Date: Sat, 22 Sep 2001 11:05:21 EDT
From: SSch191950@aol.com
Subject: Angel's Trumpets, chapter 4

ANGEL'S TRUMPETS
by Stefan
http://stefan680.tripod.com/stefanstories/


Chapter Four

Via Appia

George didn't know whom he missed more right now:  The man from Chamber
4 or Andrea.  The man with the hood and the long cock had given him the
most impressive orgasm of his entire life, and he knew that he had
difficulties to get hard anyway. Just a few men recently had been able
to turn him on constantly.  One of them had been Marcus Weidenbruch, the
dark beauty from Berlin he had met at London's Tower and corrupted with
the one and only screen Sir Edward Burne-Jones had designed.  He had
promised to give Marcus the screen in exchange for a whole week full of
sex. It had ended in a disaster; the screen was destroyed and George
had Marcus replaced with Andrea Cassini, whom he met at his fruit stand
near the Spanish Steps.  Andrea was a typical Italian boy:  cocky,
jealous and totally convinced of himself.

The door clicked and one moment later he appeared in the living room.

   "Where have you been? I was waiting for you. The meal is cold now."

Andrea rolled his eyes to the ceiling; George was indulging in his
favourite activity already:  drinking.

   "Is this a reason to get drunk again?" he asked annoyed.

   "Is this an answer to my question?"

   "I have eaten already."

   "With whom?  Sebastian?  Roberto?"

   "None of them. I was with my family." This wasn't a lie; Andrea had
visited his sister Antonella and her children.  George's face showed
that he didn't believe it.

   "Think what you want," Andrea said in a cool voice.

   "Hey."  Quickly George had stepped in his way.  "Don't I pay you
enough?  For this money I can demand a little more attention."  His lips
brushed Andrea's cheek.  "You're my little Italian lover boy.  Be nice
to me."

   "I'm tired."

George pushed him away.  "Tired from spreading your legs for
Sebastian?"  He tugged at Andrea's blue jeans.  "Let me see if you're
still filled with his cum."

   "Leave me alone.  You're sick."  Andrea turned and vanished into the
bedroom.  He was sure that George was sorry already.


George cursed.  Another one who didn't want to sleep with him.  The man
from chamber 4 didn't come either.  What was wrong with him?  Did he
really drink too much?  Was he that ugly?  Wasn't he witty enough?
Didn't he pay enough?  And why wasn't he able to hold Andrea without
money?  Was it his age?  Nonsense, he was just in his mid thirties.
Perhaps he had always solved his problems with money, as he had learnt
at his parental home.  Every man has his price, his father had told
him.  And George couldn't prove the opposite.  Even Marcus, with his
high demands, had had his price.

George smiled wistfully, stepped to the bar and mixed himself a
martini. He was sure that Andrea had been with Sebastian to renew their
relationship.  This Roberto couldn't offer Andrea anything but the rich
man, Sebastian, famous now for his recent detection of Rome's real age,
was the pure sexual temptation.

Hate boiled in his bowels; he swallowed the martini and yet another.
This von Scheffel must vanish, he thought.  If Andrea couldn't see
Sebastian anymore he would come back to him, willingly ease his lovely
cock into his ass, giving him the same pleasure he had felt at Luigi's
Bar.

He left the room, determined to make his visit at the police station
tomorrow morning.



Via Condotti

   "Look at this."  Tasso's manicured finger tapped at a glossy print
from a fashion show in Milano. "The new Autumn collection.  Valentino,
Versace, Trussardi, Testa."

Kay's eyes glistening.  What he saw was breathtaking.  He was sure that
no "normal" man would ever wear something like this, but he and Tasso
definitely wasn't "normal."  Men in short, open jackets made of peacock
feathers, in blue white ringed shirts with calf long, wide trousers or
even in skirts with white stockings.

   "Where's the underwear collection?"

   "I have a private collection in the atelier.  Everything is organized.
We can't have the Spanish Steps of course to present it, but Nino is
about to arrange something.  It's a surprise."

He smiled toothy. "You are coming?  You know I won't accept a no."

   "Surely I'm with you."  This was certainly fun and nothing that he would
miss. "I'm looking forward, really."  Tasso smiled at him.  He had left
some of his perky, camp behaviour and even had forgotten to dye his hair
for he showed some gray strands at the hairline.  Certainly a tribute to
the incident at his partner's bar and all the hassle afterwards.  Tasso
and Luigi had been interviewed by the police and could avoid by a hair's
breadth the closing of the bar.  Luigi had helped with a considerable
amount of Lire.  Rome was one big heap of corruptible people, no matter
if official or not.

   "I suppose you don't have news from the murder?" Kay asked him.

Tasso shook his head. "There was just the plastic bag and a camera the
polizia found.  It was empty, without film."

   "A camera?"

   "Si.  Very expensive model.  You can make photos in darkness."

   "Needs a very bright flashlight then."  Kay remembered his brother had
mentioned seeing a guy always shooting photos.  "Why do you think the
murderer took the film but left the camera there?"

Tasso shrugged. "Don't know what's going on in the head of a sadist."

   "Surely the police took finger prints."

Kay's cell phone rang. Instantly he recognized Sebastian's voice but he
sounded so small and quiet that he was alarmed.  He was stone faced when
he cut the line.  "I must go, Tasso.  Sorry for always having something
while with you.  It's Sebastian.  I can't tell you more."



Piazza Venezia

Kay's Vespa crossed recklessly through the traffic, cut in on cars,
pedestrians cursed behind him, but Kay didn't notice.  In front of the
Palazzo Venezia he jumped from the bike and ran upstairs, taking three
steps at once into the building with the stone inscription
"Commissariato di Polizia."

The gatekeeper told him where to go, until he found himself in a large
corridor, searching for the right door.

   "Homicide Squad," he read and gulped empty.  He knocked softly and
opened the door.  Sebastian was sitting upon a chair next to a table, a
police officer beside him and another in the background, clattering
fervently upon his typewriter.

   "Scusi," he said. "Kay Langenburg."

