Coventina (8 page)

“Have you enough cash?” Denise asked.

“More than enough, yes.”

“I will let you know where we are staying once there,” Denise said.

“So, it can actually fly?”

“Yes Lucilla, and I must admit, Layla is quite the pilot.”

“How long will it take you to get there?”

“Five minutes, five hours, whatever we desire,” Layla laughed.

“To think all of that was happening in Southern Illinois,” Lucilla laughed.

“I think Makanda is the center of our universe,” Denise said.

“Safe journey ladies.”

“If there is anything you need you know how to reach us,” Denise said.

Just think it?

That, or phone,
Layla laughed.

Or email, text, carrier pigeon,
Denise smiled.

“I am so happy I met you. I must reward my roommate in Carbondale one day for bringing us together.”

“We’ll see you in Rome.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Oh yes, our room is still paid for until tomorrow if any of the boys need some privacy,” Layla said.

“You never know, thanks again.”

Denise and Layla returned to the Mustang and drove off, disappearing around a curve in the narrow street.

“Where is Quintus?” Marcus asked.

“Uhm, he had a rather sleepless night so he asked to be dropped off at the hotel to rest and make arrangements for our transportation tomorrow.”

“Where are we going?”

“Rome.”

“Rome? Really?”

“Yes. Now before we make our way back to the hotel I would like to take some pictures of all of you standing by that incredibly impressive column.”

“Is this good?” Marcus asked, standing in the middle with two men on each side.

“Yes, but some smiles would be nice,” Lucilla said.

“Men, guess where we are going tomorrow?” Marcus asked.

“Upstairs?” Lucius asked.

“Yes, but just for a ride to our destination.”

“And what might that be?” Venutius said.

“Rome.”

Lucilla’s shutter clicked recording images of five happy looking men.

“Rome,” she sighed quietly before walking over to the men to snap an image of her standing with them, in front of a twenty two foot tall Roman Column, over the very site they started their journey so very long ago.

Via Della Magliana

It was still daylight when the Mustang touched down on Via Delle Ildrovore Della Magliana. The clear graying sky above reached out to the orange sunset as Layla brought them out of stealth mode before they exited the car.

“Look at this place. This all happened in broad daylight and only one person saw their possessions being discarded?” Layla said.

“Apparently,” Denise said. “It was someone from that office building right over there.”

“They saw them get tossed here, into this weeded area?”

“So the story goes. The taxi, they said, looked full, with four passengers in the back seat. Two men and two women.”

“Then they had to stop somewhere along the way to pick up the other men by this point.”

“They picked them up right here on this off road,” Denise said.

“How can you be sure?”

“I’ve seen it happen. Once you touched down. The white taxi continued down this road after stopping quickly to dump their luggage. They must have thought no one would see them here because of those trees.”

“That, or they simply did not give a shit if they were seen. These are not going to be nice people if we ever catch up to them,” Layla said.

“If?”

“Okay, when we catch up to them.”

“That’s it, think positive.”

“Come on, let’s continue up this drive a ways before it gets dark,” Layla suggested.

“This is just an industrial looking area.”

“We may not speak the language, but it looks seedy and like a great area to avoid if you are a tourist, especially a woman,” Layla said.

“Wait, stop,” Denise said. “We don’t have much daylight remaining. Turn left here.”

Layla proceeded down a drive that was lined with covered fences that would block the view of anyone working in the buildings behind them.

“They changed vehicles here. They rushed them into a black mini van with dark windows. They were bound and gagged by this time,” Denise said.

“Shall I continue up this drive?” Layla asked, stopping the car.

“No, let’s get out of here and go find a hotel.”

Layla spun the Mustang around and headed back the way they came, and then out on the Via Della Magliana that would take them to an assortment of other roads leading to the heart of Rome.

“There are no roads straight to anything here,” Denise giggled. “It’s not like Carbondale or Chicago. Let’s stay at the Best Western President Hotel. It is closest to all the ancient sites. Give the lads an easy chance to mingle for mates.”

“Mingle for mates? Haaaaa.”

