Page 141 of King of Omen

From the shadows, my eyes followed his hasty rush along the thoroughfare. Behind his glasses, his eyes were terrified and furtive, clutching the last of his dwindling cash.

He got to a street corner, about to cross and meld into the crowd, when he jerked at the butt of a gun slipping in between his ribs.

‘Carlo Abrazzio, come with me.’

He turned to tag a stern-faced Carabinieri officer staring down at him.

In seconds, more of Italy’s militarised police moved in fast, fearful they would miss their chance to capture the long-wanted fugitive.

Grim-faced, the once invincible Abrazzio capo stared at the ground as passers-by cheered and applauded on the footpath.

Minutes later, the man who, at the height of his infamy, boasted of mowing down his enemies in their sleep surrendered with a sad smile. Officers grabbed each arm and led him by a small army of armed officers who ushered him into a nondescript van.

Across the street, I studied the unfolding scene with interest, standing alongside three others - Mauri, Valerio and Vitto.

‘Tutto finito,’ Valerio growled.

I jerked his chin, pulling my cap lower as more military cops thundered past. ‘Can’t believe we found him because he used the alias of a deceased Mafia boss’s nephew, one he had murdered himself.’

‘After years running and a few close calls, the feared and ruthless capo mandamento’s goose is cooked,’ Vitto added.

‘Speaking of lunch, anyone? I’m starved,’ Mauri suggested.

‘You’re always hungry,’ Valerio jested.

‘That’s because I need a truckload of energy to deal with all your fuckin’ Calibrese drama,’ Mauri threw back with a grin.

‘Andiamo,’ I rasped. ‘You three nab food. I’ve got a woman at the villa waiting on a lot of loving.’

My companions groaned, even as sirens wailed and the police vehicles streaked past.

We turned heel and strolled away chatting, just five souls enjoying each others’ company and soaking up the warm summer sun.

MIA

I vividly remember my childhood dancing around Bianca’s living room to the most romantic Italian songs. At the time, I didn’t understand what the lyrics meant, but regardless, they aided in my falling in love with the idea of Italy.

Naturally, I was excited when Lorenzo suggested taking me on a trip to his hometown of Naples, with stops in Milan, Cinque Terre, Florence, and Rome.

Starting in the birthplace of the mythical King Romulus, there was so much to experience and explore, although all we wanted to do was stay in bed.

We checked off all the must-see tourist destinations in each city, indulged in some shopping, and savoured various delicious Italian cuisine.

At last, we landed in Naples, where we stayed in Lorenzo’s stunning villa overlooking the famous Gulf with the island of Capri in the distance.

I was charmed and enchanted by his staff and met Valerio, his Neapolitan-based brother.

He was yet another striking Calibrese sibling.

He was quieter and more studious in comparison to Lorenzo’s brooding, passionate intensity. Still stylish as all the brothers, he had dry humour and a twinkle in his eye. For all his cool, calm collectedness, I sensed he had a darker, more ominous side to him.

On his first day back home, Lorenzo took me on a whirlwind tour of his hometown. We sampled delicious Neapolitan cuisine and explored the winding streets walled in by Naples’ four hills, which offered breathtaking views and a charming promenade.

Our excursion turned a little sombre when we visited the graves and marble memorial where his parents were interred.

I helped him lay flowers, holding him in my arms as an unexpected wave of grief passed through him.

‘I miss them, and Bianca too,’ he rasped.

---