Susan Anderson - Death Of A Sad Face

“Nonsense! There is no specter, and I’m disappointed. I thought you were able to see what other children could not see. Teo might be different, but we’re all different. Each of us is an enigma. How do you expect to make music if you don’t celebrate the mystery of others?”

Her reverie faded. Serafina stopped her pacing and sat in her mother’s favorite chair, wondering how she could have been a better example for her children. Was her little liaison with Dr. Loffredo somehow responsible for their willfulness? She pushed away the thought.

Suddenly there was the smell of lavender and orange peel, a puff of smoke and Maddalena, the ghost of her mother, appeared, looking fresh and full of youth and life. She wore her green velvet gown and wrinkled her nose.

“You’re sitting in my chair!”

“Honestly, Mama, sit on the bed if you must. Unless you are prepared to help, I don’t have time for this, not this evening. We’re going to the circus, and I’ve got to catch a killer!” Serafina rose and sat on the bed as her mother maneuvered her way into her chair.

“Send for Badali. You’ll need him,” her mother said.

“Is that all you’ve got to say? You’re worse than Mother Concetta.”

“Don’t speak ill of my friend! I’m loyal, which is more than I can say about Maria. I’ll see what I can do about her, but I can’t promise. Oh, and don’t forget to talk to the wet nurse.”

With that, Maddalena vanished.

“Impossible!” Serafina said, then sat back down in her mother’s chair. After she had digested her mother’s words, she went to the desk and scribbled a note to Badali, a carabiniere who’d helped her in the past.

On the landing, Serafina remembered her mother’s directive and retraced her steps. She opened the door to the nursery and greeted the wet nurse, pecking her on both cheeks.

“What time did Teo leave last night?”

The nurse arranged her pendulous bosoms and spoke, eyes closed, bandana canted to one side. “The moon were a golden orb over the sea. It rose, shimmering, and when it were at its zenith …” Here she paused, opened her eyes, stared at Serafina. “… Teo kissed his brother goodbye and departed.”

With that, the last piece fell into place in Serafina’s mind, and she took a moment to finalize her plans. Swallowing her fears, she walked downstairs and asked her factotum to deliver her note to Captain Badali.

Early Thursday evening, October 29, 1868

As she entered the dining room, she saw the upturned faces of her children, smiling and expectant, except for Maria who hunched over her score. Rosa and her daughter, Tessa had arrived. All were gathered around the table.

“About time,” Rosa said. She wore her purple velvet and matching pillbox with feathers.

“We’re going to the circus!” Totò, her youngest, said.

“Right you are, my brightest boy!” Serafina kissed him and sat. After the domestic served a light supper- pasta con le sarde and squid salad-she stood, about to detail her plan, when she was interrupted by a knock at the door. Vicenzu ran to open it.

A blast of cool air brought Captain Badali into the dining room, removing his three-cornered hat and greeting everyone. His eyes locked onto Carmela’s, whose cheeks reddened. Lovely, Serafina thought. Vicenzu helped the captain to his seat, poured his wine, and filled his plate.

“No interruptions, please,” Serafina said, “while I tell you our plans for this evening. After supper, Carmela, you ride with the children and don’t leave their side. Rosa, Vicenzu, Badali and I will follow in another carriage, and we’ll meet in front of the big tent and sit together.”

The children nodded. Totò grabbed an olive from Tessa’s plate and grinned, whispering, “We’re going to the circus!”

“Shhh!” someone said.

“Vicenzu, bring Papa’s stiletto.”

Serafina glanced at Badali whose eyes rounded.

“We’ll enter and sit together until the circus begins, when Vicenzu, the captain, Rosa and I will leave for a short while, returning in time to watch the finale.”

“Tell us what this is all about,” Rosa said as the carriage wheels spun through the piazza and down via Serpentina on the way to Barco’s Circus.

Serafina told Vicenzu and Badali about the pink strand of fabric she’d found in the Lanza entryway, probably from the costume of a performer.

Rosa scowled. “We know all that. Hurry up and finish with your story, I smell elephants.”

As they pulled into the road leading to the tents, Serafina told them what she’d learned about Cecco and Roberto from talking to Lucia, her maid, and Mother Concetta.

Rosa hung onto her hat and rolled with the coach. “What makes you think that Roberto works in Barco’s circus? That Teo is with him? That Roberto killed Cecco?”

“It’s impossible to argue with my mother when she has that look in her eye,” Vicenzu said.

“Two events happened simultaneously: Roberto shot Cecco, and Teo left our home. Lucia told me that she’d heard a shot when the moon was high in the sky and saw a cloaked figure ‘leap away into the night’; the wet nurse said Teo left ‘when the moon were at its zenith.’ I think what happened is that Roberto collided with Teo. He thought the boy had witnessed his flight, so he kidnapped him. How else would Teo have vanished so quickly?”

“By taking a train or a boat,” Rosa said and rolled her eyes. The madam was silent for a moment. “Still, I’ve learned to live with the leaps of a wizard.”

The two carriages parked close to each other in a large field adjacent to the big top and Serafina’s party moved through the throng toward the tent to take their seats. Lions roared in the distance. Clowns stood on the sidelines holding dancing bears or monkeys or parrots. People shouted to one another. Someone pushed Rosa, who elbowed the offender.

After they took their seats, Totò and Tessa clapped. Maria smiled. Someone blew a whistle, and the gaslights dimmed. “Ladies and gentleman!” the announcer intoned. A hush fell over the crowd.

Serafina swallowed. The moment had arrived. She gave the signal and quietly and with bowed heads, the foursome moved silently out of the row, down the aisle, and out of the big tent.

Barco stood outside the entrance, a ringmaster’s whip in hand. A ball of a man, short and round, he dressed in the only garb Serafina had ever seen him wear: overalls, a tattered shirt stained with sweat, red tails, a top hat with bald patches.

“Haven’t seen you since Giorgio’s funeral. Leaving so soon?” He tipped his hat to the women.

Serafina said, “We want to see Roberto.”

Barco narrowed his brows. “Since it’s you, Donna Fina, go right ahead.” He waved an arm in the direction of a tent in the middle distance. “You’ll find him over there, him and his trapeze. Gets special treatment, does our Roberto, his own tent. Comes and goes as he pleases. Works all over Europe, but he’s here tonight, and the crowd will go wild, mark me. Flies through the air, somersaulting like a specter. Best tumbler I ever seen. Good for business, I tell you. I got the big tent packed every night, even Mondays. Roberto has his duds made for him in Paris, and this time, brought his own little shoemaker with him.” He pulled on a chain and looked at his watch. “Goes on in a few minutes. Better hurry!”

The group walked down the narrow path that led to the acrobat’s tent. Vicenzu looked at Badali; Rosa for once said nothing; and Serafina, praying to the Madonna, gripped the handle of Giorgio’s stiletto.

Vicenzu opened the flap to Roberto’s tent, and the four entered, splitting up to search. Serafina breathed fetid air, doubtless caused by several torches giving off a foul smoke. In one corner, Teo sat, tied to a chair. He was gagged, his shirt and pantaloons torn.