Chapter 63
Author's Note: Yay I'm back with another chapter. Thank you to everyone for their condolences for my aunt. Thank you Ziliverina, Skyridge and Fletcher for their reviews. Enjoy readers!
"Basta," Dafne asked nervously and out of a growing sense of desperation, "Could I please wear your jacket?"
It was dinner time in church and she still hadn't confirmed where he was keeping the keys. The blasted keys that Dustfinger was blackmailing her to find. The car keys which he said he needed tonight, which was now so she was very short on time. She presumed they were in Basta's jacket like the rest of the keys he carried around. So that was why she asked him for it, with the intention of slipping her hands inside the pockets to see.
"Why?" Basta asked her, though he was already in the process of removing the jacket.
"I'm cold," Dafne lied as he handed it to her.
Basta's brow furrowed.
"You are? It's actually pretty warm in here."
Dafne silently agreed. It was warm in the church tonight. It was the collective heat of the crowd and the fires burning in the braziers. She slipped the jacket on, giving him a shrug and a sheepish smile.
Concern twitched onto Basta's face,
"I hope you're not getting sick," he put a hand to her forehead, frowning a little, "You feel a little hot, you might have the beginning of a fever."
Guilt was like hunger gnawing in the pit of Dafne's stomach. It felt so awful to have him so concerned for her when she was up to something behind his back. She removed his hand, trying to give him her best reassuring smile.
"I'm fine. Really. There's no need to worry."
She began surreptitiously inching her hands towards the jacket pockets. But the moment she felt Basta's hand on her face, she jumped a little and froze, looking at him with wide slightly panicking eyes. His expression was tender, free of the suspicion she feared to see.
"But I do worry about you dear heart," he murmured, "I can't help myself. You mean the world to me you know."
Dafne almost cringed. Why did he have to say something like that now, when she was in the process of helping his most hated enemy? It made her feel horrible, even though she had no choice but to do what Dustfinger wanted. She had to protect Silvio and Netta. But she hated that she had to betray Basta in order to do this. She hated to betray the man who cared for her, who loved her, just as she loved him.
She muttered 'likewise' to the sentiment he had just expressed and kissed him. Through the kiss, she poured silent apology into his mouth, wishing she could kiss him without such conflict. Conflict Basta was oblivious to as he seemed to enjoy her burdened kiss just as much as her unburdened ones.
"Tonight I'll take care of you," he said afterwards, stroking her cheek, "Whether you're getting sick or not, little mouse."
He smiled, looking excited at the prospect of being able to take her to his house after curfew. Dafne returned the smile, trying to project a sense of enthusiasm she wanted to feel but couldn't given the task ahead of her.
When Basta looked away, she shoved her hands into the jacket pockets in one sweep. She kept her face emotionless as her fingers struck the jagged edges of keys. There were several, all connected to the one chain. She despaired a little. Had Basta added the car keys to this set or was he keeping them elsewhere? She had no way of telling. It would be too suspicious to take them out and have a good look. This was a hopeless venture Dustfinger had sent her on. Had he really expected her to be able to find out where they were? Her guess was as good as his.
"Hey lovebirds," Carlo plopped himself down on the other side of Dafne, diverting her attention as well as Basta's.
"What do you want?" Basta growled, eyeing Carlo's slanting posture towards Dafne with disapproval.
"Sucks about Fulvio huh," Carlo said instead of answering Basta's question.
He gestured vaguely over at a group of men who were taking turns downing a bottle of blackish liquid in shot glasses. Dafne knew most of them, Enzo, Nero, Massimo, Ernesto, Dante. Marietta and Giosetta were there too. She already knew from them that this drinking session was in honour of the man Carlo was referring to.
The unfortunate Fulvio had been transported into Arabian Nights when Silvertongue had unintentionally summoned a dark-skinned boy instead of more treasure. According to Silvertongue, it was beyond his power to reverse this so Fulvio had been declared as good as deceased and it had been Ernesto's idea to hold a wake for him.