“Yes. You must admit this is beyond impressive.”

“Indeed it is. I am ready for some food and a nice hot shower,” Layla said.

“I say we book rooms for us and tomorrow’s guests. Park this baby. Put it in ‘If you try to steal me you got to be kidding’ mode, and take a taxi to eat.”

“Perfect. Maybe we’ll be lucky enough to get a driver who speaks English and knows where all the pimps and lowlifes hang out.”

“Now you’re talking,” Denise laughed.

They checked in to the Best Western Hotel, reserving rooms with the same configuration they had in York. “If any of them finds a nice girl they want to, you know, have some privacy with, we’ll get them their own room,” Denise said.

“Honey. They were warriors. Conquerors. Raping and pillaging was something they refined to an art form,” Layla laughed. “I’m pretty sure they might not care about getting it on in from of buddies after not having a woman for so long.”

“I never thought about it that way. Come on. The parking lot is not in this building.”

They parked the Mustang in the lot and set the security system on it nearly to maximum.

“Okay, you hail a taxi for us,” Layla said.

“You mean cause I am like from a big city?”

“I’ve never taken a taxi.”

“Seriously? This is a first for you, and an first for you in Rome?”

“I’m kind of a hick,” Layla laughed.

Denise planted a kiss on her cheek. “I love hicks.”

“Hey, let’s be a couple of dudes for the ride.”

“Good idea.”

They activated the medallions allowing them to change their appearance that the crew of the Tyrine left with them. In an instant each of them was looking at a very handsome male with black hair.

“Whattaya say we go get us something to eat then go look for some whores?” Layla said.

Denise could not stop laughing. “Sounds good to me,” she managed to get out between laughs. She hailed a taxi and they got in.

“Just somewhere for some good pasta,” Denise said.

“There is a place near here. La Carbonara. Excellent food. Been here forever and they don’t try to rip off tourists,” the driver said.

“Sounds good,” Denise said.

“I heard it is easy to find a prostitute in Rome,” Layla said, cutting to the chase.

“Harry, prostitution is illegal, you know that,” Denise said.

“Yes Dick, I know but a guy can dream can’t he?” Layla smiled.

Dick. My name is Dick?
Denise said.

Goes well with Harry don’t you think?

Harry Dick. Dear Goddess.

“Well we don’t have Attenzione Prostitute warning signs here in Rome, but every taxi driver knows where the prostitutes are.”

“You speak great English. What’s your name?” Denise asked.

“I am Paulo Dick,” he answered.

“Can you spin us by a few areas where they hang out before we go to eat?” Denise asked.

“If you wish. Many will be out now that it is dark.”

Before we eat?
Layla sighed.

It’s just a spin.

Paulo drove them through a few areas where the streets were crowded with ladies of the night looking for business.

“It is painful to see the state that many of these women are in,” Paulo said.

“Yeah. Some of them look like they could kick my ass,” Layla laughed.

I doubt it.

“Where can you go find a woman off the street? Are there any brothels or upper crust bordellos?” Denise asked.

“Of course. Every major city in the world has them Dick.”

“You don’t have to show us but could you tell us where some of them are for another day?”

“We’ll make it worth your while,” Layla said, holding up a hundred dollar bill.

Paulo pulled over to the curb and opened his glove box for something to write on. “If you ask the women on the street they won’t tell you, they want your business and your money.” These are the six best bordellos in Rome. They are safe, to customers at least from what I have heard, but a few are apparently not nice to the women working there, all of whom are very attractive and appear to be from all over the world.”

“Could you put an X next to those please?” Denise said.

“Yes I can Dick, but they may not like clients getting rough with the girls.”

Layla rolled the window down for more fresh air. “What about those girls up ahead, are they working?”

“Harry, if you see a woman standing around and smiling or lifting her skirt or even dressed as they are, they are working. Be careful though when around the girls on the street.”

“Why is that?”

“The men who control them and exploit them for the money they earn is why. Many of them are ruthless, most not Italian at all but from assorted Eastern European shit holes.”

“I see.”

