Vintage Love (114 page)

When Della reached the palace of Prince Sanzio both the old man and Aunt Isobel were following the Roman custom of taking an afternoon siesta. So there was no one to bother her with questions. She went up the broad stairway to the second floor and then some impulse sent her to investigate Irma’s room.

The old house was strangely still as she went along the shadowy corridor and tried the door. It was not locked and she stepped inside. The first thing she noted was that the candle in the great glass bowl before the Madonna was still burning. Guido was showing his devotion to his mistress by seeing the candle flame was kept alive.

Della looked around and saw no change, no indication that anyone but Guido had entered the room. Then she went over to the paneled wall to seek out the hidden door to the maze of secret passages which filled the palace. The last time it had been locked against her. But when she pressed on the panel today it swung back. She cautiously entered the dark, cold passage and then made her way down the stone steps to the level where she had wandered through earlier.

Though the day was warm and sunny it was cold and damp in the hidden passage. She groped her way along and soon found a new corridor and followed it. This led to a short flight of stone steps. She mounted the steps and found herself coming out to a low arched entry to the garden. This was a different part of the garden and there was no walk leading to it directly.

She could see the other section of the well-kept garden from where she stood. In this section the garden had gone mostly to weeds. But she saw evidence of some fresh flower beds being prepared. The new mounds of earth suggested that additional flowers had been planted and were shortly to increase the beauty of the garden.

She stared lazily at the adjoining garden with its row of tall, dark green trees. Then she started back. This time when she came to the place where the passage wound about and broke into two directions, she was unable to find the familiar passage which had led her into the concealed area.

This maze of passages had been installed in more violent days so that no one would be caught in the palace without some means of escape. Raphael had told her that the majority of the majestic palaces of Rome were built with these dark, hidden corridors.

She was now in deep darkness and began to get a feeling of claustrophobia. Suppose she couldn’t find her way back, that she was to be trapped down here! The mere thought of it increased her fears and she realized her heart had taken on a quicker beat. She halted and tried to recall where she might have made a wrong turn. It did not seem possible that she had, yet here she was in a tunnel unfamiliar to her.

Then she heard soft footsteps! Footsteps behind her and coming nearer. A chill ran through her as she speculated whose footsteps they might be!

The footsteps came closer and she drew back against the damp wall waiting for she knew not what. She could still see no one in the near darkness but the sound of footsteps was strangely close!

Then a familiar voice asked querulously, “Is there someone down here?”

With a great feeling of relief she recognized the voice as belonging to the midget Guido. And a moment later he came into view with a candle in his tiny hand highlighting his wizened face.

He stared at her with some annoyance.
“Signorina
Standish! What are you doing here?”

She said, “I knew about the secret panel and the passage. I decided to investigate it.”

Guido glared at her. “Prince Sanzio does not wish anyone to be in these passages.”

“Why not?”

“They are far too dangerous,” he said. “Many of them are in poor repair. The brick roofs could cave in and kill you.”

She had not thought of this before; it was a chilling possibility. She said, “The arch overhead seems solid enough.”

“Appearance means nothing,” the little man said. “It is the dampness which plays havoc with the lime. There is no warning before the bricks come down.”

“I had no idea of the danger,” she apologized. “Also it is good you came along. I have lost my way.”

“That is also easy to do,” Guido said. “And there are openings in the corridor floors at some points, put there by the first builders to trap enemies who might come after them when they were escaping from the house. I know the locations of these drops. But a stranger like yourself could step in one and suffer a six-or seven-foot fall to a sort of dungeon without any avenue of escape.”

“You frighten me more!”

“One man at least fell into one of these holes and it was only years later that his skeleton was found. He was identified by jewelry he’d been wearing.”

“So the secret corrdiors are not in use any longer.”

“They are supposed to be kept locked,” Guido said, his tone still showing a trace of annoyance. “It was through some mistake you were able to enter.”

“I shall not do so again,” she promised. “You have told me enough to be sure of that.”

