Susan Anderson - Death Of A Sad Face

Serafina rushed to him. “Let’s get you out of here!” Using the stiletto, she tore the gag and sliced his ropes.

Freed, Teo pointed. “Up there!”

Serafina could barely see Roberto in the smoky light as she raised her head to the top of the tent, where a thick rope hung to the ground, and beside it, swinging slightly, a trapeze. On it, Roberto hung upside down. His strong legs and feet wound around the bar. And the enormous muscles of his back bent upward so that he faced Teo and Serafina. His hair hung loose. His eyes bore holes in Serafina. On his feet were thin-soled shoes, and in his outstretched hands, a revolver aimed at Teo.

From the other side, Badali shouted, “Down on the ground. Now!”

“Move and I shoot the boy,” Roberto said.

Unnoticed by the acrobat and silent as a cat, Rosa walked in back of Roberto and grabbed the end of the rope.

“Over here!” Vicenzu cried from the shadows.

Caught off guard, Roberto turned, pointing the gun at Badali, twisting again, and leveling the gun at Vicenzu who was a short distance away from the carabiniere and moving toward Rosa.

Serafina spirited Teo toward the entrance. But seeing her escape, Roberto swung the revolver back and forth between Serafina and Badali, now running toward him.

“You’re surrounded! Give up, and come down from there,” Badali said.

Serafina stopped and turned to the trapeze artist. “We know you killed Cecco!”

Roberto jumped up to a standing position on the bar, his gun following Serafina and Teo. “His death was instant. I gave him peace.”

But Rosa, who’d taken the rope in both hands, shook it, sending rippling waves up and down its length, catching the acrobat off guard, and pitching him and his trapeze from side to side. Then she ran to join Serafina, the plumes of her hat wafting in the heavy air.

Instead of falling, the acrobat leapt off the bar in a graceful arc, soaring to a great height before somersaulting and righting himself to land on both feet. Waving his gun, he corralled the five. “Watch this young man die.”

He aimed his gun at Teo.

“Don’t shoot!” Serafina yelled, hiding Teo in the folds of her voluminous skirts.

It seemed as if they stood fixed forever in a tableau she’d designed, Roberto in the center of their doomed semicircle. Serafina’s heart pounded. They’d be killed, and she was to blame. Her children and Tessa would be orphans, and all because of her own pride and foolhardiness, her wish to outshine Colonna. She shielded Teo as she had on that fateful day by the sea, trembling, wishing she could turn back time. Roberto aimed for her, his arms gripping the gun, strong and steady. He cocked the hammer. Slowly his finger began to squeeze the trigger.

Serafina stared at him, waiting for her own death, when she felt a giant suck of wind as Barco who suddenly appeared, cracked his whip. It wrapped around the acrobat’s throat, and the revolver tumbled to the ground.