Galileo's Room (Noir Florentine Book 1) by Strozzi Amadeus

Author:Strozzi, Amadeus [Strozzi, Amadeus]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-01-20T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Sam rode through the familiar terrain of far-off barely remembered seaside summers, of Etruscan tombs and caves and tidal pools to explore with whoever was around but mostly by himself. He curved back and forth between his and the oncoming lane and turned the word Velathri around his tongue as he’d always done along this road, tasting its ancient stony strangeness, metallic and raw.

Velathri. Etruscan for Volterra.

He couldn’t stop imagining Katia as the famous bust of the Etruscan woman with a headdress and earrings, breasts bared. Those ancient men and women, married and single, took lovers openly, had few inhibitions or boundaries. As a boy, when driving along this particular road with his parents, he had always been bombarded by antiquity. He had mulled over the nature of things, the Etruscans, the Romans, and Galileo, the same Galileo who was rumoured to have visited his villa. Galileo who had lived a lie for so much of his life.

And what kind of lie was his fantasy of life with Katia? The Katia who had a husband she’d neglected to mention? Was it possible to not be crushed by it? Sam’s mind was presenting him with a confused collage. Emmie in a pool of blood, Carla upright in that armchair, lifeless staring eyes. Katia with her faceless spouse, making love.

The Volterrana road ribboned into the distant hills, cleaved by the long blue shadows of early morning. Cypress trees stood sentinel on the hilltops, but there was nothing to watch for. There was almost no one on the road.

A little further along, Sam became aware of the sound of sirens, distant but moving closer. He peered into his rear-view mirror until he saw a convoy of Carabinieri, blue lights flashing, still tiny specks. Even if they weren’t for him, they’d soon be breathing down his neck.

He veered suddenly off to the left and into an open field and kept riding as fast as the bike would let him go. Through the mustard and poppies and alfalfa the bike bumped along until he hit something that made a sound like lightning cracking the air. The impact shuddered through him and the bike bucked upward, sending him flying, bringing him down hard and slamming his head against the ground as if it were a gourd.

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