Chapter Nineteen

“We are like islands in the sea, separate on the surface but connected in the deep.”

    William James

Fortunately for George the police had poured onto the beach then, greeted by his screams. They had surrounded George, pushed him to the ground and clicked handcuffs around his wrists, unaware of his dislocated shoulder. He shouted and cursed, writhing in the sand like a snared snake. Gabriel turned away and came to me. He lifted me into his arms. I protested.
“Your shoulder,” I wheezed.
“It’s just a graze,” he replied and carried me to the car.
I sat in the passenger seat and Gabriel wrapped me in a towel. My hands shook as I clutched the towel around me in rhythm with my chattering teeth. Crouched beside the car, Gabriel stroked my back gently and brushed the sand off my face.
“You’re safe now,” he soothed.
I nodded, rubbing my throat where I could still feel the grip of George’s fingers squeezing the life from me. I felt the acidic bite of nausea burn the back of my throat and I swayed. 

Inspetorre Giannetti approached. Gabriel shot up, confronting him.
“How was he able to follow us here?” he demanded, tightly controlled anger flooding his voice. “I thought you had officers all over the island searching for him? But he can just casually waltz onto a beach …”
Giannetti raised a placating hand but looked apologetically at me.
“I am sorry,” he said, sincerely. “We’ve been trying…”
“Not hard enough!” snapped Gabriel. He ran a hand through his hair. “My god, do you have any idea how close he was to …Where was Felipo?”
“You both need medical attention,” said Giannetti.
He whistled and gestured to the paramedics who had just arrived and were climbing out of the ambulance.
“I cannot apologise enough, Miss Stewart,” he said, his eyes full of regret. “George made sure Felipo was temporarily distracted from his assignment. How are you feeling?”
“She was almost strangled to death, how do you think she’s feeling?” retorted Gabriel, icily.
I reached for his hand and looked up at him. I was barely holding it together, tears clouding my vision. Gabriel saw the plea in my gaze and nodded.
“I’m OK,” I mouthed to Giannetti, wincing as I swallowed. 

After a brief assessment, the paramedics insisted we accompany them to the hospital. The wound on Gabriel’s shoulder required stitches and hearing I had been strangled, I was told I would need further examinations and to be monitored closely for twenty four hours. I leaned on the male paramedic’s arm and gingerly walked to the ambulance, Gabriel following. 

I missed my return flight to England. In the hours after our arrival at the hospital, my throat continued to swell and swallowing became difficult and painful. But a CT scan confirmed there was no tissue damage, internal bleeding or torn muscles. With pain relief and ice, the swelling gradually reduced but the doctors still wanted to monitor me for any complications. Gabriel never left my bedside. Sofia and Luca had arrived with an overnight bag for me and a bouquet of flowers, Sofia swiftly bursting into tears at the sight of my bruised neck.

The following morning, Inspettore Giannetti tapped lightly on my room door. Gabriel, disheveled and with his arm in a sling, waved him in. He placed a brown paper bag on the small table next to the bed.
“Fresh croissants,” he said. “From the bakery.”
“Jenny can’t eat any solids yet,” Gabriel told him.
“Thank you,” I rasped, smiling at him.
“Again, let me apologise…”
I held out my hand to him.
“Please, there’s no need.”
He squeezed my hand and nodded.
“I have some good news,” he announced, letting go of my hand and walking to the end of my bed. “An associate of Mr Felch’s has come forward and offered us information in exchange for leniency. He confirms Francesco Gallo’s story and after Francesco’s return, George still planned to eliminate him. He also will testify that George killed Carlos and Vittorio, and that he helped move the bodies.”
“Does he know why George killed them?” asked Gabriel.
“Vittorio’s boat was seen very close to where one of their drug deals took place out at sea,” explained Giannetti. “He had tried to hail them on the ship to ship radio but they didn’t answer. Vittorio said he knew what they were up to. After that, George wasn’t going to let him talk to the police, so he killed him.”
“B*****d,” Gabriel murmured.
“As for Carlos D’Angelo, our witness claims he wanted to get out, leave the business,” Giannetti continued. “George suspected he had been offered a deal by the police and thought Carlos had or was going to inform on him. We have no evidence of that but George killed him to silence him too. We believe the people he works for are ruthless and dangerous, that is why we think he killed these people to protect himself and his own interests.”
“How could he think he would get away with multiple murders?” I asked, not expecting an answer.
“He is arrogant and delusional, even now as we question him he sits with a smug smile on his face as if he is sure our charges won’t hold up,” said Giannetti.
I glanced worriedly at him.
“Please, Miss Stewart, I assure you they will. There is substantial forensic evidence that supports our case. He will be in prison for the rest of his life.”
“I hope he rots in there,” grunted Gabriel.
I silently echoed his sentiment.
“But what is next for you?” asked Giannetti. “You are to return to England?”
“Yes,” I sighed. “As soon as I am well enough.”
“Well, I hope you won’t judge the island too harshly after your experiences,” Giannetti urged.
I shook my head and smiled.
“Despite it all, I have loved my time here.”
He smiled then, for the first time since I’d met him. It transformed his face, he was suddenly young and boyish, a twinkle in his eye.
“I am glad. You will return then?”
I smiled, glancing over at Gabriel, saw the quiet, steady love in his eyes, and then back at the Inspetorre.
“Just try to keep me away.”