy white clouds across the sky. It was the perfect day for a walk. Why not resume her hike up the track towards the shepherd’s hut that had been interrupted by the need to go shopping the day after she’d visited Licata with Piero? She remembered it hadn’t been half as dangerous as Giovanna had made it out to be.

Jess swept her gaze around to see if her cousins were about, but they weren’t at the baglio. With no one to warn her off, Jess made her way up the track. She loved the view from the hillside, loved gazing down at the baglio and the village below. The strip of ragged peaks forming a rocky ridge behind the village towered above as she brushed past the prickly pears and agave plants. She kept her eye out for the long, black snakes that often slithered among the stones, and relished the sight of the big, bright butterflies. Even in the dry heat of summer, the countryside was beautiful. What would it be like in autumn, winter and spring? She couldn’t wait to find out.

Her legs ached with the effort of walking as she approached the ramshackle-looking shack she’d spotted before. All the windows were still boarded up and the door was firmly shut. She rattled it, but it was locked.

Something made the skin at the back of Jess’s neck prickle. Her heart hammered with sudden fear. Someone was watching her, she was sure of it. And that someone was inside the hut, puffing out noisy breaths.

Without warning, the roar of a motorbike came from lower down the track.

Jess whirled around. She needed to get out of there, but it was too late. Motorbike Man brought the bike to a halt, and it made a tik tik sound as he switched the engine off.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ he yelled in Sicilian. ‘Didn’t I warn you?’

‘I don’t know what you’re on about,’ Jess replied in English, her heart pounding and her mouth dry.

She shouldn’t have walked up here; she should have done what Piero had suggested and not come to the baglio alone. Pulse racing, she prepared to run, but before she could take one step, Motorbike Man had grabbed her, put his arm around her shoulder and pointed a pistol into her neck.

‘Don’t hurt me,’ she begged as he hustled her through the door.

Jess stared at the old man who’d appeared in front of her, and he stared back at her with piercing grey-blue eyes.

‘Who are you?’ she asked, eyeing the reading glasses on a string around his neck. He was dressed in baggy grey trousers and a plaid blue shirt.

‘I could ask you the same question,’ he said in English with a strong New York accent. ‘But I know the answer already. You’re Lucia’s granddaughter, and I’m your great-uncle Dinu.’

‘Bloody hell,’ she said, shock wheeling through her. ‘I thought you were dead.’

‘Obviously I’m not.’ He turned to Motorbike Man. ‘Tie her up, Bastianu. We’ll figure out what to do with her later.’

Jess shook with fear as she was manhandled into a rickety old chair, her hands behind her back.

‘Sit,’ Motorbike Man barked.

‘Let me go, please, I beg you. I’ve done nothing.’

‘It’s not what you’ve done.’ Jess’s great-uncle’s tone was threatening. ‘It’s what you might do.’

With his enigmatic smile, Dinu looked like a simple, harmless old man. But he wasn’t, of course. Jess knew about some of the things he’d done, and they made her blood run cold. He fetched rope from a cupboard at the back of the room and gave it to Motorbike Man.

‘Who’s this person?’ Jess asked as the man’s garlicky breath assailed her nostrils.

‘He’s my eldest son, your cousin Bastianu.’

‘I can’t say I’m pleased to meet you, Bastianu,’ she said, her voice trembling as he tied her to the chair.

‘Have you decided what we’ll we do with her?’ Bastianu asked his father.

‘Not sure yet, son. In the meantime, let’s get on with my packing.’

Jess inhaled a slow breath. She had to keep her composure; she mustn’t let fear take her over. To convince her great-uncle to release her, she needed to get into the right mindset. Nausea threatened to overcome her, but she swallowed down the bile that had made its way from her stomach to her throat.

‘Please let me go and I’ll keep quiet,’ she said calmly. ‘It appears you’re leaving soon. I don’t know where you’re going, so I wouldn’t be able to give information about your whereabouts.’

‘You’re just like Lucia.’ Dinu’s lips twisted. ‘She was a bossy girl who became a bossy woman. I was glad when she left Sicily and could no longer tell me what to do.’

‘You deprived her of her daughter,’ Jess couldn’t help saying. This despicable man needs to be told a thing or two. ‘You turned my mother against her. I grew up not knowing anything about my Sicilian family?—’

‘And now you know too much,’ Dinu said. ‘Gag her, Bastianu. I can’t stand the sound of her voice.’

