Chapter 16

Like a lost pin on the white sandy beach of Boracay Island in the Philippines, Matilda Begot went missing the next day from Rafeal Massimo's castle. It was brought to the attention of Lady Stefflon Don when she saw only Isabella doing the house chores.

A search party was immediately launched, comprising of the Rafeals in one hand and the kitchen crew in the other. They searched for Matilda within the expansive house and the guards foraged for her in the outdoors.

Mrs Blanche was more worried than others; the hunt took her to the strangest of places like the oven and the flower vases, even under the chairs. Like Mrs Blanche, Rafeal isn't feeling at ease at her disappearance too which he thought was connected to his ridiculous demands of the previous night but refused to air it or he would be condemned by Lady Stefflon Don.

After an hour and a half of a thorough search, Marco Roberto, the chief guard walks up to Lady Stefflon Don and told her that Matilda was seen bundling her belongings into a saloon car in the early hours and pleaded with him not to tell anyone of her whereabouts. Lady Stefflon was unhappy at the disheartening news. "Did she tell you the reasons for her ouster and where she was going?" She asked, "No, madam," he answered, feeling guilty. "But actually, she told me she was done living here. But for her whereabouts, that, I cannot tell because I have given her my words."

A nasty look from Lady Stefflon Don makes Marco Roberto begin to confess: "Okay madam," he said, "promise me that you will not tell her it was me that told you, or else she will kill me if she finds out."

"Verily' Mr Roberto, " said Lady Stefflon Don, "I promise to keep it to myself."

"At least, I am now safe. Matilda Begot told me that she was heading north to the city of Turin to her cousin's house."

"Is that all that she told you, no addresses?" "I swear Lady Stefflon, that was about all she told me."

"Thank you Roberto for your sincerity." Lady Stefflon Don turns to the other people and announces to them that the search is over. "But why, mother?" Asked Deloria. Lady Stefflon shrugs and said to her, "I now know the whereabouts of the illustrious one."

"Where exactly, mother?"

"To her relatives in Turin, sweetheart."

"Does she have to do that unceremoniously?"

"Well, she has to," said Lady Stefflon, "probably to drive home a point?"

"That was the most disgusting way to drive home a point. I think she has little regard for us and should be severely punished for that."

"No," said Lady Stefflon, "for the past half-decade that she has been with us, not for once such a thing has happened. I sensed there must be a reason behind it that will make me pay a wanton sum of money to hire a detective to do whatever he can to bring whatever that was hidden to light.

Me Rafeal, seated at the balcony on top of his voice to get his wife's attention: "Mat Mosel!" He yelled, "what is good about the gathering that am missing?"

"Nah!" She exclaimed, warding off his comments with the wave of her hand. "It's nothing," she said, "just one of those buzz talks that makes my head spin."

"Buzz talk? What do you mean by buzz talk Stefflon?"

"Oh, there you are again caught playing one of those ignorance games of yours. How would you not know what buzz talk is, Rafeal?" Wait for me for a minute, I am coming up to explain to you what it means and maybe you will get it when am closer to you."

She ascended onto the balcony with great effort, with Mascara cheering her from behind. "Haah!" She gasped thrusting out a gust of air from her mouth as fatigue began to set in. "It would have been easier for me to climb Mount Everest than going up this architectural blonder your contractor committed on this killer steep slope called stairs; you two doesn't have me in mind when you plan this dwelling."

"Says who," asked Rafeal in a euphoric banter, "that's because you've absconded from your regimen classes. Now, what are you trying to tell me before that I could not get you?"

"Rafeal, will you allow me to catch my breath before you attack me with questions?"

"Oh well, go ahead and catch it; I will give you ample allowance if that's what you want." Rafeal continues to crack his pea-nuts and pay her no attention.

"It's Matilda," she said after a long pause. "What about her?" He asked, popping forward from his reposing position and looked at Lady Stefflon closely, expecting to hear a bombshell.

"I think something grave must be wrong with her; she has been behaving rather strange lately. She was caught celebrating something at an odd hour: drinking like a fish and dancing to some kind of outlawed music. Isn't that sound strange enough to you, Rafeal?"