"Knowing Ernesto, it's just an excuse to get drunk," Marietta had told Dafne. Dafne was inclined to believe her as Pietro's brother-in-law looked rather drunk and happy at the moment. So did most of the men, though to their credit, they had started to proceedings looking appropriately somber. Dante was the only one still looking a little depressed. He had been good friends with Fulvio apparently and Giosetta was rubbing him consolingly on the back.
Meanwhile Marietta was sitting on Nero's lap, downing a shot herself. Dafne supposed Ernesto wasn't the only using the occasion as an excuse. Her friend's face was flushed and grinning as she slammed the shot glass down on the table for a refill.
Dafne turned her attention back to Basta as he nodded in agreement with Carlo's statement.
"Could have been any one of us," he growled, "And who knows who might disappear next time that accursed wizard reads," Dafne's hands closed into tense balls as Basta laid a hand on her arm. But he didn't notice where her hands were submerged, he was looking at Carlo, "All I know is that it won't be Dafne. She's never going to be in the same room when he reads. I'll make sure of that. I'll be damned if I'm going to lose her like we did Fulvio."
Carlo nodded,
"Yeah poor Fulvio," he said with a rather over the top sigh, "He will be missed," he paused, eyeing Basta somewhat intently, "Not by me especially, I didn't really know him but cugi did..." he pointed at Dante, "Cugi will miss him so I feel sorry for him. I know what it's like to miss something. I miss my baby."
Basta snorted,
"I take it you mean your car."
Carlo sighed with more sincerity,
"Yes of course."
He sat back in his chair, pouting and looking sad.
Basta rolled his eyes at Carlo.
"Why the hell would you miss such a stupid-looking piece of junk?"
Carlo stared at him in rather animated indignation.
"Stupid-looking?" he cried, "How could you say that? Fire Mama was the coolest car in all existence!"
Dafne's lips began to curl upwards. Fire Mama. What a ridiculous name. But she didn't laugh. Carlo looked genuinely distraught.
"And now she's gone," he whined, burying his face in his arms on the table, "And I have nothing to drive."
"Drive Enzo's car," Basta told him in an annoyed tone that suggested he wanted Carlo to mourn elsewhere.
Carlo raised his head, looking offended.
"Drive Duchess? I wouldn't be caught dead driving that piece of crap," without warning, Carlo sprung dramatically to his feet, startling them both, "No, what I need is a new car! A new canvas to create Fire Mama II!"
He hurried around Dafne's chair to thrust himself between her and Basta, causing the latter to glare at him.
"Basta, the car Dustfinger came here in, the one you parked in the car park today, can I have it?"
He gave the other man a childishly pleading look.
Basta settled back in his chair, a smile playing on his lips,
"So that's why you came over here," he said knowingly, "You want the fat woman's car."
Carlo nodded eagerly,
"Yes. Come on Basta, let me have it."
"Hmm," Basta put his finger to his lips in a teasing gesture of contemplation, "I don't know. It really depends on what you're going to do for me in return."
"Look out duty, bridge duty, whatever needs doing, I'll do it," Carlo said enthusiastically, "Hell I'll even be your errand boy for a while. Just let me have the car."
Basta's smile deepened.
"An errand boy? I like the sound of that. What do you think Dafne?"
"I think it's a fair deal," Dafne said, trying not to grin at the fortune thrown their way. Basta couldn't get into trouble if Dustfinger stole the car keys from Carlo.
Basta nodded,
"I'd have to agree," he said, smiling rather ominously at Carlo, "Okay it's a deal errand boy."
While Carlo was looking less enthusiastic now, he was still pleased,
"Great. So..." he held out his hand, "Keys."
"I don't have them on me," Basta said, much to Carlo's and Dafne's disappointment, "I left them back at the house."
"No problem I'll swing by later tonight and pick them up," Carlo suggested.
Basta shook his head,
"No I don't want to be disturbed tonight," he leaned around Carlo to smile at Dafne, "I'll give them to you tomorrow morning when you report to me bright and early for errand boy duty."
Carlo's shoulders slumped,
"Fine," he said with a sigh.