“Very well,” Guido said sharply. “Follow me and I will get you out of this place.”

She followed the little man, helped by the light from the candle he was carrying. Within a few minutes they had returned to the main passage and the steps which led up to Irma’s room. When they emerged into the missing girl’s bedroom, Della noted that Guido snapped a lock on the panel as he closed it.

Later, when she went down for dinner, Prince Sanzio was waiting in his wheelchair at the foot of the stairway. He at once reprimanded her for her audacity in trying to find her way about in the secret passages. “You were most ill-advised,” he said in his old man’s querulous tones.

“I did not realize the danger,” she told him.

“You could lose your life in there,” he said.

“Guido explained it to me,” she told him.

“Irma used to tease me occasionally by using the secret passages to make a surprise appearance in the gardens. That was long ago when I was able to move about and she was a mere child. I was always upset and gave her many warnings.”

“I will not attempt such a thing again,” Della said.

He sighed. “I hope not. The entrances are supposed to be kept locked. I cannot imagine how you managed to open the panel in Irma’s room.”

“Perhaps someone had used it and neglected to lock it,” she said.

Prince Sanzio stared at her. “But who? Only a few people know about the existence of that secret doorway.”

“Irma does,” she said.

The old man frowned. “We know all too well that Irma has been kidnapped and is in the hands of that villainous Count Barsini!”

“I sometimes wonder,” she said.

“Wonder about what?” the old man in the wheelchair demanded.

“If my sister was kidnapped.”

“She’s not here!” the old man exclaimed. “We have the ransom note. They want the Madonna!”

“Could it be some sort of trick?” she asked.

“I’m afraid I don’t follow your thinking,” Prince Sanzio said testily.

“I wonder if she might have vanished voluntarily.”

“Never!”

“I’m not all that sure,” Della said. “Perhaps Barsini and his crowd have won her over. They all think I know where the Madonna is. And this is their means of getting it from me.”

“By pretending to hold Irma and threaten her life if the Madonna isn’t turned over to them?” the old Prince said.

“Yes. That is what I’ve been thinking.”

“However much Irma has fallen under that evil fellow’s power I do not think she would be a party to anything like that.”

“But none of us can be sure.”

The man in the wheelchair reminded her, “There is a time limit. According to their message, she has only about forty-eight hours more to live unless the Madonna is turned over to those Satanist rogues.”

“I’m aware of the time limit.”

“And yet we have accomplished little in finding her,” the old man worried. “Perhaps I should have turned to the police.”

“Part of their threat was that Irma would die at once if you dared do that.”

Aunt Isobel had apparently overheard them, for she now came down the stairway to stand between Della and the man in the wheelchair. Dressed in somber brown, the old woman was in a mood as gloomy as her dress. She said, “For my part I think Irma is already dead.”

“Please! Don’t say that!” Prince Sanzio begged her.

“I cannot help it,” Aunt Isobel said. “I believe it because on several nights I have seen her ghost.”

Della said, “Please, let us not begin that.”

“It is a fact,” her aunt said stiffly. “I will not change my story to please anyone.”

Prince Sanzio eyed her unhappily. “I’m sure it was Miss Standish whom you may have seen. The two girls resemble each other so much even I can hardly tell them apart.”

“No,” Aunt Isobel said. “Della was not even in the palace at the time I saw the ghost.”

Della addressed herself to the old man: “Perhaps my theory is the better one. If Irma is alive and free, she could come back here using the secret passages she knows so well.”

“No!” he protested.

Della insisted, “I say she could come back here under cover of night if she were looking for something. The Madonna if she thinks I have it.”

“No!” The old man angrily denied such a thing was possible. But more and more she was beginning to wonder about it all.

Della knew about the secret passage and its entrance panel in her sister’s bedroom because she had once gone to the room and found the panel door open. Someone obviously had used it. The question was who.

