PART – IV. LOVE HATE AND BETRAYAL - THE EPOCH-MAKING SAGA OF RAHUL SINGH AND MERYL REETHERSPOONE.

Dear Reader, before going through the present article I would like you to refresh your memory what happened earlier. Rahul Singh went to Rome on a holiday and had a fling with the brilliant Gabriela Ballatini. It was another jolly good outing for Rahul but he forgot that Gabriela’s father was one of the most powerful men around. Adriano Vilecchio did not take the wild ways of Rahul kindly. Gabriela became obsessed with Rahul; she could not take this snub of Rahul and told her father he must be punished. When Meryl came to know Rahul’s infidelity, she forgave Rahul, which was pleasantly amusing, but could not forgive Gabriela. She plotted Gabriela’s death but the whole operation turned into a horrible blunder, and led her to a murder trial! She was facing a powerful man, but her lawyer was one of the best in the world. He was none other than Andrew Costa !!

A section of the room had been reserved for the press, and representatives were there from Reuters, United Press, International News Service, French Press Agency and Tass, among others.

As an American newsweekly expressed it - the emotion that flowed toward Meryl Reetherspoone from the crowd that had come to witness her trial, was so strong that it became an almost physical presence in the courtroom. It was not a feeling of sympathy or of enmity, it was simply a feeling of expectation. The woman being tried for murder by the state was a killer, a woman of ghastly attitude, Gabriela Ballatini was a noble lady, and they were there to watch Meryl Reetherspoone being brought down to their level and destroyed. The feeling in the courtroom must have been the same feelings that were in the hearts of the peasants who watched Marie Antoinette riding to her doom in the tumbrel.

Meryl was not the only act in the legal circus. At the other end of the defendant's box sat Rahul Singh, filled with a smouldering anger, his handsome face was pale, and he had lost weight, but those things only served to accentuate his sculptured features, and many of the women in the courtroom had an urge to take him in their arms and console him.

The third star of the circus was Andrew Costa, a man who was well known in legal halls of Italy. Andrew Costa was acknowledged to be one of the greatest criminal lawyers in the world. He had defended clients ranging from heads of government who had been found with their fingers in the public coffers, to murderers who had been caught red handed by the police, and he had never lost a major case. Costa was well built, bearded and he sat in the courtroom watching the spectators with large, sad bloodhound eyes in a crumbling face.

When Costa addressed a jury, his speech was slow and hesitant, and he had great difficulty expressing himself. Sometimes he was in such an agony of embarrassment that a juror would helpfully blurt out the word that Andrew Costa was fumbling for, and when this happened the lawyer's face would fill with such relief and inexpressible gratitude that the entire panel of jurors would feel a wave of affection for the man.

Outside the courtroom Costa was a crisp, incisive speaker with a consummate mastery of language and syntax. He spoke seven languages fluently and when his busy schedule permitted, he gave lectures to jurists all over the world.

Seated on the lawyer's bench a few feet away from Costa, was Anthony Fritz, the defence attorney for Rahul Singh. The experts agreed that while Fritz might be competent enough to handle routine cases, he was hopelessly out of his depth in this one.

When it had been announced that Costa was going to defend Meryl Reetherspoone, the woman who had murdered Gabriela and held Vilecchio up to public sympathy, the news had created a furore. As powerful as Costa was, Adriano Vilecchio was a hundred times more powerful and no one could imagine what had possessed Costa to go against Vilecchio.

Now Andrew Costa sat at the long wooden lawyer's table thinking about the battle that was about to take place. He started with a stunning opening statement.

"This woman on trial," Costa was saying to the jurors, “cannot be tried for murder. Because there has been no murder. If there had been a murder, I am sure that my brilliant colleague for the State, Ms. Gloria Bloom, would have been good enough to have shown us the body of the victim. She has not done, so we must assume that there is no body, and therefore no murder."

He stopped to scratch the crown of his head and looked down at the floor as though trying to remember where he had left off. He nodded to himself, then looked up at the jury.

ON THE NIGHT OF DECEMBER 15, 1946.

When Mellanie Stone saw the fierce altercation Meryl had with Gabriela, she was terrified. She ran inside and called from her room.

“Hello.”

“Grandpa, it’s Mili.”

