Chapter Sixteen

“The art of the sailor is to leave nothing to chance.”
Annie Van De Wiele 

The doctor, being satisfied that I was rehydrated, my injuries superficial and that I was recovering well, discharged me the next day, much to my relief. I would be more comfortable at Sofia’s apartment where I wouldn’t have to wear a hospital gown, could eat and drink what I wanted and could sleep without being woken by passing medical staff and squeaky wheels of gurneys trundling by. 

Sofia and Luca’s efforts to ensure I was comfortable overwhelmed me. I supposed I was still feeling quite raw from my ordeal, but the simple gesture of Luca’s arm around me as we ascended the stairs to their apartment almost reduced me to tears. Sofia had added extra cushions and a soft blanket to the sofa so I could sit propped up with my legs extended. She had bought all my favourite dolci and ran me a luxurious bath frothing with heavenly scented bubbles. 

However, it was not long before the shadow of Inspetorre Giannetti fell across the doorstep. When I saw Gabriel that accompanied him, I brightened up immediately. There were still lingering questions that he needed to answer, but I knew he didn’t mean me any harm. He bent down and kissed my forehead. I wanted to reach up and drag him down into my arms, but resisted. His eyes drifted across my puffy cheek and purple eye. I had seen the monstrosity for myself in the bathroom mirror at the hospital. I had hardly recognised myself. 

Inspetorre Giannetti accepted a cup of coffee from Sofia and turned his attention towards me. Gabriel walked to the window and leaned against the wall. Sofia settled next to me on the couch and took my hand, Luca perched by my feet.
“How are you feeling?” asked the Inspetorre, sat at the dining table.
“Grateful to be alive,” I said, honestly.
Sofia squeezed my fingers. I glanced at Gabriel but had to look away, his expression too intense.
“I am grateful too,” said the Inspetorre. “I am sorry for all you went through. If we had acted sooner, we could have prevented Signor Felch.”
“What do you mean”?
“About the time you were taken, we were receiving information about George Felch, enough to arrest him.”
I squinted perplexedly at him.
“Allow me to explain,” he offered. “Francesco Gallo was not missing. He claimed someone had tried to kill him, so he went into hiding for his own safety. Then the day before yesterday, he suddenly contacted my office. He said he had discovered that George Felch was being paid to falsify data for Ferimedit Corp. George tried to bribe his silence and when Francesco refused, George threatened him. Later that day, someone tried to force him off the cliff road. Instead of coming to us, Francesco decided to disappear. He hid in an empty villa on the other side of the island.”
“So what made him come back?” asked Sofia.
“He couldn’t hide forever,” shrugged Giannetti. “And he saw the appeal for information on TV by his brother. I guess he had a crisis of conscience.”
“And you knew this all before George kidnapped me? That he was potentially dangerous?”
“Yes,” confirmed Giannetti. “And we did intend to bring him in for questioning at once.”
Not soon enough, I thought.
“Did . . . did you find Stefano?”
I hadn’t dared to ask about him before, I was too afraid of what the answer might be.
“Eventually yes. We knew he had driven to the institute and after a thorough search we found him tied up in a closet.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
My chest eased.
“And the body in the freezer?”
“We recovered that too. He was known to us as a low level felon.”
“George killed him?”
“We don’t know that.”
“But no one else at the institute knew he was there?”
“No one.”
Silence permeated through the room. I was lost in my thoughts.”
“Jenny, may I ask you why do you think George kidnapped you?”
I blinked at him.
“Well, at first I think he was suspicious because I had tried to call you from the Institute.”
“When I returned the call?”
“Yes. And then he was reluctant to let me go, perhaps he suspected I knew something. Then when Stefano arrived to tell us the news about Stefano I managed to sneak out unnoticed.”
I proceeded to tell him what had happened. He jotted down notes but his eyes rested steadily on my face. Sofia gasped and seethed beside me. When I briefly recounted how George had struck me for biting him, motioning to my bruised cheek, a string of Italian expletives streamed from Luca’s mouth. He had understood perfectly. Sofia whispered a few beneath her breath. My eyes flicked to Gabriel. His fists were clenched, his eyes blazing.

By the time I explained about the dolphin coming to my aid, I was exhausted. I wanted to curl up and cry. Sofia put her arm around me and laid her head on my shoulder.
“You suspect Signor Felch was smuggling?” clarified Giannetti.
“It was just a hunch. The conversations about product and meetings,” I said. “And before he turned into a sociopath, he asked me to take a package back with me to England.”
“Hmm,” pondered Giannetti.
“Perhaps Vittorio witnessed something, saw George’s boat when he was out fishing,” I suggested. “George found out and needed to silence him too.”
I had not mentioned the newspaper article or cap I’d found in Gabriel’s car. I wanted to hear Gabriel’s explanation first before I told the Inspetorre. Giannetti scratched his chin.
“That’s certainly a possibility.”
“You haven’t found George yet?”
“No, but we will,” he emphasised. “And whether we can prove he killed Vittorio, the smuggling or not, he will be prosecuted for the assault and kidnapping of you, the assault on Stefano and the suspected murder of Carlos D’Angelo.”
“B*****d,” growled Sofia.
“There will be an officer outside until Signor Felch is apprehended, for your safety.”
“You think he might still come after me? After everything, he thinks he can still get away with it?”
“I hope he is smarter, but I am not going to take the risk of him harming you again.”
“He won’t get anywhere near her,” declared Sofia, defiantly. “Just let him try.”

Inspetorre Giannetti rose and buttoned his suit jacket.
“There are more details I’d like to go over again, but at another time,” he said. “Please call if there’s anything you need.”
Luca walked him to the door, murmuring in Italian. I sagged back into the cluster of cushions. Sofia shuffled off the sofa.
“I’m going to go and get us some fresh bread,” she stated.
She didn’t bother changing. She grabbed her handbag and Luca’s arm and pulled him out of the apartment. Suddenly, Gabriel and I were alone.