Sebastian's face lit up. He still couldn't believe what the detective
had told him over the last hour. This all had to be a misunderstanding.

Kay quickly rushed to Sebastian and showered him with questions until
the commissario stopped him. Kay's Italian though wasn't that good yet
to understand him.  Sebastian shushed Kay and pulled him upon a chair
next to him.  "Go to Marcus and tell him to call my solicitor."

   "What happened?"

   "Somebody has brought a charge against me.  I'm under suspicion of the
murder of Paolo, the stripper."

   "What?  Say it's a joke."

The commissario cleared his throat.  "Basta cosi,"  he said.  "Signore
von Scheffel.  We have to keep you here for 48 hours.  It's allowed to
bring clothes you need,"  he continued in broken German.

Kay didn't know what to say.  His eyes registered everything too sharply:
The bully man in his blue uniform, the beret lay upon the table because of
the heat.  A fan made the paper rustle.  A small ficus withered on the
window sill.  The clacking of the typewriter droned in his ears.  He
wished he could embrace his lover, but Sebastian seemed even in this
position unshakeable.  His grin though appeared a bit forced.  "Pack my
things, Kay.  My solicitor will hand it to me."

   "Aren't I allowed to see you again?"

   "No."  The commissario threw in.  "No camouflage tactics."

Kay took Sebastian's hand and squeezed the fingers.  His eyes told him
more than he was allowed to say.  He left him with a long glance and an
encouraging smile.


Gianicolo

Marcus was fuming.  He had difficulty in calming down when everybody had
gathered around the table in Sebastian's house.  Nicholas' prepared
dishes were untouched.  It was quiet in the round.

   "Let's see what we have," Marcus started.  "Michele, Sebastian's
solicitor, told me these facts:  The police received evidence that
Sebastian was a visitor in chamber 4 that questionable night.  The
informer further said that he himself had sex with Sebastian frequently
and that Sebastian had been out of control each time."

A loud chatter started.  Kay went pale.  "That's a lie.  He never was
there!" he said.  Leandro gave him a sharp look.   Sascha had told him
that he was a frequent visitor.  But surely he had stopped his visits
when Kay had entered his life.  He wasn't sure if he should say this
aloud, or in a private word.  Somebody tried to use something against
Sebastian, so Leandro decided to play open.   "Kay, Sascha mentioned
that Sebastian visited chamber 4.  He was sort of a regular."

Kay looked at him not comprehending, then he looked away.  Marcus put a
hand upon his arm.  "That was before his time with you, Kay.  I'm sure.
Or does he spend his nights outside?"

Kay shook his head. "Can you give Sebastian an alibi?  You have been
together the whole evening I suppose," Marcus continued. Kay remembered
suddenly that Sebastian had vanished for some time to meet an 'old
friend' he said and couldn't tell him afterwards where he had been or
with whom.  He looked at his shoes.  What was he supposed to say now?
Would he help Sebastian if he gave him an alibi?  Would that be enough
for the police?  He was sort of family.

   "He left me to meet an old friend.  Don't know where he was during
that time."

Everybody looked at each other and Marcus sighed.  "Has anybody else
seen him?"

Shaking of heads.

   "What are we doing now?" Kay asked.

   "Michele said the accusations are very weak.  Just to say that
Sebastian supposedly entered chamber 4 isn't enough of a reason for
a charge.  Of course they have the right to take him into custody for
48 hours. Michele will do everything to get him free after that.  By
the way, the name of the witness is George Rosenstock."

It was like a bombshell, but to Leandro and Daniel the name had no
meaning.  Marcus quickly filled them in.  "But it's clear then!" Kay
shouted.  "He wants to get him."

   "What does he look like?" Leandro asked suddenly.

   "Light hair, like honey colour, gray eyes, about my height," Marcus
answered.

   "That's him.  Does he drink martini and gin?  I've seen him my very
first day in Rome.  He followed me to Sebastian's work place."

Marcus' eyes were black with anger.  Subconsciously he nibbled at the
paprika slices and dried tomatoes standing still untouched at the
table.  Damn George!  He was always showing up.  Probably he was jealous
of Andrea's and Sebastian's former relationship.  That was sick anyway.
Of course George had been interviewed by the police too but he wasn't
under suspicion. Marcus asked himself why.

   "What if Kay simply says he was with him all evening?" Nicholas threw
in.

   "He could of course.  An alibi is an alibi.  Would you do this?"  He
looked at Kay.

   "Of course."

   "I will talk to Michele then."


At the staircase Leandro waited for Kay, who came absorbed in a talk
with his brother.  Simon said good night then.

   "You aren't cross with me, are you?" Leandro asked.

   "Why should I be?"

   "Because I said that Sebastian..."

   "Rubbish.  What he did before us is none of my business."  Leandro
smiled haltingly.  Well, then... I'm sorry for all this."

Kay nodded and went slowly upstairs.  Leandro knew he wouldn't be able
to sleep this night.


Daniel waited in front of his door.  He stretched out his hand and
opened the door.  Leandro followed him.  "Do you want to be alone?"

   "No.  I don't want to be alone."  He sat upon his bed.  "I'm so sorry
for Sebastian.  This British guy must be really cross with him.

   "Perhaps he just doesn't want to lose Andrea."

   "It's sick.  If he's about to lose Andrea it's not Sebastian's fault."

   "Right." Daniel sat beside him. "I'm sure the police can't keep him
locked up.  There are no real suspicious factors."  He looked at the
younger man.  "Care to share the shower with me?"

Leandro's heartbeat quickened and he smiled.




Deep in the night Kay crept down the staircase to watch some TV.
He needed something to distract his mind and though he didn't understand
too much the fast blabber had a soothing feeling.

Then he remembered that Sebastian had a satellite dish and switched to a
German TV channel.  The news from all over the world was frightening as
always and probably ever will be.  At the end of the news came a little
report about Rome and the newest attraction that had been discovered
this very day.

Kay saw the outside of a brown, plain church at the Capitol Hill whose
name he always forgot.  The small insert- lines named it the "Santa
Maria in Aracoeli."

