Chapter 6: Meeting Dante

Jon stayed inside his cabin for the rest of the journey. He felt claustrophobic and without anything of interest to look at, felt every movement of the boat. He could not take his mind off the image of the body being dragged across the deck and the trail of smeared blood. The crew did not seem at all disturbed by what they were doing, as if it was just some cargo that needed to be transferred somewhere. As for Captain Salazar, he seemed not in the least affected that one of his crew had died, but furious that Jon witnessed the body being pulled across the deck. Jon thought about the poor crew member who fell overboard and wondered if he or she was one of those who served him not too long ago. He inadvertently began recalling the faces of the crew whom he met when a question surfaced in his mind. How were they able to recover the body from the sharks? That one, Jon can answer: Perhaps they have tools on board, maybe a net or hooks, whatever they use for fishing. Then, another question came nagging at him. Shouldn't they be dragging it in the opposite direction? The crew seemed to be dragging the body towards the railing and they wouldn't do that. Unless... unless they were feeding the body to the sharks!

Cold air seemed to surround Jon as the realization hit him. He suddenly sat up and pressed his clasped hands to his chin as he tried to provide a logical answer to what he witnessed. Soon, he felt the yacht slow down and change direction. In a few minutes, he heard a knock on the door and saw two of the crew standing outside. One of the crew spoke and informed Jon that they were docking in a few minutes. They had come to fetch him and help him with his luggage.

Jon was relieved to be taking his steps outside of the yacht. He felt some relief being released from the cabin which he considered as a temporary prison. As he stood on the dock, he realized that instead of sandy beaches he imagined Orsica to have, there was only  a rocky shore on which nothing grew except a few hardy mangroves. There were more mangroves in the distance and down the path they were walking on. Up ahead, the trees became thicker and seemed impenetrable.

The waves had become stronger with the rising wind and Jon was all the more thankful that they had arrived. He felt the water spray on his skin as more waves came crashing to the rocky shore, driven by the wind that was growing colder as the daylight slowly faded.

"Where's Captain Salazar?" Jon asked one of the crew when he did not see the captain while disembarking.

"He was summoned to the house by the master." The crew's reply was direct, as if read from a script. Jon noticed that even the crew shared the captain's lack of emotion. They merely helped Jon with his luggage with no intention of engaging him in conversation.

"I was hoping that I could talk to him and thank him personally," said Jon, thinking that he could probably talk to the captain at his client's house.

Just as written in the client's files, the house was located on a mountain near the western coast of the island. Jon could see it from the dock, a red mansion rising near the summit, and was awed by its imposing appearance against the verdant trees that covered the mountain, like a marble tombstone jutting out of grass-covered earth.

Twilight had given the mansion an almost unnatural glow as it faced the dying sun. The rosy light gradually became darker and turned a deeper red hue. Jon watched as the mansion soon became bathed in what seemed like crimson paint. A trick of light accentuated the already reddish wood and stone of the façade.

He was directed to a small station which was the terminal of a cable car that led to the summit. At first, Jon felt anxious as he observed that he would be suspended high above the ground, once more triggering his active imagination and his fear of falling. Jon's heartbeat raced when the wheels pulling the cable started to turn and he heard the sound of metal grinding against metal as the machinery pulled the gondola higher from the ground. To calm his fears, Jon concentrated on the view above and the imposing structure that signified his client's wealth.

It was dusk and for a few moments, Jon was able to catch a glimpse of the moon rising above the mansion along with a few stars. In some ways, he felt comforted by the sight of the waning gibbous moon. Then, black clouds covered the eastern sky, obstructing his view of the moon and all of its light.

Jon felt a sudden jolt and noticed that the gondola had stopped. The door opened and he stepped off. The feeling of the firm ground underneath his feet was reassuring and he gathered himself to meet his client.

