Jane Carmen Alina: Arcanugly's women

By Lambert Sabuzi

romanzo, thriller, omicidio, Italia, Austria, Romania, sesso, amore

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Oct 23, 2022
• ISBN: 9781471015106

Book preview

CHAPTER 1-

The Arrival

It was exactly twenty past eleven when, with a gasp, the train stopped thirty minutes late at the Borgosesia station. Very small: consisting only of two rails and a single ochre-coloured building.

The pea-green carriages had pneumatic doors that were supposed to open with a light touch of a red button on the side of them, but unless you hit it hard more than once, you stayed on that train until you were rescued, perhaps at the terminus.

Fortunately, there were other travellers along with her; she had caught sight of three or four young men attached to the grab bars swinging like hams at the ceiling; surely someone would have helped her to land the two heavy suitcases. And who on earth would have denied an effort to a beautiful woman, shoulder-length blond hair, wearing a short red dress a little above the knee and a light-coloured three-quarter length jacket kept deliberately unbuttoned to show off a very well-shaped body at the recently passed age of thirty-five?

And so it was, indeed. Two boys offered and did everything themselves; one, perhaps out of shyness, stood by and watched not without a hint of envy, however.

She did not move a leaf; they even carried her luggage down the street to the station entrance. There a car, sent by the management of the Residence where she had booked an apartment, was waiting for her.

The reward was a big, smug smile accompanied by a double thank you with a not-so-Italian R.

Alagna Holiday Resort was written on the sliding door of the Mercedes van. There was no mistaking it.

Miss Parker Jane?

A distinguished man the driver, complete with grey uniform and a moustache neatly trimmed Clark Gable-style.

He hinted the touch of his hat visor, bowing his head slightly.

Yes, thank you! she replied with a smile.

And the delay is not my fault! she added with another smile.

Welcome! You speak good Italian, congratulations!

Yes, I think. It's not my first time in Italy, but never around here.

Happy vacations then!

Good! That's just the thing!

Monte Rosa is ideal, it's the second highest mountain in the Alps. You also chose a good time and got lucky. The snow has been abundant. It will be a treat for skiers. Are you a skier?

He spoke hastily, almost hurriedly, perhaps out of habit

of being a bit of a local guide.

Skier is a big word; let's just say I get by.

She did not want to get into the back seat; as the driver loaded her bags, she opened the door herself and sat in the front, next to the driver's seat.

J can see the road and the view better, she said and then I'm in a hurry to change, especially my shoes ... I could fly in these!

She added, pointing to them with her hand. Effectively, the twelve-heeled python footwear on that snowy road was absolutely out of place and dangerous, but she had gotten off a few hours earlier at the Milan Malpensa airport and nothing foreshadowed that she would find snow so soon.

The road meandered through towns and villages, one after another, always skirting the well-stocked Sesia River with its emerald, green water. It was a nice day; the sky was clear, and the sun was trying its best to warm that diamantine air that by now did not seem so cold. The route was steadily climbing gently, and as they went, piles of snow, driven by tractor shovels, grew on either side.

It snowed a lot here!

Jane mentioned in a low voice, looking around almost talking to herself.

We'll find a lot more when we get there.  We are now four hundred meters above sea level, but the resort is one thousand two hundred, replied the driver with satisfaction and added:

You'll see what beautiful torchlight processions they'll have at Christmas and New Year's!

Yes, indeed it was two days before Christmas.

CHAPTER 2

The presentation

She entered in the room, pulling a heavy door almost all with fogged glass. Just above the jamb, a snowy garland of green fir branches intertwined with mistletoe bushes made a beautiful show of itself.

There was a lot of people. She quickly searched the room for a free table: there was one in the corner at the bottom with glasses on it, not yet cleared; but she opted for the counter.

High wooden stools with a low inlaid espalier allowed a good view of the customers, almost all men; just a pair of loving couples were leaning against a wall. She climbed on one of them with sinuous ease, taking advantage of the fact that he had worn on his long legs a pair of slightly flared stretch jeans at the ankles. Above: a white wool sweater with turtleneck style and braided patterns; all covered by a two-tone snowboard jacket.

She took it off by wiggling a little and, as she rotated her torso to place the garment on the chair back, she felt all eyes on. Normal, she was a stranger!

The bartender walked up, a tall and thin girl with a retro bonnet on black hair and a pair of long earrings that swung conspicuously at every movement of the body. She was surprised at Jane’s request for a Tequila bum-bum, maybe expecting her to order a beer.

Do you prefer Tonic or Sprite?

Schweppes if you have, thank you.

Jane replied pleased with the professionalism.

The girl hinted a yes with her head and went to the shelf of the bottles, but after two steps she came back:

«Forgive me! We have Mescal! And ... I don’t have the small shots; they are a bit big. »

«It’s all the same. It doesn’t matter! I’ll just have a couple. »

She came back with the liquor bottle, left everything on the counter: tonic, glass, cloth napkins as if to say:

Do it yourself!

But that was what Jane wanted.

