“You’re surrounded! Give up, and come down from there,” Badali said.
Serafina stopped and turned to the trapeze artist. “We know you killed Cecco!”
Roberto jumped up to a standing position on the bar, his gun following Serafina and Teo. “His death was instant. I gave him peace.”
But Rosa, who’d taken the rope in both hands, shook it, sending rippling waves up and down its length, catching the acrobat off guard, and pitching him and his trapeze from side to side. Then she ran to join Serafina, the plumes of her hat wafting in the heavy air.
Instead of falling, the acrobat leapt off the bar in a graceful arc, soaring to a great height before somersaulting and righting himself to land on both feet. Waving his gun, he corralled the five. “Watch this young man die.”
He aimed his gun at Teo.
“Don’t shoot!” Serafina yelled, hiding Teo in the folds of her voluminous skirts.
It seemed as if they stood fixed forever in a tableau she’d designed, Roberto in the center of their doomed semicircle. Serafina’s heart pounded. They’d be killed, and she was to blame. Her children and Tessa would be orphans, and all because of her own pride and foolhardiness, her wish to outshine Colonna. She shielded Teo as she had on that fateful day by the sea, trembling, wishing she could turn back time. Roberto aimed for her, his arms gripping the gun, strong and steady. He cocked the hammer. Slowly his finger began to squeeze the trigger.
Serafina stared at him, waiting for her own death, when she felt a giant suck of wind as Barco who suddenly appeared, cracked his whip. It wrapped around the acrobat’s throat, and the revolver tumbled to the ground.