Interested, Kay listened now and was presented with a photo of a carved
wooden figure of a child.  It wore a splendid coat and little pearl
embroidered shoes.  It matched the pearls that were on it's crown.

The speaker said that the curator of this church had been busy with
dusting the Santo Bambino - a holy relic from Jerusalem, highly adored
and brought by one of the first crusaders - when he detected this was
the genuine one.  The Santo Bambino had been stolen in 1994 and was
since then untraceable.  For the adorers, a copy had been made.

The Vatican said it was a miracle and would like to ordain a feast
next week to celebrate the finding of the Santo Bambino.

Kay stared at the telly.  Perhaps this little kid wanted to have some
holidays he thought, slightly amused.

He switched off the TV and went into the kitchen to snatch a chunk of
cheese from the fridge. His stomach rumbled for he hadn't eaten
anything last evening. He filled a glass with cold water
and sat down at the kitchen table. Chewing at the cheese he felt very
lonely. He couldn't imagine Sebastian in a small, squeaking metal bed
with striped bed linen, the loo in one of the corners.  Perhaps this was
just a cliche he tried to convince himself.  But the fact was the same.
Sebastian was under suspicion of murder and this was the most serious
event in their mutual life so far.

And what did George's statement mean, that he and Sebastian had had
sex several times? Sebastian hadn't met George. Had he?

Kay sat so for a good half an hour when he noticed footsteps upon the
staircase coming toward the kitchen.  Kay's face lit up when he saw
Simon in the door frame.  Surprised and relieved to have company, Kay
smiled at him.  "Can't sleep either?"

   "Hungry.  May I?"  Simon pointed to the fridge.

   "Feel at home."

Simon bit into a Frankfurter and sat at the table opposite his brother.

   "Why aren't you in bed?  Feel sick?"  Kay asked.

   "No, I couldn't eat then. I just thought about Sebastian.  What a
crap. I'm sure he's laying awake right now, thinking of you."

Kay smiled, pained.  "I just hope his solicitor can figure this out.
But what about yourself?"  Kay inspected his brother's naked upper
body.  "You're smaller than I remember."

   "I always wanted to make a diet," Simon joked. "I'm used to it. In
fact this Italian food and dishes do me well.  Ben has bought tons of
cook books for Hepatitis patients.  What would I do without him."

   "And your infection?"

   "Well, I try to ignore it, although it's hard with all the pills I
have to take and the monthly examination.  Doc wants to test a new
medication. It's called T10 and pretty new on the market. It stops the
disease from breaking out, at least they have proved it with apes."

   "Means you're a guinea pig?"

Simon nodded.  "Why not?  I've nothing to lose.  My T-cells are
increasing already."

   "Really?" Kay forgot for a moment his lover. He hoped so dearly that
Simon would still have so many years to live without AIDS, now that he
had settled down with Ben. Nothing better could have happened to him
than Ben.

   "Have you heard from Frank and Eduard?"

   "Nothing from Frank. Ben's teacher went underground since it's
school holidays but Eduard quit his job in the senate at Berlin."

   "Indeed so?"

Simon nodded. "Was to risky for him probably."

Kay suddenly remembered the news from the TV.  "Hey, I've just
heard a strange thing.  You told me that you and Ben had been to San
Paolo and saw the Grandmaster together with Borghese."  He stopped.  He
was getting an idea.  "Haven't you told me that the Grand Master gave
the cardinal a package that looked like a baby?"  His eyes glistened.
"It was the Santo Bambino!"

     "Yes, they said so.  But how do you know?"

     "They reported on TV that this bambino has come back to the
church.  It was stolen some years ago and now it's back again."

Simon bent forward.  "That's it.  But Kotomy can't be the robber.  Or
perhaps it was one of his knights?  And Kotomy found it and brought it
back to the cardinal to place it in the church again."

     "Yeah!  Wow, we should open an detective agency!"

He laughed and turned his head. Nicholas was standing there, half
laughing.  "I thought I'm the only one who's hungry," he said.  He
wasn't sure though if he should interrupt the brother's talk.

   "Help yourself, the fridge is full," Kay said and pulled another
chair closer. "We talked about the Santo Bambino and about
Frank and Eduard."

Nicholas nibbled at a slice of bread and a tomato.  "Eduard squanders
his pension at a Sado-Maso studio I suppose," he said and the brothers
chortled. "That was the last thing we've heard about him in Berlin.
About Frank we don't know, I suppose we will learn more when the
semester starts anew."

   "And Joachim?" Kay asked. Joachim had been the one Simon was working
for before he had met Ben. He had suggested Simon sleep with several
men and Jo blackmailed them afterwards with pictures and videos.

   "Nothing," Simon answered. "I've sent back Eduards photos and that
was all. It was, of course, in the sense of Joachim.  You remember
perhaps that some of the photos were showing things the police were
after, so that was the reason Joachim wanted to find the photos."

Kay nodded. "Of course I remember.  So since you returned them, nobody
can detect them anymore.  Isn't that criminal?"

Simon gave him a surprised look.  "Since when are you so moralizer
like?"

But Kay just grinned. "Well, I'm glad that you don't have to do
anything more with that Jo and all the other idiots.  When are you
writing your next bestseller, huh?"

Simon laughed, head flung back. "That's not as easy as it seems,
sweetheart. I can sell a short story here and there but a book is
quite a piece of work. I'm working at it though."

   "The memories of your life?" Nicholas asked excitedly. He never had
heard Simon's full story.  "I would be your first buyer."

   "Settled then. I'll invite you to my first reading." Simon's dimples
appeared in his cheeks. Kay wondered if he really felt that light
hearted as he acted or if this was just another mask. Hopefully he
would have enough time yet to write it down. He finished his cheese and
emptied the glass of water. Then he sighed heavily.  "I don't think we
can visit Sebastian tomorrow. Just his solicitor is allowed."

Simon put his hand upon Kay's. "Tomorrow evening he will be out, just
wait and see."

   "Your words in God's ear!"