Rafeal hisses, "I see nothing strange about that, my love. It could be that the poor girl's boyfriend has handed her a marriage proposal and it's making her go bananas! Relax, my love, it's nothing to worry about. When they have finished sorting out themselves, she will be back." Mascara tries to make sense of what their discussions were all about but can't just get it. So, he tilted his attention to something else and that would be a Mosel lying idle in its dish. He crawls forward and attacks it with a sweeping tongue and chews it 'mnom, mnom, mom' and then he licks the edges of its mouth from end to end and laid low again.

******

The drama that defined most of his stay in Saint Petersburg has significantly received in his new home and he has made a solemn promise to himself to make piety his watchword. To effect this, Alessandro loiters only within and around the multi-million dollar fourteen bedroom mansion for good seven days, surfing the world wide web and journaling from the encyclopedia of the medieval origins about topics that intrigue him: The giant Siberian Unicorn, a mammoth-sized one horn beast of legend that walked the Eurasian steppes from around two million years ago.

He read extensively on this species of animal and came up with some eye-popping findings: The huge black bull covered in hair, thought to have a large horn protruding from its forehead. That the beast stood around 6.56 feet tall and 14.76 feet long and weighed an impressive 4 tonnes. That their habitat traversed from east of modern-day Kazakhstan. His findings furthermore show a long habitation of ancient Rhinos in the southeast of the West Siberian Plain, a location not too distant from Alessandria's present residence of Omsk. This has motivated him immensely to go out there on a limb and explore the possible footprints of this magical creature.

As time went on, routine set in as he continues to do one thing day in day out. On the evening of that day, Alessandro told his Mongolian Chef, Ulan, not to prepare the night meals because he has a plan of taking them out for supper at a Russian restaurant for a change. Ulan was delighted at the prospect of going out on a dinner date with his boss.

They opted for an extravagantly stylish restaurant at the city's nerve Centre and plunged into it; adding spring to their steps to gel with the bumbling settings. Life in this city is more of a subdued one compared to the urbane Saint Petersburg where single honey are foxy and polished when placed side by side with their counterparts here. This makes Alessandro relax his guard and enjoy the best of the sights and sounds of Siberia.

The first thing that got his attention was the soft rock music being played in the background. Everyone was busy with their meals; while some stab what lies before them, others just sat, brooding over cups of coffee.

Alessandro, Ulan and the driver took a position at a far corner of the eatery where they could see through the large expansive glasses of the happenings in the outdoors.

They all placed their orders, with Ulan guiding Alessandro with his choice of meal. Trivial talks go on between them while their glasses are being filled with larger beer. There was something remarkable going on at the other end of the restaurant which did not immediately cross their sights until now. A group of merrymakers sat together with their girlfriends on a large table numbering twelve, with the ladies outnumbering their make counterparts by eight, playing the famous Russian roulette. Alessandro and his crew took deliveries of their orders while still watching in awe of the killer game.

One of the guys picks an empty revolver and showed it to others to certify that it was empty and slots in one silvery bullet. He then covers it and rolls it so that both the shooter and the would-be-shot doesn't know which pot the bullet was stuck in. At the count of three, the huge teen in possession of the gun pulls off the trigger. The other who thinks himself a clown fell in mock death. Everyone present was amused but Alessandro finds it worrisome; "soonest," he said, "it could turn into an irritating bloody affair."

Halfway onto their supper, three ladies and five gentlemen that were playing the roulette strolled across to their table from the other side when they least expected it, they were Ulan's acquaintances. They were surprised to see Ulan who they labelled as a celebrity chef eating out in a local cafeteria. Ulan was overexcited with their coming. He introduced them to his boss, Alessandro as his good friends and they were all absorbed into the fraternity and had fun.

The presence of three young ladies rings an alarm in Alessandro's head, he refused to make eye contact with any one of them throughout their stay. He concentrated on their male friends whom he found to be extremely interesting, especially Natalie, the minimalist and Marcus, the temperamental, who is loud and erratic most times. Two bright intellectuals from the Siberian University whom Alessandro found the depth and quality of their views in a topical issue to be fascinating but sadly, time was not on his side to discuss further so, he handed them an invite to his house the next day, excluding the ladies from the list of the invitees. The three ladies felt dumped by Alessandro's gory attitude therefore, they staged a walkout without warning making everyone worried.

"They should have been invited too," said Marcus, "we are a clique, you know; we shouldn't be segregated or we will lose their friendship. It's either you invite us all or lose all of us. Choose which one you want, Alessandro."

"Come all," he said, " everyone is cordially invited."