Cosa Nostra

by Adam Foster Part One Spring sunshine on the grass. The white stone of Cripps gleamed. One pair of curtains remained drawn. And this was no CompSci, but Mafia HQ. In the darkness, the mafia boss sat at his desk; thinking, waiting. He took his Vitamin D tablet. The guard cat meowed. Guard cats are uncommon. This is, in general, due to the difficulty of training cats to guard. Where dogs would, after some short time, be able to consistently respond to stimuli, cats tend to: stare blankly, walk away, or go to sleep. However, for those in the business of evil, having a cat to hand in critical situations adds certain panache: launching a villains reputation from mere wrong-doer to Machiavellian mastermind. So it was that the mafia resorted to experimental pharmacology to develop guard cats. The guard cat ran towards its master. There was a knock on the door. It was none other than Jeffrey. He squinted as he entered the darkness. He began to speak. I seek your help. This Tuesday I bought some strawberry yoghurt. From Sainsburys. I placed it in the fridge like a good student. But when I went to the kitchen this morning, it was gone. I wept. Now I will never taste strawberry yoghurt again. I went to Will Oram. He sent some emails, but nothing was done. I said to myself, for justice I must go to the mafia. Why did you go to Will Oram, why not come to us first? You want pennies; I begged and borrowed engineers pennies. But I plead with you, do what I ask. And what is that? Jeffrey lent across and whispered to the mafia boss. That we cannot do. Ill give you anything you ask. Weve known each other since freshers week, but this is the first time you came to us for counsel, for help. I cant remember the last time you invited us to your kitchen for a cup of tea. I understand, youd made it to Cambridge: you didnt need friends like us. Now you ask for this. I ask you for justice. How much shall I pay you? JeffreyJeffreyWhatever have we done to make you treat us with such disrespect. If you had come to us in friendship, then the scum who took your strawberry yoghurt would be suffering this very day. Jeffrey knelt and kissed the outstretched hand of the mafia boss. Good accept this justice as our gift.

Part Two: Da capo al fine The next person to visit the mafia was very distressed. She was trying in vain to illustrate the concept of an infinite dimensional vector space with her hands. She sat on the table and looked sad. Then she began to cry. I dont know what to do, I dont know what to do, she sobbed, if only they would let me on the University Challenge team, Id be able to prove myself a master of obscure knowledge, but they they wont give it to me. I trounced the others in the quiz, but, they wont give it to me. Who wont? asked one of the mafia. The Fellow whos in charge of selection. She turned away from the mafia for a moment, opened her bag and deeply inhaled the fumes of the onion slices she had concealed there. She turned back to the mafia, eyes glistening. Where does he live? they asked. In a land far, far away. I believe they call it Dokett. Ive never been there myself. Mafia guys I dont know what to do. You can act like a man! cried one of the assembled mafia, springing to his feet. Im not sure thats entirely appropriate or desirable, said another of the mafia. Yeah, youre right, said the first sinking back into his chair and trying to entice the guard cat back. Leave this with us. Very soon this Fellow will give you what you want. Alright then, said the visitor, departing. The mafia boss turned to one of the assembled and said, you know what to do. The indicated mafia left immediately and hurried to the top of BB. The catapult was in good readiness. He strapped himself into the wicker basket, sewed his jacket to the seat for good measure, took a sip of whiskey and motioned to the nameless attendant. Ancient wooden beams creaked like English oaks in a particularly violent storm. Multi-coloured woollen cords suddenly flexed as they were released from enormous tension, and the wicker basket was hurled up into the sunlit air. As its occupant gazed around him, he saw the artful spires of the UL, the courts of neighbouring colleges and the Cam snaking away into the distance. But only for a moment. Narrowly missing the corner of Erasmus, he hurtled down towards Friars Court. A spiders web gave safe landing. He looked around in wonder at the new land he had entered. He hurried to Dokett, to the office of Dr Woltz. Hi there Kevin, said Dr Woltz as he entered, you do realise youre five minutes late? The mafia smiled, realising that Dr Woltz did not realise he came from a powerful and sinister organisation.