San Giovanni in Laterano

It was an Emperor's Hall, cold and magnificent, intimidating and full of
history's breath.  Leandro was lent one of Sebastian's travel guides and
was absorbed.  Daniel had picked him up once more on his lunch break.
Since Marcus, Nicholas and Kay had a meeting with Sebastian's solicitor
he didn't know what to do and had invited Leandro to a restaurant, using
Sebastian's little red Fiat to drive to the Villa Giulia at the other
side of town.

Leandro stopped at four guilded bronze pillars, "Look, Daniel.  These
pillars had been cast from the bows of Cleopatra's fleet.  Emperor
Augustus had displayed them at the Forum Romanum as a trophy.  Later the
pillars were components of the big temple of the Jupiter Capitolinum."

Daniel touched the cool surface.  "And now they are confiscated  by the
catholic church.  Sic transit gloria mundi."

Leandro's thoughts once more went out to Sebastian.  His work place at
the Forum was now abandoned.  He couldn't imagine what his colleagues
would say to his difficulties.  "Kay hopes that Sebastian will be
released today or at least tomorrow."

   "Let's hope for the best.  Are we still going to Luigi's Bar tonight?"

Leandro nodded.

   "What's with Sascha?"

   "Sascha?"

Daniel looked around and pulled Leandro behind a pillar.  San
Bartholomew showed them his peeled off skin and a knife.  Daniel
cornered the young man.  "It's me or him, I mean it."  He smiled
seductively and Leandro grinned.  "What a choice for me!"  He quickly
kissed Daniel's lips.  I'm not interested in Sascha.  You should know
that.  After those nights..." Leandro fluttered his eye lashes on his
lover. "Vincenzo isn't a real competitor for you."

   "Really?" Daniel's brilliant green eyes were light as spring water.

   "First I must count all the freckles upon your nose." Leandro
looked around and gave him a kiss. "Let's look for the relics that
were in your altar."

Together they went through the long nave, their footsteps echoing upon
the marble ground.  Daniel's heart had made a jump. Perhaps
Leandro was falling in love with him. But was it possible to
feel so deeply during their mutual nights and NOT to be in love?

In the middle stood the high gothic papal altar which contained a
piece from the altar St. Peter used as he held the mass in Rome, and
behind wonderful bars they could see the mummified heads of Peter and
Paul - preserved in golden busts. "It's just copies," Leandro read.
"Napoleon's troops melted down the originals."

Daniel grimaced and turned left.  Another altar with pieces from the
table of the Last Supper.  "Look, there they are."  Displayed behind
glass with small descriptions on paper were the box with Jesus' baby
hair and a crooked, rusted knife, declared as the real circumcision
knife of Jesus Christ.  Daniel stared at it.  Unbelievable, it had been
there:  in the plinth of his altar all the time and he hadn't had a clue
about it.

   "Sebastian said it's all nonsense," he heard Leandro saying.  "Like all
the things standing in the cloisters."

   "Like what?"

Leandro read aloud.  "Remains of Noah's ark, pieces of the burning bush
and of the stone tablets of the Ten Commandments, a barley bread from
the bread reproduction, a head scarf of Mary's, the sword which killed
Paul, etc., etc.  Shall I continue?"

Daniel laughed amused.  "Incredible.  My ancestors did a good job,
didn't they?"

Leandro rummaged for coins and threw them into a metal box.  Then he
took one of the candles, lit it and put it with the others already
burning.  He remained some seconds quietly before he turned.  "That's
for Sebastian," he explained.

   "I guess so.  Let's hope it works."  Looking at his watch he said,
"Time to return to your work place.  Shall I pick you up later?"

   "Great.   Don't be late and bring my white shirt, please."

   "Hey,  you want to impress Sascha?"

Leandro pushed him.  "Sure."



Villa Giulia

Leandro's lips were burning from Daniel's kisses.  He waved after the
red Fiat and sighed.  What a man, he thought.  His knees were shaking
slightly when he made the short way to the entrance.  Several people
already waited for access.  And then he couldn't believe his eyes:  Hair
cut short, not more than a brush over strong eyebrows, sun glasses upon
a short nose, in his typical posture, the shoulders a bit bent over.  He
weighed more than Leandro remembered, perhaps the good cucina of his wife.

Leandro's stomach felt heavy as if he had swallowed a stone.  He
couldn't imagine what had forced Vincenzo to come to Rome.  Intently he
tried to make out Lena, his wife, but couldn't.  Leandro just stood and
watched, he couldn't bring himself to move.  He stood and stared until
Vincenzo looked in his direction.  He took off the sun glasses, waved,
slung his bag over a shoulder and came to him.  Leandro didn't do
anything; he just stood and waited; expecting every moment to see his
wife.

Vincenzo smiled over his whole face.  "Surprise, Leandro!"  He spread
his arms to embrace his ex-lover.  Leandro let it happen, standing
motionless.  He smelled the familiar scent.  A scent that had
accompanied him over two years since Vincenzo's marriage, haunted him
countless lonely nights after, cursing his cowardice for not having
taken his lover to find their happiness somewhere else beyond Volterra.
And now?

Vincenzo beamed into his eyes.  They were still of an unbelievable blue,
dark like a cornflower but his lids wee shadowed.  His face had lost
some of its tightness.

   "What's that for a welcome, eh?"  Vincenzo grumbled playfully.  "I
thought you would jump out of your shoes to see me."

Leandro stepped back.  "Why should I?  You came without Lena?"

   "Yes."

   "I'm late for work."  Leandro said reserved.  "You want to come with me
or wait for me here?  I'm finished at 6 p.m."

   "Of course I'll wait for you.  I guess I'll visit the museum then."

Leandro nodded and rushed through the rooms.  He was all churned up
inside.  His thoughts somersaulted.  He came alone . . .  probably for
holidays . . . his souvenir shop closed to come here to Rome to . . .
what?  To open the hardly scarred wound again?  Now, that he had started
a new life, far away from all sad memories, from his defeat.