“Yes darling, what happened(?).”

“Grandpa, Gaby ma’am is seriously injured, Meryl has hit her and she has thrown the body into the underbridge water.”

“Why …………… but who is Meryl(?).”

                                                             ROME. JANUARY 10, 1947.

The courtroom was packed. President of the Court, Judge Roberto Almici, was presiding. He asked prosecution lawyer Ms. Gloria Bloom to call the first witness.

“My Lord, the first witness I have called is none other than Mr. Adriano Vilecchio.”

“Mr. Vilecchio, very good morning to you.”

“Good morning.”

“Mr Vilecchio can you tell the court what happened on the night of December 15.”

“Yes, I will. On 15th of December, 1946, I received a call from Ms. Melanie Stone saying that my daughter Gabriela was grievously injured.”

“Who injured her(?)”

“Meryl Reetherspoone. I have the recorded audio when she called me, I have deposited the tape to prosecution.”

Please run the tape, Judge Roberto Almici ordered.

The tape was run…………………………………….

Hello.

Grandpa, it’s Mili.

Yes darling, what happened.

Grandpa, Gaby ma’am is seriously injured, Meryl has hit her and she has thrown the body into the underbridge water.

Why …………… but who is Meryl(?).

Everyone was stunned.

The court knew who Meryl was. But who was Mili !!

Andrew Costa rose from his chair and walked towards the witness box.

“Good morning, Mr Vilecchio.”

“Good morning, Mr. Costa.”

“The court has heard the tapes, what I want to ask you is how did you know Melanie Stone(?)”

What he described to the courtroom surprised the audience – Adriano Vilecchio had a son Antonio Vilecchio. He was younger to Gabriela. Finishing school he nurtured the desire to excel in studies. Antonio had a way in fashion, he understood fashion and wanted to work in fashion industry. He enrolled himself in University of Creative Arts in London. He was doing very well. Prikly Stone, over time, became very close to Antonio. Finishing studies Prikly wanted to settle down with Antonio.

But, everything came to an end in a flash. Antonio died from an overdose of drugs.

Prikly left fashion industry and settled for a nine to five job in an insurance company. Melanie was born and Prikly raised Melanie while Evonne – her mother helped her with finances. When Evonne died Prikly was left alone – all by herself.

Adriano Vilecchio took all responsibility of her education. Mili was bright, she went to Magdalen to pursue maths. Mili had been in constant touch with Adriano, she studied with confidence knowing her grandfather was a powerful man. Prikly often visited Rome, in private, with Mili. Adriano had given strict instructions to keep the whole thing under wraps – that condition was honoured till Adriano had to come to court and tell the truth!

The judges, the jurors, Costa and the packed crowd listened in rapt attention. The crowd felt a grave injustice had been done to the Vilecchio family. Quite often, filthy rich and enormously powerful men also succumb to queers of fate.

“But, Mr. Vilecchio, can we know what happened to the body of Gabriela Ballatini(?)”, Costa approached Adriano with a wry smile.

“I know as much as you know. I must ask the police what efforts they have made to find Gaby’s body; it has been more than twenty days and we are still searching !!”

Seargent Fabioni, who was in charge of the investigation, informed that till the previous day no body had been found. The search was on and the Court would be informed accordingly.

“Thank you, Mr. Adriano Vilecchio,”, the Judge informed, “please take your seat.”

“Thank you.”

“The Court is adjourned for today. The next hearing will be on Wednesday, 15 January.”  The President of the Court announced. Adriano Vilecchio gave a sharp look at his lawyer, Gloria Bloom, and left the courthouse.

                                                                      JANUARY 15, 1947.

Andrew Costa started his defence from where he had left on Friday.

At one end of the defendant's box sat Meryl, wonderfully beautiful, her honey skin a bit paler than usual, and dressed as though she had just stepped out of Madame Chanel's. There was a regal quality about Meryl, a noble presence that heightened the drama of what was happening to her. It whetted the excitement of the spectators and sharpened their blood lust.

“My Lord, I had stated earlier that our learned friend has not produced the body of Gabriela Ballatini, so we must assume that there is no body, and therefore no murder."