Dafne squirmed agitatedly in her seat. No, not fine. It wasn't fine. Basta needed to hand over those keys to him tonight. It was the only way they would avoid landing in a mess.
"Basta..." she began, planning to say: be nice to Carlo and let him pick up the keys tonight. I don't mind being disturbed. I really don't!
But Basta wasn't listening,
"By the way," he was saying to Carlo, "Did you ever get Dirtyfingers back for wrecking your car?"
Carlo scowled,
"No. I've been on the lookout but I haven't seen him since this morning. Be sure that once I catch him alone..." he smashed a fist into the palm of his other hand, "I'll make him pay dearly for what he did to Fire Mama."
Basta looked over towards the church entrance where night was peaking in,
"He sleeps in that overgrown lot with the tyre swing on the big tree," he said as if making an innocent comment, "I'd say that's where he is since he's not here."
"You think?" Carlo's eyes became alive with dark anticipation, "Maybe I should go check it out."
Basta shrugged as if nonchalant, but his mouth was twitching as if he really wanted to smile. Dafne eyed him reproachfully. She knew what he was doing. He was setting a dog on the trail of a rabbit. But it was the same rabbit who was causing her trouble and she found it hard to be completely sympathetic. If Carlo beat up Dustfinger, he certainly wouldn't be up for stealing any keys.
Dafne felt a twitch of shame for thinking this. As much as she resented Dustfinger for putting her in this situation, she didn't want him harmed.
But like so many things, that seemed beyond her control. Carlo was waving his arm,
"Hey Enzo! Enzooo!"
The men paused their drinking to look at him.
"Hey Enzo, your boyfriend wants you," Massimo said with a grin.
All the men except for Enzo began laughing hysterically.
"Shut the hell up!" Enzo snarled, glaring resentfully at Carlo, "What do you want?"
"I know where Dustfinger sleeps!" Carlo called out his answer, "Let's go beat him up!"
Enzo grinned,
"Sounds good to me," he called back.
He quickly downed the shot he was holding before hurrying over to join Carlo at the entrance.
Ironically the man the two left to hunt ended up walking into the church a few minutes later, looking unscathed apart from his red hands.
Basta eyed Dustfinger with disappointment,
"Damn," he muttered under his breath, "They just missed him."
Dafne was relieved this was the case. But then Dustfinger began making his way over to them and she grew tense. What reason would he have to approach them? Surely he wasn't going to ask her about the keys with Basta present.
"Evening," was all he said as he said as he sat down next to Basta, reaching for any untouched food.
"You're lucky," Basta informed him sourly, "Carlo just left to look for you. He's still angry about what you did to his car."
Dustfinger smiled, looking at his burnt hands.
"I am indeed fortunate to have missed him then. I've had a rather rough day as it is."
Basta smirked unsympathetically,
"Yes I know you have."
Dustfinger glanced from his hands to Dafne,
"Would you believe that on top of everything, I've misplaced one of my juggling balls," he said.
"Really? How terrible," Basta said in a mock pitying voice.
"Yes it is rather," Dustfinger said, eyes never leaving Dafne, "I need it for my act. You haven't come across it have you?"
"No I haven't seen your stupid ball," Basta sneered.
"What about you Dafne?" Dustfinger said, "I asked you earlier to keep an eye out for it, remember."
Dafne's brow furrowed quizzically. Dustfinger had never mentioned anything to her about a... Suddenly she realised what he was doing. He was talking in code. The juggling ball was code for car keys, and she did know where they were. She just had to think of way to tell him using the same code.
"Sorry I haven't seen it," she said, trying to sound as normal as possible, "But if I were you, I'd check the place where you sleep. I'm sure it's there."
Dustfinger's eyes regarded her intensely,
"You think so?"
Dafne nodded, feeling horrible as he returned the nod. It was a nod of understanding. Her task was complete, her betrayal was complete. She had given him the location of the keys.
"You're probably right," he bowed his head, "I thank you for your assistance lady."
"Don't mention it," Dafne said queasily as guilt prickled unpleasantly in her stomach. She couldn't bring herself to look at Basta. She had just betrayed him right under his nose and he was oblivious to it.
