Mozzarella Most Murderous

Frightened out of my wits, I stared at Hank Girol, who was leaning against a rock, coughing and pointing the gun in our direction, while we, fools that we were, stood at the edge of the cliff. I realized too late that I had made some very serious mistakes. First, I should have taken that rental contract seriously. Second, even if I didn’t take it seriously, I shouldn’t have jumped at the chance to go to Capri. And third, I should have at least told Carolyn about the contract so she, who was not addled by advanced pregnancy, could have taken it seriously and refused to go anywhere with him. “You’re kidding, right?” I asked hopefully.

“No, I’m not,” he replied, no charming smiles or good-natured banter now. “Jump or lie down where you can’t be seen if anyone should come down the road.”

Carolyn hesitated, then lay down. For goodness sake! Wasn’t she even going to argue for her life? At least she didn’t lie down on the edge of the cliff where he could roll her off. She carefully eased herself down onto her stomach so that her head was directly in front of his feet.

Hank laughed. “Throwing yourself at my feet, Carolyn? Or is that just the best you can do, besides hogging the cough drops, to make things difficult for me? I hope you realize, my nosy little detective, that I’m granting your wish. I’m pretty sure that you’ll be going to Capri. You should wash up there in a day or two.”

“Why are you doing this?” I demanded. I was the one who’d be pushed over, obviously. No way could I lie down, certainly not on my stomach. Terror forced the blood into my face, and I felt as if I’d suddenly developed a high fever.

“Don’t play dumb, Bianca,” he chided. “You know why it came to this. You just had to read those rental papers, and then as soon as we got back, you had to tell Carolyn. You practically dragged her into the elevator so you could pass on the news.”

“I did not,” I protested. Oh, God! I was getting dizzy. I couldn’t faint! I took a quick peek at Carolyn, who was untying his shoes. Why? Hoping he’d trip while carrying one or the other of us to the edge of the cliff. “We were both soaking wet and wanted to get to our rooms,” I protested. “I didn’t tell her anything.” I side-stepped away from the edge so that I could put my back against a tall, safe rock. Hank just laughed at me.

“Then it’s too bad she came along,” he said, “but since she’s here, she goes over too. No way I’m going to let you put me in Sorrento the night Paolina died.” He wiped his nose as he scowled at me.

“Then you killed her?” Even at this point, I found it hard to believe that he had killed Paolina. “Why would you?” I was taking deep breaths in between each sentence, trying to overcome the dizziness induced by abject terror.

“The bitch had the intercom on, making notes on a conversation I had with Ruggiero in Catania. She snapped the machine off as I was coming out the door and shoved the notebook in her desk. Probably thought I didn’t notice.”

His voice, hoarse and angry, gave me the shivers, as if I wasn’t already terrified. Still, I had to keep him talking because Carolyn, when I glanced at her, was now messing with both his shoelaces. I didn’t know what she was up to, or what good it was going to do, but maybe we had a chance if I could keep him from looking down.

“Not too bright are you, little Miss Italy.” Another spasm of coughing hit him. “I did try to get the notebook,” he snarled. “Ruggiero and I searched the office after she went home, then I followed her home and fucked her, and searched her apartment as soon as she went to sleep. No notebook. After that I told Ruggiero, who isn’t much brighter than you are, not to meet her in Sorrento. He thought no way would she snoop on him; she was in love.” Hank laughed derisively. “Like hell she was in love. Not with him. Not with anyone.

“I followed her to Sorrento, searched her room, still no book, so I caught her at the pool and dumped her over. The book was in the pocket of her robe. Just like I thought, it had notes on what we’d said, those and some stupid poetry. So with Paolina dead and the book in my hands, the problem was solved, or would have been if Carolyn hadn’t kept sticking her nose in when Constanza almost had everyone convinced it was suicide. She probably thought she was protecting Ruggiero.”

He snickered, which brought on his cough, but as soon as he mentioned Carolyn, I started toward him so he had to keep looking at me. “D-did you kill Ruggiero too?” I stammered.

“Sure. Once the general showed up, I couldn’t trust Ruggiero not to try for a plea bargain by implicating me.” His mouth pulled into a cruel line, and he said, “Enough talking. Are you jumping, Bianca? If not, lie down. Right now.”

“I can’t lie down! In my condition, it looks like four miles to the ground. And I certainly can’t lie on my stomach. Look at it.” And keep looking at it, I thought. Don’t look at Carolyn. “Are you really going to kill a woman carrying a baby? It’s almost ready to be born. It’s got fingers and toes and feelings and—”

“Shut up!” he snarled, and tried to take a step forward. Carolyn rolled out of the way as he fell, flinging out his arms in a futile attempt to maintain his balance. Still coughing, he rocketed headfirst into the rock behind my back. If he’d been shorter, he’d have missed the rock and hit the ground, but he was a very large man.

Carolyn had jumped immediately to her feet and was running toward him. “Tied his shoelaces together,” she said, kneeling beside him. “I can’t believe it worked.”

I got the giggles. Hysterical giggles. Tied his shoelaces together? That was something children did to each other. But I could see the blood leaking out from under his head. Still, what if he was conscious? With great difficulty I leaned over to pick up a rock, which I’d drop on his head if I had to, but then I wasn’t able to straighten up. I could have cried.

“He’s unconscious,” she said. I turned my head sideways to see her rolling his eyelid up. Then she felt for a pulse and said, “But still alive.” She glanced at me—bent over, clutching my rock in one hand, and trying to push myself up with the other. “What are you doing, Bianca?”

“The weapon was a good idea. I don’t see his gun anywhere.” Looking worried, she glanced at Hank, then walked over to me and hauled me upright.

I was astounded. “Everyone in Italy has a cell phone. In a few years I’ll be getting one for the baby.” I patted my stomach.

“Maybe he has one,” said Carolyn, looking down at Hank. “On the other hand, maybe we don’t want the police here. They might put us in jail and let him loose. I guess I’d better untie his shoelaces. That way it will look like he fell naturally.”

We both heard a car whoosh past and looked nervously toward the road. The car didn’t stop. “He’s huge, Carolyn,” I pointed out. “There’s no way we can get him to the car, much less into the luggage compartment, which may not be large enough to hold him. It would attract attention if there was a leg hanging out.”

“Or while we’re driving back,” Carolyn agreed. “One of us will have to sit in back with a rock and knock him out again if he regains consciousness.”

“Well, if you can get me in the back seat, I’ll sit on top of him. No way he can get up with me using him for a chair. And I wouldn’t mind hitting him. Actually, maybe we should just roll him off the cliff.”

I groaned. How was I going to get my stomach behind the wheel of the car and still reach the pedals? “I vote we roll him off the cliff and worry about the explanations later.”