A female attendant came to meet Jon and accompanied him on the short path leading to the mansion's entrance. The mansion was much more impressive up close and Jon was quick to admire the combination of colonial Spanish and modern architecture. He thought about the difficulty of bringing all these building materials to the island as well as the equipment and manpower necessary to construct such an imposing structure.

The tall doors opened and Jon was amazed at the large entrance hall. The attendant led Jon to one of the large comfortable seats and asked him to wait as the master would be with him shortly.

Jon was quick to notice the tiled floor and the rich carpet as well as the large paintings that adorned the walls. The geometric patterns on the walls as well as the tessellations on the tiles reminded him of the decorative art of the Alhambra. The artfully placed lamps highlighted the wall decorations and the paintings that featured scenes from ancient mythology and history. He recognized Charon ferrying tormented souls on the River Styx, a battle scene showing soldiers being trampled underfoot by Hannibal's war elephants, and gladiators battling to the death in one of Rome's arenas.

At the center of the hall was a crystal chandelier that brilliantly lit the room. Near the stairs, there was a bronze sculpture that Jon was eager to look at. He approached it and he was reminded of Michelangelo's sculpture of the Rebellious Slave. However, aside from being made of metal instead of white marble, the sculpture did not seem to show defiance, but pain and torture. Jon once again remembered the grotesque rock formation he saw while on board the Golden Cowrie and heard the silent scream in his head.

Jon was motionless for a moment and then turned from the bronze sculpture to face the hall. His eyes watered at the gleaming assault on his senses. The hall looked like an art museum, Jon thought, and observed the absence of windows or any natural light. As much as he adored art, Jon wondered if he could live in this place. Everywhere he looked, he seemed to be surrounded by images of agony and human suffering.

Jon felt a quickening of his heartbeat and he tried to breathe normally as the light from the lamps seemed to sear through his eyes. In his head, he heard the screams of tortured slaves and dying soldiers. The sound of clanging swords and galloping horses joined the wails and cries of souls begging for release. The walls seemed to revolve around Jon and he tried to stay on his feet. He was still gasping for breath when he saw one of the doors open. Suddenly, everything went still and the hall was once more silent as a graveyard.

A door creaked open and  a man seated in a wheelchair came in, pushed by the attendant who met Jon earlier.

"I see you are already admiring my paintings. It isn't often that I see someone as appreciative of my collection." Dante's voice sounded eerily calm in a room that only moments ago sounded unbearably loud to Jon.

Jon recovered from his disorientation and shook his client's hand. He introduced himself and was quick to receive a peremptory nod. Dante's hand felt cold, thought Jon, as he was told by his client to sit on one of the sofas in the room. Jon was relieved to have the weight off his legs and tried to relax.

Dante turned out to be quite different than Jon had imagined. The dossier did not mention his client's age, so he was quick to think that he was an elderly man who had probably amassed too much wealth than he could handle. The man in front of Jon turned out to be a lot younger, probably in his late forties. His face still bore no deep wrinkles that Jon expected and his hair was jet black with wavy curls. His eyes were a deep black which gave a penetrating stare.

Dante spoke again. "I am sorry that I was not able to meet you down the dock, but as you can see, I am hardly able to pull myself up. I trust that your journey was comfortable." Dante said in his deep voice that was cold and devoid of expression.

"It had been a long trip to be honest, but I am glad that I was able to arrive safe and sound," came the reply from Jon.

"I am not one to receive many visitors and you will be one of just a few in many years." At this, Dante waved his hand and his attendant left the room. "I suffered great misfortunes due to the deceitfulness and betrayal of people I trusted. I hope that you will not be one of them." Dante paused. "There are some properties that I am interested in buying and given my current condition, I am unable to personally go and oversee the transactions. I am once again placing my trust in other people." Dante's voice rose and he looked intently at Jon, watching for reactions.

Jon found his voice and with a slight bow said, "I will do everything I can to help you accomplish your goals. I am all at your disposal."

At this, Dante's eyes gleamed and from the corners of his mouth formed a slight smile. His lips parted slightly, revealing peculiarly sharp teeth.