“Here you are Dick,” Paulo said, handing the list to Denise. “Have you seen enough gentlemen?”

“Yes Paulo, please take us to the restaurant if you would?” Denise said.

When they slowly passed the second group of women up the dark street, Layla watched as a man slapped one of the women so hard she fell to the ground. “Hey, leave her alone!” she shouted out the window. Paulo slowed the car nearly to a stop when he heard her shout thinking something was wrong. The man who struck the woman turned to see who shouted. He took a pistol out of his coat pocket and began speaking to her loudly in Italian.

“What the hell is that guy saying?” Layla asked.

“He is saying to mind your own fucking business or he will blow your nose off,” Paulo said. “We should leave.”

“Okay Paulo, to the restaurant,” Layla said. As he pulled away Layla put her arm out the window and sent the man flying into a parked car with such force he collapsed on the ground moaning in pain.

Blow my nose off hey?

Let’s go eat a good dinner. I have a feeling you are going to see a lot of faces belonging to assholes you want to smash before this is over.

Paulo dropped them off on Via Panisperna. “Thank you for everything Paulo,” Denise said, handing him a hundred dollar bill.

“Gracie Dick. Enjoy your dinner. Enjoy your stay in Rome.”

“We will, thank you.”

The place did not look like a restaurant from the outside. The inside however embraced them with the luscious smell of Italian food. Before they went inside they changed back to themselves. They were directed to a table for two along the wall. They kept it simple and ordered spaghetti with meatballs.

Denise discovered that she could make out many words being spoken in Italian after her newly acquired knowledge of Latin.

“I’m stuffed now. This food is amazing,” Layla said.

“Ladies, would you care for dessert?” the waitress asked.

“If we only had room after this amazing meal. Tell me, is it easy to get a taxi once we leave?” Denise said.

“If you are ready to leave we will call one for you. They get here quickly.”

“Would you please, we are ready for the check?”

Once again Denise left a generous tip and they stepped outside to find a taxi waiting.

“Straight to the Best Western President Hotel please,” Layla said.

The driver could barely speak English. Denise decided to try something as they zipped through the dark streets back to the hotel. “Quid tempestates ponatur in crastinum?”

“Qual è il tempo dovrebbe essere come domain? Wuesto é meglio Italiano,” the driver smiled.

“You understood what I said. Did you study Latin or did you just know being Italian?”

“Si, I have study Latin. Much Romans have study Latin. But, to speak Italian you can figure out mostly,” he said.

“Gracie.”

The taxi came to a quick stop in front of the hotel. Denise paid adding a nice tip and they made it up to their room.

“Did you notice if the shower was big enough for two?” Denise asked when they were on the elevator.

“Does it matter?” Layla grinned.

In the morning they still felt full from the late dinner and made their way to a nearby McDonald’s for a few Café Mocha’s. “I was unaware it would be impossible to find a Starbucks in Italy,” Denise said.

“I bet they have their own pretty good coffee places wouldn’t you think?”

“I can’t think yet. I need coffee,” Denise squinted.

“Oh baby do you ever.”

Drinks in hand, Denise directed Layla back to the scene of the crime, in hopes of seeing the person who watched as the suitcases were tossed.

“Think we’ll have any luck?” Layla asked.

“Oh yeah. We will get an interview.”

The Mustang pulled up in the driveway to PPL Worldwide, stopped at the gate and waited.

“Push the button, time’s a wasting,” Denise said.

Layla pushed the button. The woman’s voice spoke Italian. “Possum adiuvare vos?”

“Hello, does anyone speak English?” Denise said, leaning towards the driver window.

“You can rest your head on my shoulder if you like,” Layla whispered.

“Yes. Can I help you?”

“We would like to see Raphaela Strutto please?”

“Proceed through the gate. Someone will meet you at the large doors.”

“Gracie.” Layla said.

The thick gate opened and Layla drove back to the large doors as instructed.

The door opened and a security guard walked over to the car. “You will excuse us for taking these precautions, but we had some men create a disturbance two days ago trying to get in. They too wanted to speak with Raphaela,” he said. “May I see some identification please?”