He lies on the Jester's cart - 23 pt.3
- I don’t understand, were they fighting? - I ask with a whimper.
- They were fighting. And the fight was resolved. With a winner, I’d say.
The words hit like a punch in the stomach. He places a hand on my shoulder and leans over me.
- Sorry, I was being an asshole. Sometimes, stuff like that just slips out. I’m sorry.
My eyes are full of tears, but I shake my head.
- It’s fine.
- Open this email, please.
He points at the screen, indicating a few lines below where we’re looking now.
The email is from Prosud. The subject is Convocation.
It’s from the CEO’s secretary. It’s a notice for an extraordinary shareholders’ meeting. The date of the meeting is the day after Marzio’s death.
- What’s happening? - I ask, scared. I knew nothing about this—Marzio never told me anything about this.
- Family business, it seems. Strange stuff.
I turn to him. He’s jotting something in his notebook.
- Do you know what’s going on?
- I have an idea that’s becoming clearer, piece by piece. - He doesn’t lift his eyes from his notes.
I’m afraid. I feel like things are slipping out of my hands. I feel like I know something important, and I feel like talking about it is wrong. I remember exactly what the girl on the phone told me. I mustn’t talk about it with anyone. No one. But I can’t keep it to myself—I don’t know how to use this information on my own. I look at him. He’s absorbed in his notebook, writing, crossing things out, and drawing lines. And I feel there’s a reason he stepped out of that elevator at that moment. I need to get rid of this weight. I need to share it with someone before it crushes me. Even if it puts me in danger? Even if it puts her in danger? Even if it undermines Marzio’s efforts to save me? To save himself?
- What is it?
I’m staring at him. He looks back at me, and I lower my eyes.
- What is it? - He asks more insistently.
I look at Marzio—he’s close by, his face dark, staring into the void. He’s so close that if I stretched out my hand, I might be able to touch him. You’re so close, Marzio, that if I focused, maybe I could smell you, your scent.
- What aren’t you telling me? - He presses. - I recognize that look from a mile away.
I curl into myself.
- It’s nothing. I was just thinking about him.
- Bullshit.
- It’s not bullshit. - My voice is whiny. Why do I do everything to sound like a two-year-old?
- Yes, it is. You know something you want to say, but you’re not sure whether to say it or not.
- What? - I look at him, surprised.
- Look, it’s simple. I figured it out right away. That’s why you’re here in this room. I chose to trust you. I did that by exposing myself. If you’re here with me and doing this. - He gestures broadly, indicating the house - If we’re in here together and not just me alone, it’s because I chose to trust you. Because I believe you’re a good person, trying to understand what happened to the guy you loved, and you’re doing it in good faith. I believed in you. Now you need to believe in me. You have to believe that what you tell me will help nail the person who killed your Marzio.
He watches me in silence.
It’s a thin veil of ice covering my face, and it only takes a breath to shatter it. He presses both hands onto it with force, pushing into my cheeks, sending blood to my temples. It wraps around me like a red snake, covering my eyes, and a cloudy film drops over them, making everything gray and uniform. The contrast fades until the overwhelming sea of my thoughts leaves only a faded image of a placid lake, ready to explode. It’s like a sharp point drawing closer, building tension until it releases a burst that shatters this imperfect stillness, melting me into a liquid memory on the floor.
His touch on my shoulder breaks the spell.
Reality is more solid than my thoughts, and I crash into it helplessly. Nothing happens. No glorious explosion, no disintegration of my body as I had wished. I remain motionless and weak under the weight of my own flesh. None of it leaves me, even though I desire it so intensely. It all continues until my lips begin to move on their own.
- There’s someone. His name is Ligresti. He’s a finance expert. Somehow, he’s connected to all of this. I don’t know how or why, but I know he’s involved. - I stare into the void.
- How do you know about this person?
- I can’t tell you.
- This isn’t going well.
- I can’t. - I say, lowering my head.
- Tell me something else.
- He works for Solar Finanziaria or something like that, in Luxembourg.
- Solar Finanziaria?
- Solar Financial.
- He knows Marzio’s brother. They have connections.
- How do you know?
- I called, and they mistook me for the brother’s secretary. - He writes something in his black notebook. - I tried calling him, but his phone is off. From what I understood, he’s in Italy.
- And he’s not answering, then?
- The phone’s off.
He closes the notebook and nods.
- I see. Thanks for telling me. - I nod without looking at him. - I just got an idea to speed things up.
He pulls out his phone and selects a number from his contacts. He holds the phone to his ear. After a moment, someone answers.
- Olivieri. Here we go. Still at work? - He pauses. - Listen, I’ve got something for you. But you can’t do anything with it for two days. - He steps away toward the windows. - Yes, yes, I get it, but I don’t care about ethics or any of that. I do you a favor, you do me a favor. But… - the person on the other end interrupts, but he presses on, - but, but I don’t care. It’s either this way or no way. Got it? - He listens, then continues, - Okay. So, we’re agreed. Get a pen and paper. Write down Ligresti. - He turns to me.
- Livio Ligresti - I say.
- Livio Ligresti. Works at Solar Financial in Luxembourg. Find out everything you can about this guy. Okay, okay. - He straightens up. - And say, say… - He walks quickly toward me and puts the phone on speaker.
- So, the lady finally answered me after a hundred calls - The metallic voice from the phone says. - And then I asked her, ‘So, ma’am, what do you think, about the loss, the boy.’ And she responds in a resigned tone, ‘Marzio had problems, many, and he kept them to himself. He was a lonely, sad, introverted boy, and the losses we’ve faced only made his situation worse.’ So, I ask her, ‘Ma’am, so Marzio was down, he was sad?’ And she says, right off the bat, ‘Yes, unfortunately, almost to the point of depression.’ And then I ask her, ‘So, did you expect something like this?’ And she says, ‘It was a possibility to be considered.’
- Pretty explicit, huh? – says Cardona
- I’d say so. – responds the voice on the phone
- Except, let’s say, it doesn’t match the scenario I have in mind?
- Cardona, you’ve got one hell of a scenario.
- Do your job well, and I’ll tell you about my scenario.
- At your service, Commissioner. We’ll talk tomorrow afternoon.
He ends the call.
I swallow loudly.
I look at him and shake my head.
- You’re full of fear. - he says softly. I remain silent, staring into his eyes. - There’s something to be afraid of in this story, for real. - He straightens up and extends his hand. - I’d offer to take you home, but I know you wouldn’t stay there. - I take his hand. - So, let’s do this. Come to my place. There’s a comfortable couch. I live alone, and maybe we can have another chat if you feel like it. Tomorrow morning, after we’ve had a good rest. What do you say? We’ve got plenty to talk about and do. - He pulls me up from the chair.
- Okay. - I say in a whisper.
I don’t want to be alone tonight.
Copyright © The MaDMan, 2013. All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form without permission.
I think she should definitely stay close to Cardona. This thing is getting very dangerous and very quickly. These shady characters are going to start retaliating soon. Evil hates the truth. Great writing and awesome pictures, Madman.