THE PRIEST OF SANTA MARIA - { CHAPTER. NINE } - [ PART. 6 ]

{ PART.  1 } - [ CHAPTER  NINE:                                                      A smoky haze coiled its way towards the ceiling of the fourteenth-century cellar where an opulent fresco, spanning its entire length, featured Aquilon, god of the north wind. A ferocious gale blasted mouth, which, with the aid of the drifting smog resembled a billowing wind bearing down on the restaurant beneath it. A waiter delivering a plate of steaming linguini made his way beneath archways and beams, each step intensifying the trepidation he felt. It was a hazardous job: one wrong move; a spillage of wine; a hot beverage in a lap; or simply catching a word or phrase that could end his life. He kept the secrets contained, like the old Tuscan building in which he worked--secrets that he left behind each day when his shift was over, safely enclosed within the solid stone walls. He reached a table surrounded by men. Ricardo made no acknowledgement as the waiter placed the plate carefully, silently, on the table beneath the newspaper he was studying intently. You need to look at this, said Ricardo, addressing Don Primo, a man with steely blue eyes, to his left, clearly the head of the family. Enzo, a man in his fifties with a deep scar running from the bottom of his right eye to mid-cheek, was sitting to Don Primo's left.                                                                      ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  { PART.  2 } - He stopped mid-munch and looked at Ricardo in amusement. Don Primo raised his head, that formidable glint escaping his eyes, that characteristic smirk on his lips. You're mistaken, I think. If, however, you think there is something I might like to see, you need to address me with some respect! Enzo smirked and started munching again, while the men around the table sniggered. My sincere apologies, Don Primo, it's just that there's something here I think you should err, might, like to see. Don Primo accepted the newspaper, grinning to his cronies. Then his face changed. What is it Boss? asked Enzo. Don Primo remained silent as he read. When he finished, he put the paper down on the table, and with his index finger on the article of interest, he slid it over to him. Enzo gawped, his gaze transfixed as he read. The rest of the table was silent--each man's attention on Enzo. When he finished reading, he raised his head and visibly gulped. Then turned to his Boss. You two, said Don Primo, pointing first to Ricardo, then to Enzo, go to this convent and let me know what you find. If it's her, I want her back, unharmed. Is that clear? Yes, Boss, said Enzo standing up. Yes, Boss, repeated Ricardo rising from his seat. And Enzo... Don Primo fixed him with a malign stare.                                                              ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- { PART.  3 } - Don't f...this up! No way Boss; said Enzo, making sincere eye contact. Don Primo's steely gaze remained steady on Enzo, who was growing more uncomfortable with each ticking moment. With a brusque tone, he snapped, Go! The two men flinched, turned and quickly headed for the door. Enzo shot a scathing look at the back of Ricardo's head. - A LOADED SILENCE STIFLED - the air as the car gunned its way along the motorway at the dead of night. Enzo scrutinised the newspaper article while Ricardo drove the car, puffing on his cigarette. His eyes sharply focused on the road ahead. Enzo removed his mobile phone from his pocket and ran an internet search for Santa Maria L'adorata. His rough, oversized finger hit the relevant find. His search was interrupted by the ringing phone. He looked at the screen and hit the answer button. Yes, Boss... No problem Boss... I've got this. He hit the end button and went back to his search. What did the Boss want? Enzo maintained a steady gaze on his phone. None of your business, that's what.                                                                                                       ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  { PART.  4 } - Ricardo's face contorted with scorn. It's because I'm an outsider, isn't it? Enzo turned to Ricardo with a peevish look on his face. What is? The reason you don't like me. Enzo returned to his phone. That's about right. Why? I don't trust you! he snapped. I've given you no reason to doubt my loyalty to Don Primo. I've seen what happens to your friends. The Baldi family? Enzo ignored him and continued to read the information on his phone. They were no friends of mine. They killed my parents. I was just a kid. I got in with them to get even. Don Primo gave me respect for what I did. I wiped out his competition. I don't care about your s...We're not friends here. We have a job to do. That's it. Okay, I understand. No you don't! You don't get it all. You've filled Don Primo with hope. If it's not her, what do you think he'll do to us? Ricardo remained silent, anxiously staring at the road ahead. He'll have our guts removed and fed to the pigs, that's what.                                                                  ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------{ PART.  5 } - And I'm his brother-in-law. Well, maybe it's her. Don't you want to redeem yourself? She escaped on your watch. You think I don't know that? That bitch made me look like a fool, and she's gonna pay. . . And, what is that s...it said in the article? You believe that? Ricardo shook his head. No. When I saw it, I don't know. It just sounded like it could be her. Well, you should have kept your mouth shut and come to me first. I would have checked it out, and if it was her I would have told him. I didn't think of that. He was there. I told him. An you've opened up a big can of worms. Now, if it's her, we have to find a way to get her out of a the convert, without shooting a load of nuns in the process. We'll work it out, Enzo. We'll work together, and we'll work it out. I'm warning you to watch that rash temper of yours and that trigger-happy finger. Do I make myself clear? You got it, Enzo. You're calling the shots. Enzo went back to his phone and maintained his brawny, seasoned veneer, despite his guts twisting like a tornado.                                                                ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------  { PART. 6 } - A FEW HOUES LATER: - Ricardo pulled up to the hefty gates of Santa Maria where the innocence of the morning shone its gentle warmth on the slumbering streets surrounding the convent. They peered out of the front wind-screen, awestruck by the sight of the Virgin Mary poised over the impenetrable gates that lay ahead of them. How the hell we gonna get in there? said Ricardo. There's a shop on a road called Via scala, we'll find a way through there, said Enzo. He pointed to the steep, sloping road. There it is. Ricardo continued forward on to Via Scala and parked opposite the shop. Without a word, Enzo got out of the car and made his way to the door. The opening times were on the inside window, on a typed laminated board that was worn and slightly faded by the relentless daily assault of the sun's rays. He squinted his eyes, ran his indix finger down to the correct day of the week, and returned to the car. It opens in about an hour. He looked at his watch. They're probably finishing mass as we speak.                                                                  ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------