And finally he thought about Daniel.  The knife with whom he cut out the
contours of a house, slipped and hurt his forefinger.  Blood dripped
onto the card.  Leonard cursed and sucked the blood away.

   "Keep your finger high," said Melissa, one of the women of his work
group.  "I'll bring you a plaster."  Leandro didn't react; he sat there
and let the blood drip upon the paper.  "What's wrong with you?" Melissa
took his hand and wrapped the strip around.  Then she squatted beside
him.  "Problems?  I saw you going with a nice looking man.  Your
brother?"

Leandro's body shook with silent laughter.   What did she know?

   "He's not my brother.  And it had nothing to do with him."

He looked at the elder woman.  "Thanks for the plaster."  He smiled and
Melissa went over to her work place again.  Cautiously he took the knife
and started to work again.

Around five he asked Don Pietro if he could go an hour earlier and his
boss saw no problem.  So he took his bag and searched for Vincenzo.  He
found him outside, sitting upon a bench under a plane tree, leafing
through a museum's guide.  He put it aside as soon as he saw Leandro
coming and pulled him next to him.  "You didn't look too surprised.
Uncle Emilio told me that you're working now in Rome."

   "I thought so," Leandro said curtly.  "What are you looking for here?"

   "Looking for you, of course."  The blue eyes did their work as they
always had.  Leandro felt some of the armour that he had steeled himself
with melt.

   "The museum's great."

   "It is.  What are your plans?  And how's your wife?"

Vincenzo was surprised by the sound in Leandro's voice.  He had known
another Leandro, a soft one although his stand-offishness and
stubbornness had always been a thorn in his eyes.  That his ex-lover was
resentful too was new to him.  He cleared his throat.

   "I want to talk to you about Lena.  She's the reason I'm here."

   "Don't tell me you've had enough of her and remembered that you're gay
actually, but too much of a coward to stand with me."  Leandro snapped.

Vincenzo gasped.  This exactly hit the nail on the head.  "Afraid you're
right."  He said low.

   "What?  I'm right?  This can't be true.  You can't commute from one
gender to the other just because you're bored momentarily  and
your suggestion to continue our mutual nights is just absurd. I
don't want to be the third in your bed, not waiting until she
gives you spare time."

Wow, were had this come from he thought suddendly. Leandro's
heart jumped to his throat.  What if he had left his wife.  To stay here
with him.  Start anew.  Continue where society had stopped them

   "You know my parents, Leandro.  It was impossible for us in Volterra.
Just the few stolen nights when they thought I was sleeping in my
sleeping bag.  We aren't teenagers anymore.  We are adults and nobody
can tell us what to do or what's forbidden."

Vincenzo always had something very convincing in his speeches, Leandro
remembered.  Once he had sworn that nobody could separate them.  In the
same conviction he had told him that they had no future and he had to
marry the daughter from the Tobacco shop next door to connect the
companies.  Huh!  Leandro looked aside.  At least his own parents knew
about his homosexuality but this hadn't helped him either.  His father
told him to go and mother couldn't help him.  It hurt until this very
moment.  Like Vincenzo's betrayal.

   "You don't have to agitate me, Vincenzo.  I haven't forgotten our
history.  You haven't told me what's with your wife."

Vincenzo slid closer.  "You're right, I can't live with her anymore.  At
night I always remember you."

Leandro laughed.  "It doesn't keep you from sleeping with her, right?
Do you actually get a hard-on?"

   "Leandro!  That's not you."  He looked suspiciously.  "Is there another
man?"

   "Why does it bother you?  If yes, it has nothing to do with us."

   "But yes!  I want you back.  I'd like you to forgive me.  Think about
all our dreams.  They could now come true."  Vincenzo shook him and
Leandro let it happen.  He remembered too well their stolen hours
together, a weekend's trip in the mountains, where they had made love
two days long.  The secret kisses behind a door, holding hands under a
table.  Childish.  Vincenzo had a vivid imagination, he could talk for
hours about the house they would have, the journeys they would take
together and then . . . . and then . . .

   "Does she know you're here?"

   "She knows I'm in Rome, but not that you're here."

   "Why not?  She doesn't know we are ex-lovers, does she?"

Vincenzo shook his head.  He was still a coward, Leandro thought.  He
felt Vincenzos fingers brushing through his hair and shivered.  "You're
still as beautiful as ever," Vincenzo whispered.  "I missed you so much."
He forced Leandro's head to look at him and then did something he had
never done before:  he kissed him in public and Leandro didn't struggle.
When he opened his eyes again he looked straight into Daniel's green
eyes. He jerked his head back and turned bright red from embarrassment.

He freed himself from Vincenzo's embrace and jumped up.   "You are here
already . . ."  he said superfluously.  This is Vincenzo," he mumbled,
not able to look Daniel in the eyes.  Vincenzo rose and stretched out
his hand.  "A colleague, I assume?"

   "No."  Daniel handed Leandro a bag.  "Here's your shirt."

Daniel's voice was calm but in his eyes it was boiling.  Since Leandro
didn't seem to say another word, he turned and walked over to the Fiat.

   "Danny, wait."  Leandro reached him and grabbed his arm.  "It's not what
it looks like."

Daniel started to laugh.  "Ah, I've heard that too often.  It's like a
movie.  Who is he?"

Leandro took a deep breath.  "I will explain everything.  Wait for me in
the car, will you?"

Daniel said nothing, he stepped into the car but left the door open.

   "Now, who was this?"  Vincenzo stood there, arms folded.  He had a
sinister look on his face.

   "I don't think I have to account to you for anything, Vincenzo.  You
were out of my life and now you come along and try to involve me into
something I don't want."

Vincenzo grinned. "But the kiss told me another thing."

   "This is Daniel, Sebastian's cousin.  "You remember Sebastian?"

   "How couldn't I.  You were hot for him once he made his apprenticeship
at your uncle's.  Have you ever been able to drag him into your bed?  If
not, you're trying now with his cousin, right?"

Leandro looked as if he wanted to slap him.  "Watch your mouth,
Vincenzo.  We had a good time, but it's over.  You destroyed
everything.  Go back to your wife."

