Murder in Verona - Angel of Death

Verona, December 1267

Eliodoro Galdi, independent notary and member of the Guild of Judges, Lawyers and Notaries, sat in the lavishly furnished chapel of his fortified house near the Ponte di Pietra, enjoying his life. Outside, a milky December sun rose over the hills of Verona, colouring the sky pale pink. It was a quiet morning. No bells penetrated the icy cold in the streets. No metallic echo broke through the stone canyons of the houses, filling the city with its walls and towers, and reverberating through the surrounding villages. The church bells had been silent for five weeks already. Pope Clement had grown tired of being confronted with the continued disobedience of the city's ruler. The fact that Mastino della Scala treated the excommunicated Staufer Duke Konradin like an honored guest was the last straw, and it had brought upon the city the strictest punishment at the Pope's disposal.

Eliodoro Galdi cared little for such matters. Tall and imposing, with a clean-shaven face, blue eyes, and a mouth that liked to laugh, Elio was in the prime of his life. He was doing well. Duke Konradin's presence brought him a stream of clients, filling his purse, and for his spiritual needs, he had this place here.

Contentedly, he looked around the chapel. At the front end was the small choir, whose lavish decoration he had recently commissioned. To the left was an altar of Mary and to the right he had his newly acquired statue of Bishop Zeno placed.  He could come to him whenever he required guidance and advice. Elio chuckled.  That morning, he however, he was not in the mood for contemplation. He needed a short respite from the pleasures he had indulged in during the night. It had been an excellent decision to visit Madonna Claudia's brothel the night before, he thought. His chosen bed companion had fulfilled all his desires without hesitation.

Eliodoro Galdi stepped forward to the altar, kneeled, and crossed himself. Usually, at this time of day, he would perform his morning devotions. After the unchaste pleasures he had enjoyed, it seemed appropriate to show a little remorse. However, the chapel was freezing cold, whereas in his chamber, a crackling fireplace, a silk-covered fur blanket, and a soft female body awaited him. He smiled dreamily. Hastily, he uttered a prayer for forgiveness of his sins, lit a thick wax candle for Bishop Zeno, and left the chapel.

His chamber was at the other end of the long corridor connecting the chapel to the grand hall. He paused briefly outside the door and listened. Surely, his enchanting playmate was still in the deep slumber of exhaustion.

As quietly as he could, he turned the doorknob and entered. A cloud of white dust descended upon him. What the hell was this? Coughing and half-blind, he stumbled into the room, trying to wipe the dust from his eyes. A shadow approached him, raised its arms, and water poured over his head. Galdi let out a horrifying screamHe fell to the floor, twitching like a man possessed and flailing about, but the excruciating pain could not be dispelled.