Chapter 18

726 75 218
                                    

If you enjoy this story – please click that star and make me smile with your vote! It doesn't take long and it means a lot! Thank you so much for giving 'The Mosaic' a try — enjoy reading!

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

If you enjoy this story – please click that star and make me smile with your vote! It doesn't take long and it means a lot! Thank you so much for giving 'The Mosaic' a try — enjoy reading!

The day had started well.

The weather was as brilliant as a cut diamond, the sun bright and the sky vibrantly cerulean. The spring air was fresh, a merry breeze dancing through the city.

There had been no strange deaths. His superior had been busy haunting other people. A week and Daniele had made no attempt to get revenge. A week and he hadn't seen Giacinto once (twice he had been sure to have spotted the mop of curls in a crowd and once he had been fairly certain the Greek was sitting on a balcony, swinging his legs).

Just paperwork. Paperwork was under-appreciated. Paperwork did not talk back, paperwork did not kill anyone, paperwork did not conspire against the republic. He  could put paperwork into orderly stacks. Paperwork was the embodiment of simplicity and order. Two other, under-appreciated things.

Sitting behind a large desk, Alessandro filled out reports. There was a bird chirping near the window, singing prophecies of summer.

That was when heavy steps hammered their way down the hallway to his office. Alessandro straightened up.

Here came his personal poltergeist.

Loud as the entire French army on the move, his superior would always boom 'STENO' — correction, 'STENOOOO' — through the entire building whenever Alessandro had to rush to him or whenever the lanky man burst into his office. Which was entirely too often. Instead of rattling chains, this 'poltergeist' carried either stacks of more paperwork, bad news or insults. Usually a combination of these. Which, given that Alessandro was over a head taller than the man and twice as broad, was only because they both knew Alessandro could not punch him.

Alessandro closed his eyes, clenched his jaw — and the door banged open.

"STENO!"

Alessandro contemplated stabbing himself with his quill.

Lucio Borroni, the third highest ranked police officer in Venice, officially Alessandro's superior, unofficially the self appointed torturer of unfortunate souls and part time poltergeist for Alessandro only.

"Yes, Signore?" Alessandro spoke calmly, hands folded neatly on the desk, straining to break something.

"Why is it that you sit here and listen to the birds —"

"I was finishing the paperwork you gave me."

"Oh, excuse me? I wasn't aware that the middle of my sentence interrupted the beginning of yours?" There was this thin lipped smile, accompanying the impossible mix between sickly sweet and strained voice.

The MosaicWhere stories live. Discover now