Vincenzo held his arm painfully strong.  "Now you listen to me.  What
would you have done in my shoes?  You know my family.  I didn't have a
uncle to whom I could flee, I had to stand this."

   "But your parent don't know you're gay.  At least you could have told
them."

   "And ended up in hospital, bashed either by one of my brothers or some
homophobic?"

   "I told you to go away with me but you didn't want to.  You wanted an
easy life with wife and kids and house and garden and a dog!  Mainly the
people don't know that you're a 'pervert'."  Leandro was almost
shouting.  "Go home, Vincenzo, and make your wife some nice kids."
He turned and stepped into the waiting car, banging the door behind him.

Daniel looked at him in surprise.  "What was that?"

   "Haven't you heard everything?"  Leandro said, still fuming.  "That was
my ex-lover.  I've told you about him."

Suddenly Daniel remembered the dance at Luigi's Bar and that Leandro was
sad that his lover had married.

   "But it's ... two years ago, if I'm right.  Why does he show up now?  He
wants you back?  Leave his wife?  Realized that he can't hide his very
being a life long?"

Leandro was surprised about Daniel's quick comprehension.  He nodded.
"Exactly."

   "And the kiss?"

   "He tried.  And I almost gave in."

Daniel patted his knee.  "It's all right, Leandro."  He darted a view
outside and saw Vincenzo still standing at the very same point, looking
over to the car.  "He won't give up that easily it seems.  Well,"  he
said after a while, "It's not easy for him.  You punished him for a
mistake he made."

   "And what do you want me to do?" Leandro asked angrily.

   "Let's have a tramezzino, it will be a long night."  Daniel looked at
his young lover.  "If you need time to think, you have it."

He turned Leandro's face to him.  "But I won't give up.  I like you too
much."  He kissed him.  A quick kiss and Leandro relaxed instantly.  He
really had feared that Vincenzo could destroy what had begun.

   "Then let us drive."




Galleria Borghese

	"Me and Polio walk through a wondrous land of buildings
	I had never seen before. A procession of young demigods
	follows us, silently, careful not to disturb our new
	found love.  The temples are homaphrodotic because they
	combine male and female characteristics:  The altar of
	Bacchus, for instance, is made of darkly veined marble
	especially selected to express the virility of that
	deity, and it is carved with a great phallus rigidly
	rigorous.  How I would like to touch that in reality . . .
	but Polio at  my side smiles and indicates for me to wait
	until night falls."


Until night falls . . . .  in the protection of the night he had to go
to Luigi's Bar again.  Gianluca breathed hard and shut the book with a
bang.  A faint puff of dust appeared.  Instantly he was sorry for
treating his treasure so badly.   But his desires were getting the upper
hand.  In a rapid succession.

Once started he couldn't stop anymore.  Restless he crossed the rooms,
from his library to the little chamber where he hid his other
treasures.  The photos for instance.  Snapshots of naked guys, taken in
Chamber 4.  Just the last victim was missing.  And he had a vague idea
who could have taken the film.



Luigi's Bar

Friday night at Luigi's Bar was a highlight.  Despite the recent
incidences it was stuffed with men of all ages.  Daniel and Leandro had
withdrawn  to the upper stage and enjoyed the pop music of a quiet
level.  Leandro was thankful that Daniel didn't press him and demand an
answer as to what Vincenzo still meant to him.  He didn't know exactly
himself. - Hell, he knew exactly himself! Daniel wasn't such
a glorious appearance as his cousin was, and had perhaps not the
wildness of the youth, nor Vincenzo's powers of persuasion; but Leandro
felt safe with Daniel. Safe and comfortable. Somebody to rely on.
Just Leandro doubted that he was ready himself to change his life
once more - and in such a quick succession. He needed time to
develop - and to make decisions.

   "What do you want to drink?"  Daniel asked him.

   "Cola would be great."  He watched Daniel disappearing in the crowd and
propped his chin onto his palm.  The chatting and laughing around , he
didn't realize it was happening.  Vincenzo's reappearing had shaken him;
more than he would admit, even to himself.   All the plans they had made
for a future life together, far away from Volterra in a big town like
Rome - where nobody would care if they were a pair or not.  All these
dreams could come true now as he had said some hours ago.  But did
Leandro want them to come true?  Now, that he had come to terms that his
lover was lost to him once and for all time?  Not to mention his wife
and what a shock it would be for her.  Well, those things happened
frequently he thought then and Lena shouldn't bother him.

Somebody slid in the seat next to him.  "Alone again?"

Leandro's head flung around.  Damn that.  "Vincenzo!  Madonna, why do
you have to follow me always?  How do you know?"

   "I followed you with my borrowed car, that's all."  He grinned.  "And
besides, I've never been to a gay bar before."  He looked around.  "Rome
is full of hot guys, isn't it."

   "Sure, just pick out one and vanish."

Vincenzo's blue eyes seemed to be black.  Seriously he said, "Have you
thought about it?  I'm sure you don't understand how much I want you
back.  Now, that I've made up my mind everything seems easy to me.  You
just have to forget what happened.  We can start the day new where I
told you I want to marry."

Leandro sighed.  "That's the point.  I can't forget and start this day
new.  It has happened and nothing, really nothing, can make me forget
this."

   "But don't you love me anymore?"

Leandro glared at him.  "I've never told you that I love you."

   "You don't have to.  I know you do."

Daniel stood there with two drinks - forlorn Leandro thought, but
his face showed high anger.  "Stop that game, boy," he said.
"Leave us alone."

They measured each other with looks.  Then Vincenzo slowly rose from his
place and Daniel took it.  He placed the glass with Cola upon the table
a bit too hard. Some of it slopped over.  Now Vincenzo stood and
didn't move until Daniel looked at Leandro and said low, "Do you want to
talk to him?  Shall I go?"

   "No.  But I do have to talk to him.  Not yet but later."

   "You have heard him."

Vincenzo turned on his heels and vanished onto the dance floor.  Leandro
took a large gulp from his Cola and wiped his mouth.  "Let's dance."