"No, gentlemen, that is not what this trial is about, my client is being tried because she broke another law, an unwritten law that says you must not fornicate with another woman's fiancé. The press has already found her guilty of that charge, and the public has found her guilty, and now they are demanding that she be punished."

Costa stopped to pull out a large white handkerchief, stared at it a moment as if wondering how it had gotten there, blew his nose and replaced the handkerchief in his pocket, "Very well. If she has broken a law, let us punish her. But not for murder, gentlemen. Not for a murder that was never committed. Meryl Reetherspoone was guilty of being the fiancée of Rahul Singh, but if you must know it, you cannot find this crime on the front page of any newspaper. Because it’s not a crime we most people know of."  Costa smiled triumphantly.

Moments later, Gloria Bloom helped a witness for the prosecution to be sworn in.

"Your name?"

"Christian Petit."

"You are a French national, Mr. Petit?"

"Yes."

"And where is your residence?"

"In Paris."

"Would you tell the court your occupation?"

"I am the owner of a private detective agency.”

"And where is that agency located(?)”

"The main one is in Paris."

"What kind of cases do you handle(?)"

"Many kinds, commercial pilfering, missing persons, surveillance for jealous husbands or wives.”

"Monsieur Petit, would you be good enough to look around this courtroom an tell us whether anyone in this room has ever been a client of yours(?)"

A long, slow look around the room. "Yes, madame."

"Would you tell the Court who this person is, please(?)"

"The lady sitting over there. Miss Meryl Reetherspoone." There was a murmur of interest from the spectators.

"Are you telling us that Miss Meryl hired you to do some detective work for her(?)"

"I am, senorita."

"And would you tell us exactly what that work consisted of (?)”

"Yes, madame. She was interested in a man called Mr. Rahul Singh. She wanted me to find out everything I could about him.”

"That is the same Mr. Rahul Singh who is on trial in this courtroom (?)" 

"Yes, madame."

"And Miss Meryl paid you for this?"

"Yes, madame."

"Would you please look at these exhibits in my hand, are these records of the payments that were made to you(?)”

"It is correct."   

Tell us, Monsieur Petit, how did you go out obtaining this information on Mr. Rahul Singh."

"It was very difficult, senorita. You see I was in France and Mr. Rahul Singh was in Italy, later in England, India.”

“And what did you find Monsieur Petit(?)”

“We have proof that Mr. Rahul Singh and Miss Gabriela Ballatini were in love, they often went to the beaches together.”

"Just a moment. I want to be sure that I understand what you are saying, Monsieur Petit. We have been told by Miss Meryl’s attorney that Rahul and Gabriela met a few short months ago and fell madly in love.”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“What more you know about them(?)”

“I want to tell that I have information from a renowned hospital in Rome that Miss Gabriela visited twice to meet a lady doctor in a hospital.”

“Why(?)”

“Because Miss Gabriela was five weeks pregnant and wanted to marry Mr. Rahul Singh.”

“You conveyed this information to Miss Meryl(?)”

“Yes madame.”

Gloria Bloom flashed Costa a triumphant look. "Your witness."

“Monsieur Petit, you are wearing an excellent jacket. It must have cost you a grand”, Costa smiled.

“Have you ever tried the English tailors? They're supposed to be excellent."

"No, monsieur."

"I'm sure you've been to England many times?"

"Well, no, no sir.”

"Have you been to Italy?"

“No sir.”

"Have you ever visited the South Pacific?"

"No, sir."

"Then you must truly be a fantastic detective, Mr. Petit. My hat is off to you. These cohorts of

yours cover the activities of Mr. Rahul Singh in England and Italy - and yet you tell us that you

have never even been to any of these places. I can only assume that you are psychic."

"Permit me to correct you, monsieur. It was not necessary for me to have been in any of those

places. I employ what we call correspondent agencies in England and in Italy."

"Ah, forgive my stupidity. Of course! so were they actually the people who covered the activities of Mr. Rahul Singh?"

"Exactment."

"And so, the fact is that you yourself have no personal knowledge of Mr. Rahul Singh’s movements."

"Well, no sir."

"So, in reality all your information is second hand."

"I suppose, yes."

Costa turned to the judges.

"I move to strike the entire testimony of this witness, Your Honours, on the grounds that it is

hearsay." Gloria Bloom leaped to her feet. "Objection, Your Honours!”

