Read Online The House of Serenades by Lina Simoni - Free Book Online
Authors: Lina Simoni
Tags: General Fiction
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dresses, and the waiters hurried back and forth carrying trays of espressos, teas, and colorful pastry amidst the buzz of the customers’ conversations. The atmosphere was one of elegance and opulence, with large gilded mirrors and fine tapestry hanging on the walls and Oriental rugs spread casually on the marble floor. Nodding and smiling, Eugenia joined her good friends the Countess Marina Passaggi, Carlotta Defilla, and Francesca Dodero at one of the large tables in the back of the room.
“How are things, Eugenia?” the Countess Marina Passaggi asked as soon as Eugenia had taken her seat.
“Not bad,” Eugenia said, “other than for my brother, who claims to be ill but doesn’t seem to be. He’s acting odd, and no one seems to be able to figure out why.”
“What do you mean, odd?” Francesca Dodero inquired, adding sugar to her espresso with a minuscule silver spoon.
Eugenia threw her hands in the air. “Doesn’t go to work, doesn’t sleep in his room. Acts like a madman. I went to see him this morning. He almost kicked me out.”
“Why would he do such a thing?” Carlotta Defilla wondered.
“The horse accident perhaps?” the Countess Marina Passaggi proposed.
Eugenia shrugged. “Who knows. He didn’t look sick to me, but something must be wrong because, Matilda told me, he spent all of last night locked in the reading room, without going to bed. He was still there when I saw him. He hasn’t come out of that room of his in almost twenty hours. And he won’t speak to Matilda either.”
“That’s peculiar,” Carlotta Defilla said.
The Countess Marina Passaggi, who lived on Corso Solferino down the street from the palazzina , delivered a shrewd smile. “I think I may know something,” she said. “When I left the house an hour ago my chambermaid told me that Carlo, my butler, had seen the Chief of Police arrive at the Berilli’s residence shortly after lunch. Now, isn’t that peculiar?”
“The Chief of Police!” Eugenia exclaimed. “What would he be doing in my brother’s house in the middle of the day?”
“Perhaps your brother is worried about a dishonest servant and called upon the Chief of Police to investigate,” said the Countess Marina Passaggi. She reached out and took a canolo from the pewter tray.
Carlotta Defilla disagreed. “No, no,” she said. “Servants are for the lady of the house to handle. Matilda would be taking care of such a problem, not Mister Berilli. Plus, a dishonest servant is no reason for Mister Berilli to lock himself in the reading room through the night.”
“Good point,” Eugenia said.
“Perhaps the horse accident was not an accident after all,” the Countess Marina Passaggi said casually.
“What else could it be?” Francesca Dodero wondered.
“I don’t know,” Eugenia said, “but if there’s a problem in my brother’s household, I’m going to find out. And have you heard about Doctor Sciaccaluga’s nurse? Palmira Bevilacqua.”
“The one who died of influenza?” Francesca Dodero asked.
Eugenia nodded. “Her funeral is going to be in the cathedral.”
“In the cathedral!” Carlotta Defilla, the Countess Marina Passaggi, and Francesca Dodero exclaimed in unison.
“Yes,” Eugenia said. “Father Camillo’s idea.”
The Countess brought a hand to her forehead. “There’s no end to what the working class dare these days.”
4
IN THE READING ROOM, Giuseppe spoke between his teeth.
“Lots of people have reasons to dislike me.”
I wonder why, Antonio thought to himself, careful not to show sarcasm on his face. He said, “Could you be more precise? Think of someone who deems himself a victim of your injustice. Someone who hates you. Someone who wants,” he paused, “revenge.”
Giuseppe jerked in his seat. “Antonio! Don’t be so crude. My heart is weak.”
“My apologies, sir. I didn’t mean to frighten you. Please, tell me who comes to mind when you think injustice.”
“There’s that lawyer I
“How are things, Eugenia?” the Countess Marina Passaggi asked as soon as Eugenia had taken her seat.
“Not bad,” Eugenia said, “other than for my brother, who claims to be ill but doesn’t seem to be. He’s acting odd, and no one seems to be able to figure out why.”
“What do you mean, odd?” Francesca Dodero inquired, adding sugar to her espresso with a minuscule silver spoon.
Eugenia threw her hands in the air. “Doesn’t go to work, doesn’t sleep in his room. Acts like a madman. I went to see him this morning. He almost kicked me out.”
“Why would he do such a thing?” Carlotta Defilla wondered.
“The horse accident perhaps?” the Countess Marina Passaggi proposed.
Eugenia shrugged. “Who knows. He didn’t look sick to me, but something must be wrong because, Matilda told me, he spent all of last night locked in the reading room, without going to bed. He was still there when I saw him. He hasn’t come out of that room of his in almost twenty hours. And he won’t speak to Matilda either.”
“That’s peculiar,” Carlotta Defilla said.
The Countess Marina Passaggi, who lived on Corso Solferino down the street from the palazzina , delivered a shrewd smile. “I think I may know something,” she said. “When I left the house an hour ago my chambermaid told me that Carlo, my butler, had seen the Chief of Police arrive at the Berilli’s residence shortly after lunch. Now, isn’t that peculiar?”
“The Chief of Police!” Eugenia exclaimed. “What would he be doing in my brother’s house in the middle of the day?”
“Perhaps your brother is worried about a dishonest servant and called upon the Chief of Police to investigate,” said the Countess Marina Passaggi. She reached out and took a canolo from the pewter tray.
Carlotta Defilla disagreed. “No, no,” she said. “Servants are for the lady of the house to handle. Matilda would be taking care of such a problem, not Mister Berilli. Plus, a dishonest servant is no reason for Mister Berilli to lock himself in the reading room through the night.”
“Good point,” Eugenia said.
“Perhaps the horse accident was not an accident after all,” the Countess Marina Passaggi said casually.
“What else could it be?” Francesca Dodero wondered.
“I don’t know,” Eugenia said, “but if there’s a problem in my brother’s household, I’m going to find out. And have you heard about Doctor Sciaccaluga’s nurse? Palmira Bevilacqua.”
“The one who died of influenza?” Francesca Dodero asked.
Eugenia nodded. “Her funeral is going to be in the cathedral.”
“In the cathedral!” Carlotta Defilla, the Countess Marina Passaggi, and Francesca Dodero exclaimed in unison.
“Yes,” Eugenia said. “Father Camillo’s idea.”
The Countess brought a hand to her forehead. “There’s no end to what the working class dare these days.”
4
IN THE READING ROOM, Giuseppe spoke between his teeth.
“Lots of people have reasons to dislike me.”
I wonder why, Antonio thought to himself, careful not to show sarcasm on his face. He said, “Could you be more precise? Think of someone who deems himself a victim of your injustice. Someone who hates you. Someone who wants,” he paused, “revenge.”
Giuseppe jerked in his seat. “Antonio! Don’t be so crude. My heart is weak.”
“My apologies, sir. I didn’t mean to frighten you. Please, tell me who comes to mind when you think injustice.”
“There’s that lawyer I
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