Irma knew the passages and could travel in them safely. If she were truly a free agent and wanted to return to the palace for her own reasons, this would explain the ghostly visitations about which Aunt Isobel was so emphatic.

The old woman said, “I don’t think the figure I saw was real. It was a ghost!”

Prince Sanzio shrugged his shoulders. “I cannot help what you may think. It would appear to me I know and understand my foster daughter better than any of you. She would not put me through this torment if she were free to come here.”

Della saw that he was sincere in this and badly hurt by her suggestion. Out of sympathy she said, “Perhaps you are right.” But she knew that doubts had arisen in her mind and she was not apt to dismiss them until she knew the full story.

Prince Sanzio wheeled himself into the dining room, leaving Della and Aunt Isobel to follow. As soon as he was a distance ahead, the old woman whispered to Della, “I would not talk about this in his presence again. He is very upset and he is old and ill.”

“I agree,” Della said as they started for the dining room.

Prince Raphael arrived directly after dinner. He was dressed in a dark brown suit and he had a small bandage at his temple.

Old Prince Sanzio at once asked, “What has happened to you?”

“That bandage around your head!” Aunt Isobel chimed in.

Raphael showed embarrassment. “I regret to say my horsemanship is not up to the level I’d hoped. I took a fall this afternoon and this is the result.” He touched the bandage.

“I never trust horses,” Aunt Isobel declared.

The old Prince frowned. “I do not understand it. You have the reputation of being an excellent horseman.”

Raphael spread his hands. “We all fail occasionally.”

Della and Raphael left the two older people as soon as they could. They went out to the garden for a stroll before leaving. She was careful to omit any mention of her meeting with Father Walker or her search for Pasquale Borgo. But she brought him up to date on everything else.

Raphael told her, “The old Prince was right in warning you about those hidden passages. They are dangerous.”

“You believe that?”

“I do,” he said. “It is true of most of the houses that have them. They were built long ago and no work has been done to keep the majority of them fit to use.”

“Irma used them.”

“Irma did many things which were unwise,” Raphael said grimly. “Including becoming infatuated with Barsini.”

Della said, “I do not understand her leaving you for him. I find him repulsive.”

He halted and, smiling at her gently, said, “That is because you have better sense than your sister. And why I find myself in love with you rather than with her.”

She looked up at him. “Even if you mean that I wish you wouldn’t say it.”

“Why not?”

“Because you are only making it more difficult for us. You know I hope to reconcile with Henry when he returns from Naples.”

“If he returns from Naples,” Raphael taunted her. “What if he is already on his way back to London without you?”

“He wouldn’t do that!”

“What makes you so sure?”

Blushing, she said, “Because as an Englishman he would not break the trust put in him. He is not only my fiancé, he is my lawyer. Sent here by his superiors to watch over me.”

“I’m not sure he has done all that well.”

“He did well enough until he caught us in each other’s arms and went off in a rage,” she said bitterly.

“Good riddance!”

“I can’t agree,” she said. “But we must not quarrel about that now. Not with our biggest challenge ahead.”

He sighed, his mood now bleak. “Perhaps we should give up this plan.”

“You can’t mean it!” she exclaimed in disappointment.

“After last night I’m not at all enthusiastic,” he said. “We both had narrow escapes. We might not be so lucky tonight.”

“But there is no time to consider. The threat we received gives us a deadline,” she argued. “This is our best chance to locate Irma. And you told me you knew a way to get us into the villa.”

“I do,” he said. “But the place will be crawling with Satanists. If we are discovered and they turn on us we might be torn to pieces. They’re a nasty crowd.”

“I know that.”

“If Irma is there you may be sure she is well under lock and key. Our chances of getting to her are slim!”

She said, “First let us seek out Barsini and let him turn her over to us.”

“You think he is liable to?”

“Not willingly,” she said. “But you have your pistol with you, I trust.”

“After last night I refuse to leave my house unarmed.”

“The prospect of being shot has a beneficial effect on making the most stubborn of men talk,” she said.