He pulled Daniel from his seat, lay his arms around his waist and moved
with him to the music.

In a corner at the staircase Sascha was watching the pair.  So far, for
a new lover, he thought sadly.  But then another young guy crossed his
view, a short brush of hair, smiling at him, and waving his head in the
direction of the dance floor.  He followed this invitation and wrapped
his arms around him.

It was a brand new feeling for Vincenzo.  A long missed feeling.
There had been only Leandro in his life so far until he had been forced
to share the ring and the bed with a woman.  He had learned that the
differences weren't that big when he closed his eyes.  Lena was a virgin
and couldn't compare him to other men and their skills in bed; Vincenzo
had the vague feeling that Lena wanted something more - or something
better from him that he couldn't give her.  More precisely:  He
didn't know what this should be.  He caught himself when his hand
between her legs was searching for something else, but there was nothing
- just emptiness and a painful missed part.  It wasn't any help when he
satisfied himself under the shower, shoving a finger into his anus,
remembering the feeling of Leandro's mouth around his penis... he
couldn't tell Lena what he wanted; surely enough she would look at him
as a pervert.  Sex had to be clean and quick to make a baby.  That the
baby hasn't come yet was a source of pain for his wife and a great
relief for himself.  He watched her each Sunday talking to Peter
Rudolfo, but all the Ave Maria's , the candles and prayers hadn't helped
yet.

Vincenzo clutched the young man tightly, felt his body, the erection
between his legs and knew tonight he would get lucky again - after all
this long time.  It wasn't Leandro, sure, but anyway; it didn't matter
for the moment.  Perhaps, if his old lover didn't want him back, he
would find another?  Say goodbye to his wife, to his family, to Volterra
in general and start to live his real life.  Looking into Sascha's big,
dark eyes, he smiled.  There were so many possibilities right now . . .

He glanced over to Leandro and Daniel on the dance floor; despite his
jealousy he had to admit that they were looking fine together.  Daniel
had his head pressed against Leandro's cheek and was talking to him.
Pain crawled into his heart.  He knew Leandro's body like he knew his
own, each curve, every scar.  Leandro had been the braver of both; he
had gone to live his own life.   And he himself?  Coward, he cursed.
You were always a coward and always will be.  Sascha's fingers crept to
the bulge of his jeans, groping for the hardness.  Vincenzo moaned as he
followed Sascha to the toilets.


Twenty minutes later Leandro excused himself to the toilet.  Some pairs
were kissing and undressing themselves when he entered the room. One of
the pairs were Sascha and Vincenzo. Leandro grinned to himself. Some
problems solved themselves he thought.

He returned just in time to watch the performance of the strippers when
he saw Sascha and Vincenzo taking seats a table behind them, Sascha
tapping him on his shoulder.  "Have you lost my phone number?"

   "Huh?"

   "I've waited for your call."

   "Well . . . you've consoled yourself already I see."  He blinked at his
ex-lover who seemed to be very embarrassed. Vincenzo opened his mouth to say
something but Leandro cut him.  "Tell me rather what your brother said,
did he hear something about the murderer?"

Sascha bent forward, so that just Leandro could hear him.  "Nando has
the film from the camera that was found in Chamber 4.  There are photos
of the victim, and the murder."

   "What?" Leandro said excitedly.

   "Nothing other than a figure with a hood and a cloak.  No evidence who
it could be.  Looks like an elder man though."

   "Why doesn't he hand it to the police?  It could be dangerous for him."

   "I have the photos and the negatives, they are well hidden, don't
worry."

   "You mean the photos showing the act of murder?  I mean Paolo with the
plastic bag upon his head?"

Sascha nodded.

   "We need to hand it to the police!" Leandro said, then he caught
a movement.  The strippers had just finished their undressing, wriggled
their asses into the audience and started fumbling at each other.
Leandro's eyes though followed the man, leaving his table, going in
the direction of the dark rooms.  Could be any man but height and
posture could be suitable for Cardinal Gianluca.

Sascha nudged Vincenzo and pointed to the entrance to the long corridor.
Vincenzo shrugged not comprehending and Sascha whispered something.
Then both rose and followed the man.  Leandro shook his head.  He looked
at Daniel, absorbed by the view of the dancer, his cheeks slightly
flushed.  Leandro bet he had a hard-on.  "Have you heard what Sascha
said?" he asked him, near his ear.  Daniel shook his head.

   "Want to dance?  I'll tell you then."

Half an hour later Daniel had seen and heard enough and just wanted to
go to bed with Leandro, thus both made their way downstairs and passed
the bodyguards at the entrance.  From the distance they saw a police car
with blue light on, but the siren was off.

Then suddenly Leandro stood face to face with Cardinal Gianluca
Borghese-Caffarelli.  He held a bag in his hand and seemed in a state
of trance.  He did recognize Leandro, he could see the flicker in his
eyes, but he said nothing.  His hair was wet from sweat and he had some
red spots of excitement upon is face.  In the next moment he was gone,
vanished in a front door and Vincenzo stepped out of the bar's entrance.

Leandro was still too shocked to say anything.  Daniel sensed it and
took his arm.  "What happened with you?  You look as if you saw a
ghost."

   "I've seen a ghost certainly," Leandro stammered.  "That . . that was
the cardinal I've told  you about.  He was here, he recognized me."  He
looked with despair into Daniel's eyes.  "What are we going to do now?"

   "What are you talking about?"  Vincenzo asked.  He seemed to be
angry.


Leandro shook his head.  "Can't explain."  Then he pulled himself
together.  "Police once more.  Let us vanish."

Quickly they went to the other end of the street, found themselves in a
medieval quarter of Rome, the streets narrow, the paint peeling off from
the outside walls, it was wet and smelling.

Leandro breathed and leaned against a wall.  "Where's Sascha?" he
asked.  Vincenzo sniffed.  "Led me into a room.  First we had been alone
and it was great, but then the others entered.  They wanted me to do
things. . ."  Leandro saw disgust upon his face.  "Madonna, I've never
seen such a long cock."