In the meantime, she looked around: the furniture, all in larch and fir wood, gave a strong feeling of warmth; the ceiling was mammoth, it looked like that of a Church, made of thick beams wedged together supported by black iron plates. These were hung large silver and gold Christmas balls that waved at each door opening and reflected the glow of a strobe ball in the centre that rotated continuously.

People had quiet faces and made a big noise. It was an almost continuous getting in and out, not everyone was shaking the snow from their boots, but a large carpet wedged in the floor prevented the splashed inside the room.

A handsome man came in with a jovial smile. With his hand open and his arm raised, he greeted the whole room: he must have been well known. He took off his wool hat and put it in his jacket pocket, went to the counter and rested both elbows on it. He was on Jane’s side, near her, and every once in a while, he looked at her sideways.

Good evening, Matt ... The usual beer?

The tall woman of the bar asked him, heading towards him with a rocking walk.

Yes, yes ... Thank you! Half a pint.

And he glanced again at Jane, who this time did not hide the fact that she had noticed her, squeezed her lips and smiled again to him.

"Unless ... unless ... someone wants help to finish the bottle! »

She added with a hint of a smile, taking a sudden initiative.

«We can do it in two! "

It was Jane’s bold response as she accompanied a lock of hair behind her ear and looked straight into the man’s eyes, taking on the challenge.

Marisa! A shot for me too, leave the beer alone!

He turned hastily to the bartender who nodded with a grimace having understood the situation, so much so that, while cleaning the counter with a sponge, she said in a low voice to an unsuspecting customer who stood in front of her:

Tonight, we are hunting!

Matt grabbed everything there was to take, sticking the bottle under his arm, fingers in glasses, napkins in the pocket of the military-style jacket, and, nodding his head to the woman as if to show direction, he reached a table that had just freed.

I have never seen you here. Tourist? Where are you from? Where are you staying?

He asked in a hurry as he took off his jacket and, to get her to sit down, he moved a bunch of clothes piled up on the bench.

The only thing missing is that you ask me for the license number ...

Foreign, for sure! I bet! French? No! Switzerland ... not even ... English! Yes ... English!

And to confirm his conviction, he shook his head as Jane laughed at the form of approach.

They continued the presentations.

He Matt, local ski instructor. Not a ski instructor, but the master held to emphasize.

She Jane, an American, graduated in history and philosophy, but preferred to be a journalist for a gossip magazine, currently on vacation.

He was in his forties, tall like her, with a clumsy but decisive way of doing things, maybe he was under the charm of the stranger. Also, because Jane didn’t answer all the questions and preferred to do a little 'the mysterious showing off everything he could: green eyes, beautiful breasts, soft blond hair, the sinuosity of well-groomed hands. Between a chat and another, between a touch now on the shoulder, now on the hand, now on the knee, just to corroborate the confidential attitude of the moment, the bottle of Mescal went towards the end; now they drank even without the tonic water, the shots, sometimes too full, overflowed on the table at every toast, but they were too busy laughing. They even ordered a saucer with orange slices, but they didn’t even touch them. The forty-five degrees of the distillate were fulfilling their task.

The time had come to leave that place; Matt had pre-imagined that moment, but you know ... Events do not always coincide for the better. He would have wanted to invite you to his house, but how would it look? It was all messy, bed unmade for two or three days, sink with dinner plates to wash. The invitation was not feasible. All he had left was the alternative of taking her to the Residence.

So it was, also because, at that late hour, the driver was not available and much less a taxi.

In the car, a Hummer H2, they remained to talk even after arriving at the destination, with the engine running, heating running and sometimes a wiper to remove the snow that was falling.

The yellow lights of the arcade of the Residence were reflected on the whiteness of the piled heaps creating a strange mysterious atmosphere while the snowflakes darted pushed by the north wind. The square in front was now a sea of white, the flowerbeds did not stand out anymore, only those who knew the place knew that there was a road.

«Should we go to bed? »

Sooner or later, someone had to say it and it was Jane because Matt would be there forever.

A suffocated grunt was his response with a shrug of the shoulders.

Is it far from your home? she asked.

Far away ... and the road is very dangerous, and if something happens to me, I will have to sleep in the car, always then that I find the right way with all this snow ...

Jane didn't end the sentence by putting a hand on his mouth and laughed at the clown face Matt had made.

Come up to me for a coffee! she continued.

She didn't want to sleep alone.

CHAPTER 3

The assignment

And Christmas Day came. When she opened eyes, the room was bathed in sunshine, perhaps the morning had almost passed; then, seeing the time, she was heartened.

It was just past nine o'clock. He had a lot of chores to do.

She had slept very well on that satin sheet; the apartment was very warm while it was bitterly cold outside. The curtains were open. From the large windows she looked out: the whitewashed roofs of the wooden houses, the fir trees that dropped white powder with every gust of wind, the balustrade of the large terrace with at least eight inches of snow on it. You could see the whole town square because the lodging was on the second floor. Moreover, it was full of people.

They wake up early! she thought.

She slipped out of bed, wearing only soft, flesh-coloured lace shorts culottes, and went to the bathroom. After a steaming quick shower, she fixed her hair in a sort of ponytail, phoned the front desk, ordered orange juice and a Italian bread with stracchino and bresaola (she loved Italian flavours) and added a few dates, as long as they were Deglet Noir, her delicacy.

