had just recognized the voice of the person who had uttered these last words, the Dominican Father Ignazio Amici, who together with his uncle presided over the local court of the Inquisition, when the door of the room opened wide and the satisfied grinning of two armed guards was drawn on his bow.
Chapter 4
Culture is the only thing that makes us happy
(Arnoldo Foà)
The insistent sound of the alarm clock managed to catapult Lucia back into everyday reality. With the same hand with which she had silenced the ringer, she found the packet of cigarettes on the bedside table. It had become her custom to light the first cigarette as soon as she woke up, but in recent times she had even done so before leaving the bed. Then she would reach the bathroom with the smoking stick in her mouth, devote herself to the toilet and make-up, occasionally taking a big puff of smoke, throw her cigarette butt in the toilet and earn her way into the kitchen to prepare her coffee, after which she would light another cigarette, concentrating on the new working day that awaited her. In the workplace she was absolutely not allowed to smoke, so even if she sometimes thought that this vice would be very harmful in the long run, she would throw behind her shoulders any hesitation while watching the red tip light up every time she sucked.
My body needs its dose of nicotine, so much for that puritanical dean of the foundation!, Lucia often thought lighting her third cigarette of the day, the one that allowed her to get a decent hour without having to leave her place of work before the breakfast break. In the year 2017 the spring was very rainy and, although it was the end of May, the temperature had not yet reached the summer average; so, especially in the morning at the time of going out, it was still cool, and it was difficult to decide which was the most suitable dress to wear. A quick glance at the wardrobe, while wearing a light, flesh-coloured, almost invisible pantyhose, made the choice for that day fall on a red, long-sleeved, but not wintery, dress of a length suitable to leave the legs bare just above the knee. A thread of lipstick, two strokes of brush to her naturally wavy brown hair, a line of pencil to emphasize the hazelnut of her eyes, a last pull from the cigarette, whose cigarette butt remained punctually smoking in the ashtray, and Lucia Balleani, twenty-eight years old, one meter seventy-five centimetres of austere beauty, almost unattainable by the common man, graduated in ancient literature, specializing in medieval history, was ready to face the impact with the external environment. She was one of the last descendants of a noble Jesi family, the Baldeschi-Balleani and, ironically, despite the fact that from birth she had never been able to live and dwell in the sumptuous family residence in Piazza Federico II - let alone in the beautiful villa outside Jesi - she now found herself working just in that palace. She had willingly accepted the job offered her by the Hohenstaufen Foundation, which had found its natural home there, in the very square where tradition says that in 1194 Frederick II of Swabia, prince and later emperor of the Hohenstaufen family, was born. Like all noble families, from the 1950s onwards, when sharecropping with the income from immense agricultural estates inherited from time immemorial ended, the Baldeschi-Balleani were not immune from gambling away most of the family’s possessions, selling them or selling them off to the highest bidder, in order to maintain the standard of living to which they were accustomed. The Baldeschi branch, a little wiser, had moved in part to Milan, where it had set up a small but profitable design and architecture company, and in part to Umbria, where it ran a charming farm holiday in the green hills of Paciano. The Balleani branch was left with the crumbs and Lucia’s father continued with tenacity and little profit to run the farm, which consisted of plots of land scattered throughout the countryside of Jesi and Osimo. Lucia was a girl, besides being very beautiful, very intelligent. Thanks to her father’s sacrifices she was able to attend the University of Bologna and graduate with excellent grades. Her point of view was history, in particular the medieval one, perhaps because she felt in a strong way, inside herself, on the one hand the belonging to the city that had given birth to one of the most enlightened Emperors of history, and on the other hand to the family that first gave a Lord to Jesi. In fact, it was the Ghibelline Baligani family - the surname had become Balleani with time - that in 1271 had established the first Lordship in Jesi. With ups and downs, Tano Baligani, sometimes siding with the Guelphs, sometimes with the Ghibellines, depending on how the wind was blowing, had tried to maintain the dominion of the city, against other noble families, in particular against the Simonetti, who also took the reins of command of the city at certain times. In the two centuries that followed, the Balleani would become related to the Baldeschi family, who had given the city several Bishops and Cardinals, in order to seal a tacit agreement between the Guelphs and Ghibellines, especially to oppose the external enemy and counter the expansionist aims of the neighbouring municipalities, in particular Ancona, but also Senigallia and Urbino. Precisely because of this passion of her, the dean of the Hohenstaufen foundation had wanted to hire Lucia for the reorganization of the library of the palace that belonged to the noble family. The library boasted extremely rare pieces, such as an original copy of Tacitus’ Germanic Codex, but which had never been properly classified. Besides the classification of the books present, Lucia had other interests, of which she had tried to talk to the Dean, such as that of collecting all the historical sources about the city of Jesi present both in this and in the other libraries in the area, in order to give the prints an interesting publication. Or that of mapping the subsoil of the historical centre, rich of vestiges belonging to the Roman age, in order to have a reconstruction of the ancient city of Aesis11 as close as possible to the one that had been in reality.
«You have many beautiful ideas, you’re young and full of enthusiasm, and I understand you, but most of the access to the basement is forbidden, as you have to pass through the cellars of private buildings, whose owners most often deny consent.»
The old dean was peering at the girl with his green eyes from behind the lenses of the glasses. The grey beard could not conceal the sense of disapproval he felt towards the electronic cigarette, from which Lucia occasionally sucked a cloud of thick, whitish vapour, which in a matter of moments vanished into the air of the room.
«There is no need for physical exploration of the basement. A helicopter could fly over the city to get radar readings. This is the technique now and it gives excellent results», Lucia tried to insist, to see one of her greatest dreams come true.
«I wonder how much money would be needed for such a project. We have funds, but they’re quite limited. Italy has not yet come out of the economic crisis that has been afflicting it for several years now, and you come to me to propose pharaonic projects? Culture is beautiful, I am the first to say so, but we must keep our feet on the ground. See what you can achieve by exploring the basement of this building. They communicate directly with the crypt of the Cathedral, you could come up with something interesting. But do it outside the hours you’re paid for. Your task here is well defined: reorganize the library!» The Dean was about to leave the girl to her work, and to her disappointment, when he turned around and said, «And, one last thing! Electronic or not, there’s no smoking in here. I would ask you not to use that thing while you’re working.»
With a dramatic gesture, Lucia pulled the electronic cigarette out of its neck with the cord, turned off the switch and put it in its case, which she slipped into the bag. From the same bag she took a pack of cigarettes and a lighter and gained the entrance hall to go and smoke a real cigarette outside.
Tuesday, May 30, 2017, from the early hours of the morning, it was a clear, late spring day. The sky was blue and, although the sun was still low, Lucia was dazzled by the light as soon as she closed the front door behind her. She had found an excellent accommodation, renting a renovated apartment in Via Pergolesi, in the historic centre, a few hundred meters from her place of work. But the more interesting thing was the fact that she was right in the building that had housed, on the ground floor, in the 16th century, one of the first printing works in Jesi, that of Manuzi. The huge hall used as a printing house had been used for other purposes over time, even as a gym and as a meeting room for some political parties. But this did not take away the charm of the place. Leaving the main door and