I was rather disappointed with your essay this week, to be honest. What you write in paragraph three about the development of English through vowel shifts during pre-Norman times appeared to have been lifted directly from This idiot thinks hes supervising me, doesnt he? thought the mafia, allowing Dr Woltzs voice to fade into the background, as he contemplated the difficult work he would soon have to do. Having got through to Dr Woltz that he had come to speak about a serious issue, and that he had come from nowhere other than FF staircase for this meeting, Dr Woltz became friendlier, showing the mafia the secret passageway concealed in his bookcase, inviting Kevin to his indoor garden for a cup of tea. The songbirds which waited on the pair were a nice touch. The mafia sat and admired the eight foot pine tree and the fresco on the ceiling above it. Im sorry Kevin, Dr Woltz was saying, but University Challenge team selection cannot now be reversed. The mafia raised an eyebrow. Let me show you this, though, said Dr Woltz. One of my other students made this for me. You do appreciate beauty, don't you? He took a horse from his desk and turned it round so the mafia could see the intricate folding of many pieces of textured, pastel coloured paper. The next morning, Dr Woltz woke up in the storage cupboard where all supervisors are when they are not supervising. As he reached out to stop his alarm, he noticed blood. A paper cut. He looked around to find what could have caused it. Then, with rising panic, he saw, disfigured beyond recognition, several coloured pieces of paper which had once been part of a noble head. Now cruelly severed. FINE! He screamed. Fine, she can be on the team. Part Three In which we discover that the mafia clans fight amongst themselves One day the mafia were drinking tea and talking about who to kill next. The sun was shining behind the curtains, and gentle laughter washed around the room as the mafia discussed whether it was better to drown someone in treacle (because they probably wouldnt be able to climb out) or ethanol (which would evaporate away quickly). Someone had brought along cake and the more the mafia talked the smaller the cake got. This was a Good Time. Then the mafia heard that someone was coming to visit. Oh dear, they said, I hope it isnt someone unpleasant. Hes a very important person said one of the assembled, we should be nice to him, so that he doesnt kill us. The mafia boss frowned. We still kill people who are nice to us, he pointed out.

Then one of those people who always seem to know exactly what is going on and stops to say ohhello-havent-seen-you-in-ages-must-meet-up-soon on practically every occasion that are going anywhere explained that the visitor was from a rival mafia clan, the Llamas. The clan, in fact, that our own mafia, the Alpacas, had narrowly beaten in the contest for Queens Best Mafia Clan 2013. Rumour had it that the Llamas were not entirely happy about this. Hello, said the visitor. Hello, said the boss. May I sit down? Help yourself said the boss, indicating a generous patch of floor. So the visitor sat down. Don Uovo, I have a proposition But everyone stopped listening at this point because the visitor took a live mouse from his jacket pocket and placed it on the table. The mouse nibbled the last few remains of cake. It then became bored, and scurried across the floor and started to chew through the Ethernet cable. Cant you control your mouse? asked Fino. I have a sentimental weakness for my friends, and I spoil them as you can see; they talk when they should listen, said the boss scowling. Please allow your mouse to continue. The visitor tapped the floor with a yellow pencil and the mouse hurriedly returned to its master. What do you say then? Don Uovo was not sure how to reply, but said to himself, This mouse has destroyed my internet connection. Bother. Aloud, he said I am afraid that I will have to decline your offer. I wish to congratulate you on your new business, and I know you'll do very well. The visitor looked taken aback and said, youll regret this. Once the visitor had left, the boss turned and said I think your brain is going soft, were British dont you remember, and dont comment on the strange things people do. The mafia looked suitably subdued and did not drink any more tea. The next morning Don Uovo thought he might go to Sainsburys. He was in a bit of a hurry because there was a Mafia Meeting at eleven oclock, so he decided to take the route via Green Street, which is rather enclosed (but shorter). As he walked he hummed unconcernedly to himself and thought about the vodka he was going to buy. A famous thought experiment describes a cat in a box which is simultaneously alive and dead. The practical application of this is often overlooked. Feline entanglement theory states that a large number of cats all tangled together (wool is often a good choice because the cats will do it themselves) will be either be all alive or all dead. Since each cat has an equal chance of death, the

