“You will want to know what the connection is between the Vitelli and the Wolf of Hades. Well, my children, the answer is simple. The estates of the Vitelli used to cover a large part of the Campi Phlegraei including Lake Avernus. In the past the Signors of the Vitelli claimed to have the protection of the beast in the lake which they said they cared for. Perhaps it is a tale that would raise no more than a smile nowadays. But in the past it was a good way of ensuring the obedience of the superstitious peasantry, for they would always be afraid of having their souls thrown to the Devil by the Vitelli.”
He paused and took another drink from the tall glass which was encrusted with dew. Ben remembered the awe with which he had been treated by old Emilio when he mistakenly showed him the metal emblem, but he decided to say nothing for now, as the old man continued his story.
“The Vitelli therefore came to adopt the Wolf of Hades as their badge – what you call a coat of arms in England. It is many years since I went to the Villa Rafallo, which is the first home of the Vitelli, but you will have been there recently, Francesca?”
“That is right, Grandpapa - only two weeks ago.”
“Did you notice the carved coat of arms in the stonework above the doorway?”
She shook her head. “No, I didn’t. I was in the back of the car and we drove straight into the courtyard.”
“Well, if it has not changed, there will be a likeness of the Wolf of Hades in the centre-piece above the gate.” The old man raised his eyes to Ben. “So, Signor Cartwright, the thing you found in Toni’s hand binds his death to the Vitelli. In the old days the people would have believed that his soul had been claimed by the Wolf of Hades.”
“You do not fear this superstition yourself?” asked Ben.
The other man thought for a minute. “Well, perhaps I do a little. The only thing that I do know is that there are more evil things in this world than there are in the next.”
“What does it mean if I have this in my possession?”
“Oh, do not fear for yourself. You have come by the mark by chance. It is if, in defending yourself, you were to strike with it or to throw it at another person and to hit them that they would fear that the mark was upon them and that the Wolf would be coming to claim their soul.” He smiled at Ben. “You may find you have a powerful weapon when you are dealing with some people.”
That comment made Ben wonder about the demand which the hood with the knife had made in the living room of the flat in Naples. He was almost sure the man had mentioned the word “mock”, or perhaps it was “mark”, the meaning of which had been unclear to him at the time. However he didn’t think it relevant to mention this now. Instead he said, “Well, I now understand the background to the enmity between your two families. However I still do not understand why Toni was killed or why the Vitelli should wish to take away my business. I suppose my next step is to go to Mancino Vitelli for those explanations.”
The old man raised his hand with a finger pointing to the heavens. “Please make sure you take great care if you are thinking of going to the Villa Rafallo. When Toni left me six days ago his intention was to meet Mancino Vitelli. We know what happened to him. The Wolf of Hades can be a very unforgiving man.”
Something in his words made Ben shiver. Looking out across the sea he realised that the evening was by now well advanced. To the West a deep magenta sun was sinking towards the horizon. It was laced across by a few thin tendrils of cloud. From the sun a carpet of flashing orange reflections spread out towards them on the surface of the water and nearly reached to the foot of the cliff where they sat. The sky was bathed in a variety of colours from rose to carmine. In the East the short Italian dusk was gathering over the land, preparing to spread its mantle of darkness over them.
Ben was tired. In this state, the story which he had heard from the pale, cultured voice of the old man seemed all too plausible. It was easy enough to believe that the evil Wolf of Hades would be abroad tonight under the cloak of darkness in its search for errant souls. He stood up, aware that he had been sitting for too long on the hard chair by the balustrade.
Francesca, in her thin cotton dress, was also feeling the cold. She jumped to her feet. “Grandpapa,” she said. “It is nearly dark. It is time for me to take you into the house.”
The old man slowly pulled himself upright. “You will stay to dinner?” he asked. “In fact you must stay the night, for the last of the aliscafi has gone and they do not run after sunset. I regret that I have only one spare bed. So, unless you are lovers, one of you will have to sleep on the floor.”
Francesca turned a smile on Ben that made his heart leap for a second. “That is all right, Grandpapa. Signor Cartwright has had so many disturbed nights recently that I think it is I who should sleep on the floor. He has a busy day ahead of him tomorrow.”
But the old man seemed not to hear. His sightless eyes were gazing somewhere faraway where an old memory had been reawakened.
“There is one more thing I should tell you while you are here. I am told that the volcano Solfatara is active again. The same old myths say that, when this happens, the Wolf of Hades is abroad once again and that he will not return to his lair without his bag of souls. You should think on that.” Then he gave a mirthless chuckle which made Ben’s scalp prickle. “It all depends on whether you believe the old stories.”
His words unsettled Ben. In fact, after they had enjoyed a meal prepared by Grandpapa’s maid and a bottle of good Chianti, it took him a long time to get to sleep that night in his borrowed sleeping bag on the hard tiled floor.