“Meryl Reetherspoone hired Mr. Petit to get information on Rahul Singh. That is not hearsay – his well-travelled colleagues have submitted the records as evidences.”

Costa said gently. "l am perfectly willing to accept it - if he wishes to bring the men here who

actually performed the surveillance of Mr. Rahul. Otherwise, I must request the Court to

assume that there was no such surveillance and that the testimony of this witness be held

inadmissible."

The President of the Court turned to Gloria. “Are you prepared to bring your witnesses here?", he asked.

"That's impossible," Gloria Bloom spluttered. “Costa knows that it would take weeks to locate them!" 

The President turned to Costa. "Motion granted."

It was on a Friday, 18th of July afternoon that the case finally exploded.

"Would you state your name, please?", Gloria Bloom asked.

"Doctor Booker. Marlene Booker."

"Did you ever meet Miss Gabriela Ballatini?”.  Miss Gabriela’s picture was flashed on the screen.

"Yes, I got a call from a gentleman to come near the Oxford underbridge. This woman had been injured in there, when I reached, I found her she was in a state of shock."

"Had she been hurt physically?"

"Yes. There were multiple contusions. Her hands and arms and cheeks had been badly scraped on the rocks. She had fallen down and hit her head, and I diagnosed a probable concussion. She was in shock and mumbled that someone tried to murder her. I immediately gave her a shot of morphine for the pain and requested the gentleman to take her to a London hospital."

"And is that where she went?"

"No, madam. I don’t think so.”

“Who was that gentleman(?)”

“No idea madam. The woman’s injury was important to attend and so I didn’t ask his name.”

"That is all, thank you, Doctor."

“You can take your seat Ms. Booker”, the President said.

Anthony Fritz had been confident his client would get acquittal. Now he felt betrayed. Everything was falling apart. The doctor's testimony was irreparably damaging, both for its evidence and for its emotional impact. It was all over, Fritz thought.

He sat there, paralyzed by the overpowering spectre. He turned to look at Costa. The deep, sad eyes in the hound face were studying the doctor on the witness though trying to come to a decision.

Slowly Andrew Costa rose to his feet. But instead walking over to the witness he moved toward the bench quietly addressing the Judges.

"Mr. President, Your Honours, I do not wish to examine the witness. With the Court's permission, I would like to ask for a recess in order to confer in camera with Court and the Prosecuting Attorney.”

The President of the Court turned to the Prosecutor.

“Gloria?"

"No objection" , Gloria said, her voice wary.

The Court was recessed. Not one person moved, all were glued to their chairs.

Thirty minutes later Andrew Costa returned to the courtroom alone. The instant he walked through chamber door, everyone in the courtroom sensed that something important had taken place. There was an air of secret self-satisfaction in the lawyer's face, his walk was faster and springier, as though some charade had ended an it was no longer necessary to play games.

Costa walked over to the defendant's box and stared down at Meryl, looked up into her face, her violet eyes probing, anxiously. And suddenly a smile touched the lawyer's lips, and seeing the light in his eyes Meryl knew that somehow, he had done it, he had performed the miracle in spite of all the evidence, in spite of all the odds. Rahul Singh was staring at Costa, too, filled with fear and with hope. Whatever Costa had done would have been for Meryl. But what about him?

Then Costa addressed Meryl in a ruefully neutral voice.

“President of the Court has given me permission to speak with you in his chambers." He turned to Anthony Fritz, who was sitting in an agony of uncertainty, not knowing what was going on. “You and your client have permission to join us if you wish."

Fritz nodded. "Of course." He scrambled to his feet, almost knocking over his chair in his eagerness.

Two bailiffs accompanied them to the empty chambers of the president. When the bailiffs had left and they were alone, Costa turned to Anthony Fritz.

"What I am about to say", he said quietly, "is for the benefit of my client. However, because they are co-defendants, I have been able to arrange for your client to be accorded the same privilege as mine." 

"Tell me!". Meryl was anxious.

Costa turned to her. He spoke slowly choosing his words with great care. “I have just had a conference with the judges," he said. "They were impressed with the case the prosecution has made against you.”