chance that the group dies is increased significantly as the number of cats tends to infinity. In practice mice are used because they are smaller and so you can use a smaller box. Don Uovo had reached bar nine of his hum when he stepped on a paving stone that looked like any other. But it was not. A terrific cracking noise rent the air and he felt himself descending into and underground cavern. He fell through the air for several minutes. He continued his hum. At bar fifty, a web of orange wool stopped his fall. More wool began wrapping itself around him, and he could see many, many mice, all tangled up in the same wool. He gulped. The Fourth Age: Section One In a quiet corner of the room sat Pesce. This is, of course, the Pesce of whom tales were afterwards told amongst younger students, fellows and tourists alike. But that day, as Pesce thought on the terrible things that had been done to Don Uovo, no-one took any notice of her whatsoever. She sat, dimly aware of anxious voices talking softly and hurriedly. We need to strike back hard, said Fino. How can we? From such a position of weakness as this? So you would rather crumble into nothing than make an end worthy of memory? This is still business, Fino; now the Llamas are invulnerable whilst they have the Porters on their side. We cant strike against them now. There was silence as all considered the truth of what had been said. Ever afterward, Pesce wondered what would have happened had she not said what she then did. I, Pesce friend of Uovo, will wreak vengeance on our enemies. Doubtful eyes turned towards her. They want to meet me, right? Set up a meeting on neutral territory the Mathematical Bridge. There Ill kill them. Fino laughed, you, little Pesce friend of Uovo, no, you would not be able. Listen. If there is a weapon concealed on the bridge so as to leave the Llamas unsuspecting of my intentions, I can strike with the element of surprise. How will you escape after the deed is done? asked Fino, no longer mocking. There is one way I know of, she said. The Mathematical Bridge spans the vast body of water separating light from dark. The Cam, as it is known in the local dialect, has consumed many a student foolish enough to walk alone across the bridge and be ambushed by the gremlins that cling to its underside. The Llama boss stood aside to let someone across the bridge and greeted Pesce. Im glad you came Pesce friend of Uovo. I hope we can straighten everything out.

Well straighten Pesce paused to let some tourists across the bridge, well straighten everything out tonight. Then the noble Don Uovo may be in peace." Then Pesce reached adeptly round the one of the beams of the bridge and withdrew a knitting needle. She plunged it deep into the heart of the man opposite her. He gasped. His face took on an almost serene expression as he sank to his knees. Then collegefolk began to notice something, and all at once a cry of Murder went up. Pesce saw two porters running towards her and for a moment she knew not what to do; she saw blood on her hands. Then she felt a jolt as if regaining consciousness. She vaulted over the side of the bridge and let herself fall downwards towards the cold expanse of water below. The porters stopped and watched as she fell, surely to be dashed upon the sharp rocks just beneath the surface of the Cam. But then, as they turned away presuming Pesce dead, a punt glided from under the bridge, Pesce landed safely in it and, in an instant, was gone. Part Four: Section Two Nowhere was safe for Pesce now, except the very corners of the globe. Authorities in every college from Homerton to Girton were on the lookout for a needle wielding warrior. After many days travel which Pesce barely recollected, she let the pole fall and collapsed into the boat; which ran aground some hundred yards further. She awoke to find herself surrounded by curious children trying to photograph her on their iPads. What place is this? she asked of them. Tis Grantchester, maam came the reply. How far from Cambridge is it? Tis many leagues. Then I am safe for the moment, thought Pesce. After many weeks of rest, the events on the Mathematical Bridge began to return to her. She was nursed by an old doctor who had come from a neighbouring village. As Pesces health steadily improved she was permitted to go outside, first for a few hours each day, and later, at liberty. She spent many days after that sitting by the river and wondering whether she would ever be able to punt all the way back to her old life in Cambridge, or whether she was condemned to a life of exile. By night, she gazed upon the stars, knowing something of how to read them, and always searching for a sign of what might be happening in Queens. By day, she dropped pebbles into the water and watched the ripples spread out and die. It was on one of these occasions that she saw someone on the other side of the river. He quite clearly had seen her some time earlier, and now turned away embarrassed, trying to walk on as if nothing had happened. The next day, he came walking on her side of the bank. His shoes were of suede, his cardigan of merino, and his shirt bore alarming green and purple stripes. He had clear blue eyes and strawberry blond hair imagine Boris Johnson at seventeen. His name was Quentin, and in Grantchester he was known as Quentin the Valiant. Not knowing what to say, he began, your beauty and radiance overwhelm me , but at that moment Pesce saw a bottle floating gently in the river. This would have been of little interest had