Jess struggled while her cousin tied a dishcloth around her mouth.

‘Sit still or I’ll punch you in the face,’ he growled.

His words brought home to Jess the danger of her situation. These men are vile mafiosi who will stop at nothing.

She watched them busy themselves packing clothes, books, myriad papers and other paraphernalia into cardboard boxes. How foolish she was to have come up here. She really should have listened to Piero. Would her great-uncle kill her? Her skin turned clammy and her pounding heartbeat made her chest hurt.

Dinu and his son had started talking to each other in rapid-fire Sicilian, which she couldn’t understand. Her great-uncle must have been on the run for decades. But surely he couldn’t have been living in this hut all that time.

No one knew she was here. She wouldn’t be missed until that evening, when Piero got back. It might be too late by then.

Oh, God, what can I do?

Bastianu had tied her hands behind her back and had pushed the chair up against the rough stone wall. Stealthily, she rubbed the rope against a sharp piece of brick she could feel jutting into her.

The cord must have been quite old, and soon it began to slacken. Tears of relief welled up in Jess’s eyes. Dinu and his son were too busy to notice. But they might see what she’d done at any moment.

It’s now or never.

She squirmed from the slackened rope, pulled the gag from her face, jumped to her feet and ran for the door.

At the same time, a shot rang out and blew the lock to the door open. A man in a police uniform rushed in, followed by two others with their guns raised.

Jess stepped backwards with a cry.

For a moment, Dinu looked like a trapped animal, then he composed himself to face his captors.

‘You don’t know what you’re doing,’ he said in a low voice.

Was he trying to tell the police agent they’d got the wrong man?

But the officer reached under Dinu’s shirt and revealed him to be wearing three silver crosses on a chain.

‘You are Dinu Pavano,’ the police agent said. ‘After thirty-six years on the run the Boss of Bosses has finally been caught.’

Dinu fixed his visitors with a scornful expression, an inscrutable half-smile, offering his hand and his congratulations.

‘Did you have any help to find me, I mean from informers?’ he asked.

Jess’s breath hitched. How could he be so composed?

‘No one helped us. We simply intercepted your messages to the outside world, then followed the motorbike,’ the police officer said. He pointed to Bastianu and Jess. ‘Who are they?’

Dinu remained silent.

‘I’m his son,’ Bastianu said, puffing himself up to his full height.

‘And I’m his great-niece,’ Jess added. ‘But today is the first time I’ve met him.’

‘Arrest everyone,’ the police commander ordered his men. ‘Put Pavano in my car and the two others in the van.’

‘But… but… I’m innocent,’ Jess stuttered. ‘This is a mistake.’

‘We are taking you in for questioning, signora . You can make one phone call from the questura in Palermo.’ The police HQ.

* * *

Jess called Piero’s cell phone as soon as the police gave her permission to do so. To say he seemed shocked would be an understatement. But he told her not to worry, that he’d do everything he could to ensure she was set free.

The police commander questioned her next, making her feel vulnerable and sick to the stomach. She gasped with disbelief when he told her that her great-uncle had been running the Sicilian Mafia while on the run. But then she remembered how he’d put out a contract on his own niece, the daughter of his supposedly beloved twin sister. Dinu was evil, there could be no doubt about it.

A sergeant took Jess to a lonely cell, gave her a tray of food and water to drink, then left her to spend the rest of the day waiting. She sat on a bunk bed, her thoughts whirling. Nonna Lucia had been so certain that Dinu was dead. Except she’d done the same thing to Jess that she’d done to her own daughter, and had sent her to him.

History had well and truly repeated itself.

Finally, the sergeant returned and unlocked the cell door.

‘You’ve been released without charge,’ he said. ‘Come with me.’

In a room at the back of the questura , Piero opened his arms, and she ran into them, shaking so much that her teeth chattered.

‘My dearest Jess,’ he said. ‘I’m so sorry this has happened to you.’

‘You and me both.’ She sighed.

And the realisation dawned on her she couldn’t make this country her home. It was too raw, too complicated, too different from everything she’d ever known.

The sooner she was on a flight home to Bristol, the better.