"Well you better hop to it and find your stupid ball Dirtyfingers," he said, "Otherwise you won't be able to amuse Capricorn with your silly juggling act."
Dustfinger stood up with a smile, a smile which held a triumph only Dafne was privy to.
"I'll take my leave then," he said, "Good evening."
Basta grinned slyly at Dafne after Dustfinger left,
"I'm surprised at you little mouse. You might have sent him to his death telling him to go to the lot. You know that's where Carlo and Enzo are."
Dafne stood up, still feeling too guilty to look at him.
"I'm not worried. He's clever enough to outwit them," she said as she removed Basta's jacket, "I have to go. Orlanda's waving all the maids over."
She held the jacket out to him but he didn't take it. Instead he scraped his chair back and got up,
"You can keep it on if you like. I'm coming with you back to the kitchen. I forgot to tell Mortola that Capricorn wants her to take Silvertongue some sweetened tea for his voice."
"Oh I see," Dafne said, daring to peak at his face. He was smiling, glad to be accompanying her. She felt like crying but she forced a smile instead, gritting her teeth as guilt chewed away at her insides, "Come on then."
Not long after arriving in the kitchen, Basta left with Mortola to deliver Silvertongue's tea. Dafne spent the moments apart from him trying to alleviate her guilt. She tried to console herself with the fact that she had only done it for a good reason, to keep Silvio and Netta safe. She also supposed it was the right thing to do, helping Silvertongue and his family escape.
These justifications were a small comfort but they weren't enough to eradicate her guilt entirely. It was like a dull persistent ache and the moment she saw Basta again, when Orlanda took her to meet him later at the rendezvous point in the backyard, it throbbed all the more painfully in his presence. She supposed it was perhaps because he was so obliviously happy, unaware that such happiness was about to be cut short. All because of her and Dustfinger.
Of the latter, they ended up running into him on the way to Basta's house. Dafne immediately began panicking, fearing the direction he was coming in would arouse Basta's suspicions. But Basta just looked him up and down disappointedly,
"I see Carlo and Enzo failed to get a hold of you."
Dustfinger nodded,
"Correct," his eyes shifted to Dafne, "I found my juggling ball lady. It was exactly where you said it would be."
Dafne nodded in understanding. She had suspected as much.
For a brief second, Dustfinger's face deepened into a look of apology. She knew he was sorry for involving her, just as much as she was sorry for being involved.
"Anyway I must be off," he said abruptly. She understood his haste to leave, given what he now possessed. He inclined his head in a bow, "Good night lady."
"Good night," Dafne said, knowing this was farewell.
"Yes nighty night Dirtyfingers," Basta said mockingly, "I'd sleep with one eye open if I were you. Carlo is an idiot but that doesn't mean he's not persistent."
Dustfinger smiled,
"So he's a bit like you then."
Basta bristled,
"You better get out of here before I decide to do Carlo's work for him," he threatened.
Dustfinger kept smiling,
"Gladly," he said, walking straight up to Basta and unexpectedly placing a hand on the other man's shoulder, "Good night Basta."
He said it almost tauntingly and Basta eyed the placement of Dustfinger's hand with surprised annoyance.
"It'll be a good night when you leave," he growled, slapping the fire-eater's hand away, "Touch me again and I'll chop your hand off."
"With your knife?" Dustfinger said almost cheerfully, "Well I wouldn't want that."
That said, he hurried away.
"Stupid Dirtyfingers," was all Basta had to say as they watched him go.
Dafne tugged on his arm,
"Forget him," she said, knowing that neither of them ever would after tonight, "Let's go home."
To be continued...
Ooo cliffy!
I hope you can tell the exact moment Dusty stole the knife. I tried to make it obvious without making it so obvious Basta would notice. He was distracted hee.
Carlo is my favourite in this chapter. I feel bad that he's about to lose Fire Mama II.
The men are drinking black sambuca. I don't recommend drinking a lot of it. The men (and Marietta) are gonna be pretty sick tomorrow.
Ciao bellas!