She went to her notebook after plugging it into the big screen of the seventy-inch television. She threw on a black lace duster and, sitting on the sofa, stretched her back as she waited for the Internet to connect.

She looked at the mail, there was an avalanche of messages; she scrolled with her mouse over the senders: they were all Christmas greetings. She had deliberately thought of no one except her elderly mother to whom had phoned the night before. Now to someone had to answer!

The trill of a video call startled her. Ah! It was Donald, her newspaper editor. She answered, couldn't and wouldn't refuse the call.

Besides being her boss, she esteemed that person. He was a man of culture, a handsome Marcantonio with elegant and gentle manners. One of the very few who had not hit on her, even though there had been long days and nights of work together, even though a strong confidence had taken over, and this was not because he was married and somewhat faithful to his wife, nor because of fear of being accused of stalking, but because he simply did not like to drool behind a female's ass.

"A woman decides when to give pussy ... if she doesn't want, there's no point in you getting behind ass" he said ... And he was right!

Hi, Donald, Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas to you, Jane! My God! ... Don't you have to die first to see heaven?

There and then, she did not get the joke, then suddenly she was reminded of her sitting on the sofa with her legs spread without even wearing anything underwear. She first attempted a vein cover with her hands, then moved out of view of the cam.

No no! Don't bother too much. I'll take it as a Christmas present!

Yes ... of course! If your wife hears you!

Jane said laughing to hide her embarrassment.

I just woke up and didn't turn on all my neurons, and then I wasn't expecting this call. But what are you doing awake at this hour? What time is it with you?

She glanced at the clock: ten o'clock. She made a quick calculation:

It's four o'clock! Did someone kick you out of bed?

But where did you go? I don't see you anymore!

I'm coming. I'm wearing something more decent, you're still my director!

All right. Anyway, let's come to us. I hope you are well?

Yes, thank you! The apartment is okay, the people are okay. The snow okay, the wine fabulous!

What about the corpse?

What are you saying? I haven't killed anyone yet!

If you go around dressed like that, sooner or later someone will crack! Other than that, ... Don’t you have to tell me anything? Nothing about last night ... Where were you?

Nothing in particular, I had dinner at the hotel with another lonely soul turned friend. Here everyone spends Christmas Eve with family. After the toast and torchlight procession I came to sleep. It must have been two o'clock. Why the question? Are you checking up on me?

They found a dead body.

Are you continuing with the corpse joke?

They found him for real, on the Sesia river, a little or a long way from you I don't know.

No kidding! How do you know?

B.B.C. They found him four hours ago in a bend in the river. I waited to call you to give you time to gather some news.

I'm sorry, the only news I can give you is about my dreams last night, and he continued if you want, I'll look into it, but remember I'm on vacation!

Try to think that it might not be an accident! I'd love a good review like you know how to do!

No ... No ... No! Some news is ok ... More don't ask! I've been waiting a year for this vacation to Italy and it's costing me an arm and a leg!

The tone of her voice had become harsh and frowning.

Donald knew that tone and knew that Jane got tough when she used it. She was the best reporter he had in his employ; she had been successful in impossible reports, she had remarkable powers of observation and wit, but most of all she was stubborn, far more so than a normal woman could be.

He tried the only card he had at his disposal.

I'll pay your expenses.

No! No! And no! loudly.

I said I'll pay for your vacation!

You want to buy me ... So! The voice had gotten lower.

You'll do as good a job as ever. I'm sure you will! It could be murder, and you're good at digging up news, and then you like it too! I won't rush you. If it's interesting, we can come out with the late January edition. That would be a good one, I can already imagine the headline: 'Murder on Vacation.'

But then, if you insist, someone will have to pay the bill for the Residence!

Okay. Sold!

And the spa, too.

Gone!

And also, a dress I saw in a boutique! A love, believe me.

That .... When you win the Pulitzer!

And they both had a laugh.

CHAPTER 4

The friend

When she went down to the reception hall, she could not help but notice a total emptiness of people. She extended his gaze to the breakfast room: there was Carmen, the only customer, still alone.

She was her Romanian friend with whom she had met and had dinner the night before. She walked towards her.

Hello! Good day and Merry Christmas! May I?

Jane asked, pointing at the chair.

Certainly! Best wishes to you too ... Craciun fericit... We say so! Sit down, sit down. Happy to see you again!

She answered by lifting eyes from her phone where she was writing with two hands; her nails were well cared for, with two-tone nail polish and a glitter set on her thumbs.

You have loosened your hair ... You are fine ... You are more ... How can I say? More attractive!

Carmen took the compliment with a smile and added:

They are many and sometimes they weigh me, then especially when I am nervous. But I don’t want to cut them.

They are a gorgeous red with many shades that, when they are loose, are even more noticeable.

She stopped complimenting her so as not to seem excessive, but she would have deserved more. Also, for her clothing: she wore a short and flared beige skirt to almost look like a miniskirt; a vintage top with floral motifs and a ring neck