“How ever”, he paused, delicately, "I was able to persuade them that the interests of justice would not be served by punishing you."

"What's going to happen?". Fritz demanded in a fever of impatience.

There was a note of deep satisfaction in Costa's voice as he continued,

"If the defendants are willing to change their pleas to guilty, the judges have agreed to give each of them five-year sentence." He smiled and added, "Four years of which will be suspended. In reality they will not have to serve more than six months." He turned to Rahul. "Because you are an Indian, Mr. Rahul, you will be deported. You will never be permitted to return to Italy."

Rahul nodded, his body flooding with relief.

Costa turned back to Meryl. "This was not an easy thing to accomplish. I must tell you in honesty that the primary reason for the leniency of the Court is the interest of Miss Gabriela’s father. Mr. Adriano Vilecchio has requested to come to a conclusion quickly, he has suffered a lot for her daughter, prosecution has not found the whereabouts of Gabriela and the court has devoted 24 sessions, almost six months on this case. It is a tired jury, the judges believe, and the president of the court doesn’t want to engage them further. They feel Mr. Vilecchio has already suffered unduly because of all this publicity, and they are anxious to see it ended."

"I understand”, Meryl said.

Fifteen minutes later the two defendants stood before the judges' bench. The President of the Court was seated in the centre, flanked by the justices. Andrew Costa stood next to Meryl Reetherspoone and Anthony Fritz stood at the side of Rahul Singh. The courtroom was charged with an electric tension, for word had flashed about the room that a dramatic development was about to take place. But, when it came, it caught everyone completely off guard. In a formal, pedantic voice, Andrew Costa said, "Mr. President, Your Honours, my client wishes to change her plea from not guilty to guilty.”

The President of the Court leaned back in his chair and stared at Costa.

The President consulted with the other justices in a flurry of whispers. They nodded and the President looked down at Meryl and said, "Do you wish to change your plea to guilty?"

Meryl nodded and said firmly, "I do."

Anthony Fritz spoke up quickly, as though afraid of being left out of the procedure. "Your Honors, my client wishes to change his plea from not guilty to guilty."

The President turned towards Rahul. "Do you wish to change your plea to guilty(?)

Rahul glanced at Costa and then nodded, "Yes."

The President studied the two prisoners, his face grave. "Have your attorneys advised you that under Italian law the penalty for the crime of premeditated murder is execution?" 

"Yes, Your Honour", Meryl’s voice was strong and clear.

The President turned to look at Rahul.

"'Yes, sir", he said.

There was another whispered consultation among the judges. The President of the Court turned to Gloria Bloom, "Does the Prosecutor of the State have any objection to the change of pleas from not guilty to guilty(?).”

Gloria looked at Costa for a long moment, then said, "None."

“Very well", the President said. "This Court has no choice but to accept the change of plea."

He turned to the jury "Gentlemen, in view of this new development, you are here with released from your duties as jurymen. In effect, the trial has come to an end. The Court will pass sentence. Thank you for your services and for your cooperation. The Court will recess for two hours."

In the next moment the reporters began to tumble out of the room, racing to their telephones and teletype machines to report the latest sensational development in the murder trial of Meryl Reetherspoone and Rahul Singh.

Two hours later the courtroom was packed to overflowing as the Court was reconvened. Meryl glanced around, at the faces of the spectators - they were watching her with expressions of eager expectation, and it was all Meryl could do to keep from laughing aloud at their naiveté. These were the common people, the masses, and they really believed that justice was meted out fairly, that under a democracy all men were created equal, that a poor man had the same rights and privileges as a rich man.

Alas !! She looked at Rahul. Probably she was seeing for the last time her dear Rahul, what she had done destroyed their lives, destroyed their togetherness, destroyed their charming time ahead. Rahul would not be permitted out of India and she had to just but imagine Rahul with her, their loving moments together.

"Will the defendants now rise and approach the bench”, the President ordered.

Gracefully Meryl rose, to her feet and moved toward the bench, Costa at her side. From the corner of her eye, she saw Rahul and Fritz stepping forward.

The President of the Court spoke, “This has been a long and difficult trial”, for capital cases where there is a reasonable doubt of guilt, the Court is always inclined to let the accused have the benefit of doubt. I must admit that in this case we felt that there existed such a doubt. The fact that the State was unable to produce a corpus delicti was a very strong point in favour of the defendants.”

