Conor Fitzgerald - The Namesake

It was a description, no doubt out of date, of the protocol for making contact with an ’ndrina that did not know you. Was that Konrad’s plan?

Q. Are you a wolf, a bee or a goat dropping?

A. I am a wolf who will devour you, a bee who will sting you, and a goat dropping that follows you.

Q. Do you walk, sir, above the road or below it?

A. I walk both above and below the road, for I am an artful scoundrel.

‘Oh, no you’re not, Konrad,’ muttered Blume. He flicked through till his eyes landed on more marking by Konrad, this time at the top of the story of Osso, Carcagnosso and Matrosso. Blume knew the legend. It was just the sort of thing an impressionable German like Konrad..

His phone, his real one, not the one supplied by Massimiliani, was ringing. Wearily, he got off the bed, half hoping it would stop before he got there, knowing full well who it would be. He hesitated; the caller, Caterina of course, was insistent; she was in a fury with him by the time he answered.

‘Apart from everything else,’ said Caterina, following up her long opening sentence in which she had called him a coward, a sneak, an infame, a liar, childish, stubborn and uncaring, ‘you are a fool.’

Now would be a good time to put down the phone, thought Blume, but then Caterina mentioned she had been to see Magistrate Arconti.

‘He’s talking, and he’s talking about you. He’s also talking about a mysterious confession made by Curmaci’s wife.’

‘Ah,’ said Blume.

‘Captain Massimiliano Massimiliani appreciated the subterfuge. Is that what you want, to earn the approval of people like him?’

‘What’s wrong with him? You haven’t even met him.’

‘Massimiliani’s father was involved in the Borghese coup attempt.’

‘That was his father,’ said Blume with an authority he did not own, since Caterina’s revelation was news to him.

‘But you didn’t know that, did you? You were so anxious to get away and play boy soldiers that you did not even question him, look him up or check him out like I did. Since when do you trust some creep from SISDE or AIMI or whatever they call themselves these days?’

‘He’s probably listening, you know.’

‘Yeah, I can smell him from here,’ said Caterina. ‘Did he give you a Masonic handshake, Alec? What lodge will you be joining, P3, P4, the Circle of the Illuminated Thieves?’

‘Now you’re exaggerating. Maybe Italy needs people like him now,’ said Blume.

‘No, it doesn’t, but people like him need errant fools like you to follow their directions. Gallivanting about as if anyone would ever take you seriously. A middle-aged homicide cop pretending to be fifteen years younger and playing at secret agent.’

‘You can’t talk to me like that.’

‘Shut up, Alec. I mean… shut up. Christ. Put this right or forget about me ever speaking to you again.’

‘Put what right?’

‘You’ve put that woman’s life in danger, just to place yourself at the centre of an affair that does not properly concern you. Tell Massimiliani to deal with it differently and you come home. But first, make sure that woman and the people around there don’t get hurt.’

‘So you think she deserves help, sheltering her criminal husband, nurturing criminal children, hanging out with other criminal women, the sorelle d’omerta as they call themselves, perpetuating the Society, obstructing inquiries, intimidating the few good citizens left? Whatever bad comes to her, she had coming.’

‘Including death? You’d be all right with that?’

‘If she dies, it won’t be by my hand, but by the hand of someone she knows, someone who will have more innocent blood than hers on his conscience. Someone whose murdering of innocent people she accepted, hid and respected.’

‘Alec,’ said Caterina, disorienting him by suddenly softening her tone, ‘you don’t have to talk tough like that to me. I know you.’

‘Then you should know these are my opinions.’

‘No, they are not. And even if they are, I happen to know your opinions don’t always match your feelings.’

‘I hate it when you try and persuade yourself that I am what you would like me to be. Next time I fail to live up to your expectations, don’t come looking for me.’

In the old days when he was receiving the silent treatment from a girl on the phone, he used to be able to hear the pops, gurgles and whooshing sound of the telegraph wires punctuated by the sighs and breaths and involuntary voiced murmurs that allowed him to judge the mood and seriousness of his soon-to-be-ex-girlfriend on the end of the line. But digital technology, the source of much evil in the world, he felt, had killed that, too. A high-pitched whine just within his audible range suggested the connection was still live, but the silence from the other side was total. He could not analyse her silences or anticipate her responses. Or maybe it was just Caterina and digital phones had nothing to do with it.

‘How’s your head?’ she asked eventually.

‘My head?’

‘Yes, Alec, your head. The large hairy thing full of evil thoughts that sticks out of your collar. The part of you that aches and talks about itself all the time.’

‘Fine. Mostly. I was on my way to a headache twice today, but it passed both times.’

‘When will you be home?’

‘I don’t know and I can’t say. Maybe as soon as tomorrow.’

‘I hope so.’

After he had hung up and stuffed his phone under the pillow, Blume found he was unable to banish his thoughts, concentrate or properly distract his mind. In the end he read the story of Osso, Matrosso and Carcagnosso, until he felt his eyes close.

The Three Knights

© Domenech K. amp; Nistico G., 2007. Die Heldenunternehmungen der drei Ritter. Vorwort In Lange Kunst Vol I (3): 3-15. Frankfurt. Germany. Fachverlag Klett-Vauk.

In that place where now stands the Mosque of Al-Asqa in the sacred city of Jerusalem, a band of warriors, founded by twenty-five good men who took up arms only with reluctance, established their seat of command. The band was known as the Poor Fellow-Soldiers of Christ and of the Temple of Solomon. We remember them today as the Knights Templar.

They wore snow-white mantles displaying a scarlet cross, symbol of our Saviour Jesus Christ, symbol also of their faith and their fair-dealing in business and of their readiness to afford protection, even at the cost of blood, for those who had the humility and wisdom to seek their help. Even when their help was not sought directly, the knights sacrificed their own comfort to protect the pilgrims travelling to the Holy Land across desert kingdoms under the cruel and heathen rule of Islam.

The first Grand Master of the Order was Hugh De Paysn, cousin and vassal of the Count of Champagne; the second-in-command was Goffredo di Saint Omer. The committee in charge was made up of nine Knights, all of whom had taken a vow of poverty. They defended the Latin states of Edessa, Antioch, Tripoli and the Kingdom of Jerusalem, conquered by the valour of Franks and Normans. The Knights Templar were officially recognized as an Order of the Church by Pope Innocent II in 1139. This Pope, from the Papareschi family in Rome, grew up in Trastevere where he founded a church now called Santa Maria, a place that has remained holy through the ages.

The Knights Templar continued for about 150 more years until, on Friday 13 October, 1307 Clement V ordered the dissolution of the Order and the arrest of the members. Dozens of Knights Templar were burned at the stake in Paris.

The surviving knights dispersed and fled to all corners of the world. Three blessed brother Knights fated to live an accursed life, Osso, Matrosso and Carcagnosso, travelled together, and on the road they met a tall man with a diamond where his left eyeball should have been. The man, an ageless descendant of Balqis, Queen of Sheba, gave them spools of magical thread. Anyone who touched the threads and looked upon another man would see into the blackness of his heart, and anyone who touched the threads and looked up to the sky would see all the evil deeds mankind had yet to commit. For, as the Jews believe and as it is written in the Targum Sheni to the Book of Esther, the fabrics of the land of Balqis were spun from the fibres of plants that date from the Creation and were watered by a river that ran from the Garden of Eden.