Leandro and Daniel looked at each other.  "Where's Sascha now?"

Vincenzo shrugged.  He stared incredulously after both men who were
running back where they had fled from.



Gianicolo

Leandro and Daniel had awakened the whole house when they had returned.
Another conference was called in the patio that led to Sebastian's
garden.  Kay's eyes were puffy for sleep or rather for sleeplessness.
Ben and Simon came in sort of an exhausted state, just Marcus and
Nicholas appeared pretty perky.  They hadn't gone to bed at all.  Wine
glasses were still standing upon the table and remains of a pizza.

But now silence once more hung in the round.  Tasso's report had been
shattering:  Sascha had been found dead in Chamber 20, a plastic bag
upon his head.  Again no traces, just a cord belonging to a cloak or
similar garment.  The only good news was that Sebastian had to be
released tomorrow for he couldn't be the murderer.

Despite everything, Kay felt relieved to no end.  He felt pity for that
young guy but he couldn't help but feel happy to a certain extent.  He
looked over to Vincenzo, whom Daniel and Leandro had taken with them,
and eyed him.   He still didn't know who he was.

   "You said, you were with Sascha alone in this room, yes?"  Marcus asked
him now.  "And then two other men entered the chamber?"  Vincenzo
nodded.  He had waited at the same spot for Leandro and Daniel to return
and hadn't given this report to the police.  Nobody wanted to be the one
in custody now that Sebastian was there already.

   "When the first murder happened you were not in Rome, there's no fear
for you to go and give your report to the police tomorrow, Vincenzo,"
Marcus continued.  "You're an important witness."

   "And what makes you think that the murderer is always the same?  It
could be someone who jumps on the bandwagon."

   "Could be, but I don't think so.  This is the act of an insane person.
How many lunatics would visit Luigi's bar at the same time, eh?"

   "True."

   "Can you describe him?"

   "Just a dark figure against the candles.  He seems like a monk to me.
Hood and all.  Nobody spoke a word.  Sascha whispered to me that this he
would be:  the man with the long cock.  I thought to faint.  I . . ." he
fell silent.  Leandro knew how he felt.  Vincenzo had no experiences
except he himself, so this all must have frightened him.

He watched as Vincenzo rose.  "I'll have to go now.  I have a small room
in a hospice."

But Marcus shook his head.  "No way, stay here.  Tomorrow morning we pick
up Sebastian from prison and then you can give your report.  Here's a
couch where you can sleep."

Vincenzo accepted.



Luigi's Bar

Tasso sat in the small room where he prepared himself for his
performances.  He had the look of despair in his face.  Saw the gray
strands at the hairline and some in his brows too.   He had went gray
before his age, but that was not a problem.  A real problem was that the
bar was closed by the police indefinitely.  Two murders in two weeks was
much too much.

The door opened and Luigi stepped in.  Silently he looked at his lover
and smiled thinly.  "That's it, amore," he whispered and embraced Tasso
from behind.   "Ten years are enough, don't you think?"

Tasso looked at  him in the mirror.  "What do you mean?  You don't want
to open again?"

Luigi shook his head.  "Don't think it will ever be the same.  You know
that I have my license just for the fact I grease the palms of the vice
squad.  They know very well what's going on here, despite the strippers
and the dark rooms.  Luckily they can't prove any drugs here.  And now .
. ."

   "But perhaps the people will come for just that reason:  a sensation
seeking you know.  Imagine they could fuck in a chamber where guys lost
their lives."

   "Pervert," Luigi smiled.  "At lease you have your job at Cerruti's
and good as you are you can give your performances at any bar in town.
Doesn't have to be gay necessarily."

Tasso turned to him.  "And you?"

Luigi pulled him from his chair and emptied the glass of champagne for
him.  "And me?  The money is safe, there's enough for both of us."

He led Tasso through the door, taking the champagne bottle with him and
went upstairs to their flat.  "I thought about Ischia? Capri?  Squander
our money as long as we have time for it."

   "Sounds as if you're determined to die next month," Tasso giggled.
"Hey," he said then, "there's still the fashion show to come.  I've
engaged the cute little boy from Sebastian to present the most hot
pieces of my collection."

   "YOUR collection?  I thought you would present Cerruti?"  Luigi asked
surprised.

   "Yeah, well . . . nobody will know when I smuggle in some of my own."

Luigi laughed roaringly.   "That's my wildcat.  Just make sure YOUR
label is on the pants!"


   "Sebastian will be out of custody tomorrow I assume,"  Luigi shouted
from the shower.  "That's at least good news."

   "I don't know how anybody could think that Sebastian could kill
someone,"  Tasso muttered.  He stood in front of the bathroom mirror and
smeared his face with a lotion to get the dirt from it.  He always had
cared for his body but that he had forgotten to dye his hair was an
unforgivable mistake.

   "The police men don't know him, that's all."  Luigi opened the glass
doors and appeared naked, searching for his towel.  He still look good,
Tasso thought.  After all these fifteen years . . .  Interrupted by
little 'trips aside' as both called it.  Luigi knew that he had an
affair with Sebastian years ago, when he had just started his life in
Rome after he had left Berlin and his relationship with Marcus
Weidenbruch.  Sebastian had been hurt that time and tried to search for
another Marcus in the dark rooms, even at the infamous Chamber 4.  Tasso
knew very well what was going on there and the rumour of that mysterious
man with the long dong wasn't a secret for him.  He just hadn't any idea
who he could be.  He came unnoticed, slipped into his cloak and hood
that hid his face when he entered the rooms, and set the guys on fire.

Tasso flinched; his eyes searched the body of his lover.  Just of
average size, but what did it matter? It's not the size but the things
he did with it.

Tasso cleared his face with water and stepped to Luigi, peeling off his
towel, embraced him and hid his face in the crook of his neck.

   "No, they don't know him," he said.  "So it's settled then, yes?  It's
either Ischia or Capri?"

   "Si, amore.  Let's go to bed."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 5 is coming soon