He turned to look at Andrew Costa, “I am sure that the able counsel for the defence is well aware that the Italian Courts have never given the death penalty in a case where a murder has not been definitely proven to have committed.”

A faint sense of unease was beginning to brush Meryl, nothing alarming yet, just the merest whisper, the slightest hint.

The President went on, “My colleagues and I were,  for that reason,  frankly surprised when the defendants decided to change their plea to guilty, in mid-trial.”

The feeling was in the pit of Meryl’s stomach now, moving upward, beginning to constrict her throat, she was suddenly finding it difficult to breathe. Rahul was gazing blindly at the Judge, not fully comprehending yet what was happening.

"We appreciate the agonizing soul-searching that must have taken place before the defendants decided to confess guilt before this Court and before the world. However, the easing of their consciences cannot be accepted as atonement for the terrible crime they have admitted committing, the cold-blooded murder of a helpless, defenceless woman."

It was at that moment that Meryl knew, with a sudden, mind-smashing certainty that she had been tricked. Costa had set up a charade of false security so that he could do this to her. This was his game; this was the trap he had baited. Vilecchio had wanted his vengeance now, not later.

Her life could have been saved. Of course, Costa had known that she would not get the death penalty unless a corpse was produced. He had made no deal with the judges. Costa had rigged this whole defence to lure Meryl to her death. She turned to look at him. He looked up to meet her gaze, and his eyes were filled with a genuine sadness. Andrew Costa had murdered her, and if he had to do it over again, he would do the same thing, for in the end he was Vilecchio’s man, and he could not fight his power.

The President was speaking, “and so under the powers invested in me by the State, and in accordance with its laws, I pronounce that the sentence on the two defendants, Meryl Reetherspoone and Rahul Singh shall be execution by a firing squad. The sentence to be carried out within ninety days from this date."

The Court was in pandemonium.

Something had made Meryl turn around. The vacant seat which was earlier empty, Adriano Vilecchio sat in it. He was dressed in a blue raw-silk suit, flawlessly tailored, a light blue shirt, and a foulard tie. His eyes were bright and alive.

Vilecchio had come to watch Meryl in the moment of her defeat, savouring the terror in her. His black eyes were locked on hers and for a split instant she saw in them a deep, malevolent satisfaction. And there was something else. Regret, perhaps, but it was gone before she could capture it.

                                                                The chess game was finally over.

Rahul had listened to the President's last words in shocked disbelief, and when a bailiff stepped forward and took him by the arm, Rahul shook loose and turned back to the bench.

 "Wait a minute!" , he yelled. "I didn't kill her! They framed me.”

Another bailiff hurried forward and the two men held Rahul. One of them pulled out a pair of handcuffs.

"No!", Rahul was screaming. "Listen to me! I didn't kill her!”

He tried to jerk away from the bailiffs, but the handcuffs snapped on his wrists and he was yanked away, out of the room.

Meryl felt a pressure on her arm. A matron was waiting there to escort her out of the courtroom.

"They're waiting for you, Miss Meryl."

The realization hit Meryl that this was the last time in her life that she would ever be in public, the last time that she would be around other people, uncaged.

This was her farewell appearance, this dirty, dreary Rome her final jaunt. She looked around the packed courtroom the last time. She saw Shane Gough staring at her in stunned silence, shaken for once out of his structured world.

The matron was tugging at her arm now, “Come along, Miss Meryl.”

Anthony Fritz was in a state of shock. He had not only been a witness to a cold-blooded frame-up; he had been a party to it. He could go to the President of the Court and tell him what had happened, what transpired and what Costa had promised. But would they believe him? Would they take his word against the word of Andrew Costa? It really didn't matter, Fritz thought bitterly.

After this he would be finished as a lawyer. No one would ever hire him again. Someone spoke his name and he turned and Costa was standing there saying, "If you're free tomorrow, why don't you come and have lunch with me, Anthony? I'd like you to meet my partners. I think you have done a wonderful job!”

After the President of the Court exited through the door that led to his private chamber, Fritz turned back to Andrew Costa, his mind still filled with the horror of what this man had done; he heard himself saying, "That's very kind of you, sir. What would be a convenient time to meet you(?)”.

