this."
The great knocker at the main entrance resonated throughout the palazzo. Antonietta clutched at Byron's arm. "They're here. We need a maid in here to clean up the glass immediately."
"What are you going to do, Toni?" Marita demanded. "If you tell Franco what I've done, you will destroy my marriage. He will send me away. You know he will."
"I can't help what Franco will do, Marita. You attempted to steal a great treasure from our family. Who were you taking it to?"
"I can't say."
The image shimmered in her mind. Loathing surrounded the image. Loathing and fear. Merged as she was with Byron, Antonietta caught the image from Marita's mind. "Don Demonesini? You were delivering a Scarletti treasure into the hands of that horrible man?"
"How could you know? I didn't say. I would never utter his name aloud, the name of the devil himself." Marita crossed herself several times.
Waves of distress and fear swamped them from all directions. Running footsteps clattered down the marble hall. "Signorina Antonietta, may the good
Dio
save us all." Helena ran into the room, her bosom heaving, her hands fluttering in the air wildly. "We've found him. We've found Enrico. He's in the laundry chute, wrapped in your good Irish lace tablecloth."
Behind Helena a young maid appeared. "I've shown Vlad and Eleanor Belandrake and their son, Josef, into the conservatory, Signorina Antonietta."
The silence was deafening. Byron wrapped a comforting arm around Antonietta. "I take it Enrico is no longer alive." He had a sudden urge to laugh at the ridiculous situation but was certain Antonietta wouldn't appreciate his sense of humor.
"Dead as can be," Helena admitted, pressing a hand to her mouth. "The maids went looking for the missing tablecloth, and the smell was so bad - "
Antonietta held up her hand. "Spare us, please, Helena. This can't be happening, Byron. I can't have your family for dinner with a dead body in the laundry chute. What am I going to do? Poor Enrico. He's very large. I can't imagine how he got in there."
"He's stuck," Helena reported. "I have no idea how we're going to get him out."
"I will speak to my sister and her husband, Antonietta. I am certain they will understand. Call Captain Diego and inform him we have found the missing chef." We will discuss Marita later, when things have settled down. I'm sorry about your chef, and your mother's tablecloth.
"We can't possibly uninvite your family for dinner," Antonietta was horrified. Poor Enrico. He kept to himself, but he was a fixture here.
Marita gasped aloud when Franco walked in, dressed in a charcoal gray suit. "Gossip travels fast here in the palazzo. Tasha is informing the authorities and asking them to be discreet and use the servant's entrance. Nonno is entertaining your guests in the conservatory, and you know he can be very charming." Franco squeezed his cousin's shoulder in sympathy. "We can pull this off, Toni. Don't panic. Marita, I'm allowing Vincente and Margurite a movie while we're dining. Please go quickly and get dressed. This dinner means a great deal to Toni, and we won't fail her."
"We can't possibly sit down to dinner with a dead body in the laundry chute," Marita said.
"Don Giovanni is explaining right at this moment that we've had a death in the palazzo. Enrico lived here practically his entire life. He's one of ours, and he'll be taken care of. Toni, you look beautiful. Go with Byron and meet his family. I understand there is some hysteria in the kitchen. I'll go down and see that the new chef, what's his name?"
"Alfredo," Antonietta supplied.
"I'll make certain Alfredo calms down and doesn't disgrace us. I'll take care of this, Toni. I know what this means to you. Marita, do as I say." He glanced around the room, noted the broken glass on the floor and the papers clutched in Marita's hands.
She looked desperately at Antonietta and Byron as if they might save her, then she turned and ran from the room.
"Helena, calm the maids and make certain this room is cleaned," Franco ordered.
"Yes, Signor Scarletti."
Franco took Antonietta's hand. "It will be all right, Toni. We'll get through this together, the way our family always does. Byron's relatives will be charmed by you."
"In spite of the dead body in the laundry chute, wrapped in my mother's Irish lace tablecloth," Antonietta said wryly. "I just don't believe this is happening. Poor Enrico. Who would want to hurt him?"
Byron hugged her close. "We will find out, Antonietta. I promise you. There