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The priest concluded the ceremony and a teary Roberto rose from his chair, placed a red rose on the casket, and kissed its grain. His strapping son, Patrizio, did the same, bereft, and Franco felt a stab ofsympathy for him, seeing himself in a boy devoted to his mother. Elvira and his daughters sobbed quietly. Franco comforted them with pats, and they looked up at him with loving smiles.
The Maresca women came forward, weeping too theatrically for Franco’s taste. Bruna’s mother collapsed over the coffin, demonstrating where her daughter had gotten her insatiable need for attention. Her fingers had to be pried off the casket, and her sisters walked her away sobbing, leaving behind a stoic Don Bruno, who struck Franco as looking like a man who made his living underground. His eyes were slit like a mole’s, his nose was pointed, and his hair thinned to mouse-gray. His form was small and round in a brand-new waistcoat, and Franco hoped never to see him or his horrible family again.
The mourners dispersed, and Franco returned to Elvira and the children, helping them to the carriage. Roberto and Patrizio went with them. The carriage waited for Franco while he paid the priest, the undertaker, the florists, and the extra mourners, then made sure his guests found their carriages and headed to his villa for lunch.
In time, only Franco and Don Bruno were left, standing uncomfortably side-by-side, each seeing to the last of his family. Franco was about to go, then turned to Don Bruno with a polite smile. “Don Bruno, I’ll see you at the house.”
Don Bruno clutched his arm. “Don Franco, you fooled your brother. But you don’t fool me.”
CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
“Dante, please come in.” Baron Pisani stood behind his desk, across from a man sitting in a chair. The man had round brown eyes and a warm smile. His dark, wavy hair silvered at the temples, and he wore a fine cravat with a brown frock coat. Baron Pisani gestured to him. “Please meet Signore Gaetano Catalano, a lawyer.”
Dante was about to greet him but Signore Catalano leapt up with enthusiasm, grabbed Dante, and hugged him.
“Thank God! I’m so happy to see you, Dante!”
Dante stiffened. “Uh, I’m happy to meet you, Signore.”
“Call me Gaetano, please!” Gaetano released him, beaming. Tears glistened in his eyes. “What a handsome young man you are! God, it’s good to see you!”
Dante didn’t understand. “Do I... know you?”
“No! We’ve never met, but I’ve wanted to meet you for a very long time. I’m just so happy.” Gaetano took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his eyes. “So very, very happy.”
Dante hadn’t known you could cry from happiness, but didn’t say so.
They settled down, taking their seats, and Baron Pisani cleared his throat. “Dante, I’m going to come directly to the point. The other day, you asked me why you’re here. The truth is, you’re not mad and you never have been.”
“I’m not?” Dante felt stunned. So Lucia had been right. “But my delusions? The biting?”
“I’m sorry to say, they’re theresultof your being here, not the cause.” Baron Pisani’s brow furrowed under his curls. “Living here for so long, being treated so inhumanely,causedthem and your other behavior.”
Dante couldn’t collect his thoughts.
“Gaetano knows how you got here, so I’m going to let him explain.”
Gaetano turned to Dante, his eyes wet but his smile gone. “You were kidnapped when you were five or six years old, taken from the Festival of Saint Rosalia. I’ve been searching for you, and one of your kidnappers confessed to me that you were here.”
Dante recoiled, shocked. “Someone kidnapped me?”
“Yes, two people, I believe. One took you from the festival, and the other imprisoned you here.”
Dante reeled. “Why?”
“Someone must’ve paid them to.”
“Who?”
“That, we don’t know.”
“And they put me here, in the madhouse?”
“Yes, the man who kept you here, who perpetrated a fraud on the administration, was a guard named Renzo Gentili.”
Renzo. Dante shuddered. “I know that name.”
“What do you remember?”