By Italian law, executions took place at Basse di Stura riverside, off Turin, a special government boat transported condemned prisoners to the riverside. A series of small grey cliffs led to the river itself and high on a hill was a lighthouse built on an outcropping of rock.

It was 4.00 am on a Saturday morning, Meryl’s execution was scheduled to take place at 6.00 am.

They had brought Meryl her favourite dress to wear, a wine red, brushed-wool Dior, and matching suede shoes. She had all new silk handstitched lingerie and a white jabot of Venetian lace for her throat. On instructions from Adriano Vilecchio, Meryl had been given her favourite hairdresser to do her hair. It was as though Meryl were preparing to go to a party.

Intellectually, Meryl knew that there would be no lastminute reprieve, that in a little while her body was going to be brutally violated and her blood spilled upon the ground. And yet emotionally she could not keep from hoping that somehow, someone would make a miracle and spare her life. It would not even have to be a miracle - it only needed God, a wave of his golden hand. If he spared her now, she would make it up for her wrongdoings. She would do anything, if she could only see the Almighty, she would tell him she would never do harm to another woman or to another man, that she would devote to making everyone happy !!

Rahul would be executed at 7.30 am the same day.

Adriano Vilecchio summoned Costa the next day to his office. He was congratulated by Adriano for the case had gone his way and Costa had done a wonderful job. He gave him the keys to his new car, Rolls Royce Phantom III Labourdette and the new office he would be owning. Adriano had purchased a lavish bungalow in Los Angeles and would be gifted to Andrew Costa in due time.

                                                EARLIER ON THE NIGHT OF DECEMBER 15, 1946.

When Mellanie Stone saw the fierce altercation Meryl had with Gabriela, she was terrified. She ran inside and called from her room.

“Hello.”

“Grandpa, it’s Mili.”

“Yes darling, what happened(?).”

“Grandpa, Gaby ma’am is seriously injured, Meryl has hit her and she has thrown the body into the underbridge water.”

“Why …………… but who is Meryl(?).”

Mili spoke to Adriano Velacchio at length and told him everything. He told Mili to inform Carl immediately, he is in Oxford. Mili spoke to Carl and both ran to the spot where Meryl and Shane had pushed Gabriela into the waters. Carl took a boat and told Mili to keep mum. Carl saw an old man at a distance in the night taking a silhouette on his shoulders haltingly and with great effort.

Frusco Daniil was an old man in his seventies. He was coming home from the Grand Cemetery, where he used to work. Daniil had to support his ailing wife and a son, Derek, whose both legs were amputated after an accident.

                                                     Carl helped Gabriela reach Frusco’s house.

“Boss, Gabriela is safe. She is being nursed by an excellent family of Frusco Daniil out in the woods. I have got hold of a doctor and she has given heavy dose of morphine, she is stable.”

“Very good. Please stay with Gaby and tell her to remain in Frusco’s house till I come personally to pick her up. The rest I’d be telling you in a minute”, Vilecchio signed off with a sigh of relief.

“Ok, boss.”

AFTER THE EXECUTION OF MERYL AND RAHUL

Adriano Vilecchio sent Frusco Daniil and his son to Walter Reed Military Hospital in Bethesda, Maryland for the best prosthetic legs for his son Derek. He sent an aide with Frusco, who would be accompanying him and his son and would stay at the hospital until Derek recovered fully. Colonel John Bryan would take care of Derek.

Gabriela Ballatini was airlifted to an unknown place in Australia, away from the teeming humdrum. She needed rest and good health. She was going to be a mother soon. She settled in Australia with a new life and with a new identity.

Gaby had left Oxford at the request of her father. Vilecchio hugged his daughter, “darling, you don’t worry. Those wicked people are dead.”

Carl took Frusco’s wife to Rome, she would be undergoing treatment under Vilecchio’s watch.

Mellanie Stone went to MIT to pursue her dream. She kept visiting Gabriela and often went to Rome spending time with Grandpa.

Prikly Stone remained in London. She was heading the Insurance Office and made a name of herself!

Disclaimer: All characters in this article are imaginary and have no resemblance to any person(s) dead or alive.