SALVE ROMA! A Felidae Novel - By Akif Pirincci Page 0,25
bearings so much that I would have loved to vanish into thin air.
»Nice to get to know you, Samantha«, I said. »It’s true, Antonio and me, we’ve become good friends in the last couple of hours. And with friends I mean, well, friendship as such, in other words, friends who share thoughts or hang out together, hanging out as friends, friends like in, lets say, having dinner maybe or sleeping, oh, uhm, well, you know sleeping as such, like in, how should I explain that, real resting, just lying down, I mean ...«
She burst out in broad laughter.
»Your friend seems to be pretty worried about the correct image of his sexual orientation, Antonio.«
»Yeah, that’s one of his kinks. He says he’s old-fashioned. Though I always believed us Romans to be old-fashioned with all this old bombast surrounding us. But no worries, actually he’s a detective ...«
Antonio began to tell her about the sad circumstances of our encounter and exposed my assumptions and theories regarding the murders in every detail. Samantha was very fond of my observation skills. Even more so she was impressed by the odyssey, which had brought me to her wonderful metropolis. Although she seemed to be the blessed luxury pet of an old man, she was neither unworldly nor did she lack sympathy for her brothers and sisters outside her upper-class home. She had already heard about the monstrosities. Therefore she encouraged me to solve this case as soon as possible and offered all she could do in order to help.
For now this help meant giving us a place to spend the night because Antonio and I just couldn’t take any more. Samantha led us up the stairs to the second floor of the Palazzo, where we were told to be able to sleep without being bothered. On the way there we passed another parlor, where we saw the man of the house. The old man with shoulder-length snow-white hair was sitting in an armchair, tossed a full wine glass in his hand and smoked a big cigar. He was surrounded by quite a couple of candelabra with burning candles, which shone on his ancestors on the wall. Savingly, he sipped his red wine and smiled to himself. An old phonograph on an ancient dresser supplied him with La Traviata, quite the appropriate music according to his mood, which fed on the glory of long gone days.
We went upstairs, wandered through dark halls, and eventually entered a room, which contained velvet cushions, scratchers and loads of toys for our kind. In a nutshell, Samantha’s can opener, rapt in the golden times of his ancestors, did more than is humanly possible in order to keep his pet happy.
I can’t remember anymore how Antonio and I sank down on the cushions and dozed off. No clue if it was due to pure imagination or real memory, but before I went off to dreamland, I believe to have seen Samantha’s face above me. At first it radiated its familiar kindness, but before I closed my eyes, it suddenly took on a strange harshness.
In my dreamland it didn’t get less strange. I found myself on another plane, again on my way to Rome. The funny thing was that, like a human, I was sitting upright on my butt. I was even strapped! The machine was deserted, and the sunlight above the fluffy carpet of clouds shone through the plane windows with such intensity that my eyes hurt even though they were screwed up. From the speakers resounded La Traviata, rough and now and then interrupted by various scratches.
Suddenly Gustav showed up next to me. He was on his way to the bathroom, and trotted past me like a circus bear. When he noticed me, he smiled his witless smile.
»I got one of your kind at home!« he said, winked at me and moved on.
I turned my head to the right and noticed that there was another human inside the cabin except for Gustav. On the neighbor seat sat Antonio’s former master. Although I had never seen him before, I recognized him instantly. He wore a pastel-colored disco suit from the Seventies with a wide lapel and flared pants. The half unbuttoned shirt showed off his hairy chest, on which a silver cross dangled. Somewhere I had seen this before. The Rolex on his wrist, the golden cufflinks and big dark sunglasses, which hid the eyes perfectly, completed the image of a Roman macho.