the bottle not been drifting decidedly upstream. She bid the young man to hold what thoughts he had. She then leapt into the river. The water, apparently so balmy and peaceful when viewed from the bank, was turbulent and bitingly cold. She reached out her hand to the bottle and seized it. Then, taking care not to allow the ferocious currents to tear her prize from her, she regained the bank. In the bottle was a note from the Alpacas. It read simply MAY NOW RETURN. In joy Pesce threw her arms around her patient companion. The astute young man realise some of what was happening, and cried, I shall punt you for all the weeks necessary to return you to your homeland. Be the river rough, or the wind terrible, I will not stop. People will sing songs of our journey together. Even in the darkest moments we will know that we must go on, in order to right the wrong that was done you. He leapt into the punt. Suddenly his smile faded: water was rising rapidly in the boat. The terrible plot of the Llamas was at once revealed. He looked dejectedly at Pesce as he sank into the Cams chilling embrace, there to remain for eternity. Ill have to walk, she said. Part Five Pesce woke. The aches that had plagued her after her colossal journey back to Queens had all but subsided. In the corridor, she met Fino. They were supposed to be all day in the JCR that was what the leaflets posted under their doors in the early hours told them. That was something Pesce had had to get used to upon her return. Pesce could see that Fino had slept badly. They walked together in silence. Don Uovo was in the JCR. Hed not died, but somehow, by a lucky chance, or a deal with the Devil some said, defeated the laws of probability; but the once great figure had been reduced to all but a whisper of what he once was. The room itself was much changed. The television was now perpetually on, showing documentary after documentary featuring the llama. The north wall bore a large poster of a llama that stared long and hard at its enemies day and night, sitting atop the words No animal can hide from a llama. You look tired, said Uovo to Fino. Fino said nothing, then, not bothering to hide his feelings, Ive no idea how you can sleep either of you he turned to Pesce. Quiet! said Uovo sharply, and then continuing more softly, people may hear. Over the next hour, more people came to the JCR to work or to find safety amongst a crowd. I hear theyre gonna get rid of some of the trees by the river, someone said. Fino stood up radiply. Not the beech sapling? Not the ones that I helped to plant? I think thats what theyre starting on.

Fino rushed to the door. Fino, you cant said Pesce, but he was gone. He crashed down the stairs and shoved a group of medics out of his way as he stormed up the path alongside the river. He could see hi-viz and hear a chainsaw. His blood boiled as he broke into a run. Then, a second later, he tripped and felt a stabbing pain in his knee. He crawled along, but a shadow fell across his path. He looked up. You seem not to realise: were always watching you, Fino, said the Llama boss.

Uovo, all this time, had remained entirely still. Pesce tore herself from the window moments before Fino let out a cry of agony. At length Uovo spoke. I want all enquiries made. I want no acts of vengeance. Then he said, find Jeffrey. The next day, Uovo came to see Pesce. Jeffrey controls some of their communication systems, he explained, we can talk for a while now. Fino is gone and I will be soon as well. There was a moment of silence. The silence that can only occur when two people are completely alone. They will move against you. Theyll set up a meeting with someone that you absolutely trust, guaranteeing your safety. And youll never return from that meeting. The next day, Uovo was not at breakfast; he was not at lunch or dinner either. Part 6 Where Silver Street crosses the river theres an old pub called The Anchor. After dark the same faces crawl out of the woodwork and find their way across the city to that spot. On this night two of those familiar faces were stood right where they always stood drinking what they always drank. They were talking away very serious about something. I aint never seen nothing like it, said one. Go on and tell said the other. Well it was about two oclock or so and I was walking through town. I saw one of them cyclists in all the kit and not bothering to watch out for pedestrians come fast as you like across the cobbles. She was one of those who think the world should watch out for them and not the other way round. Had a big picture of a llama covering her back, so I thought probably in some club or other. You know they got a load of scaffolding up around Kings Parade at the moment, well as she was passing under that something must of come loose and fell right the way down, but as if to confirm this girls arrogance it missed her by a few inches. She smiled and just carried on not even probably thinking

what couldve just happened. Watching cyclists was getting tiresome so I pretty much decided to stop, but I saw her lock up her bike just a little bit beyond the scaffold. Some scruffy kid ran up and gave her something. Something very small. After that I dunno really what happened. Everyone started screaming and shouting to call an ambulance. I hurried up quick as I could to get a good look in and I saw that girl lying on the ground. Dead as anything. But I saw something no-one else did. As they picked up the body to try and move it, something rolled out of her clenched fist, a coin it looked like to me. I was dead sure that was the thing that little boy had given her. But that aint the last of it, by no means. My afternoon was just getting started, so it turned out. See after that, I decided to walk up by the river and clear my head. I was sitting on a bench and feeding the ducks, when along the river comes a boat, all the rowers straining every fibre and their cox screaming at them. I noticed too that all of them had those llama badges, same as Id seen on the girl before. Right then round the bend came another boat, but this one came silent as you like, nobody called anything, they just slid round the bend. I could see right away that there was gonna be trouble unless both stopped. I cried out to stop, but the new boat, rather than stopping just carried on as if nothing was up. That was then I saw a shiny piece of metal at the front of the new boat and realised they didnt want to avoid colliding at all. The llamas could see it all clear as day but there was nothing they could do. The ram tore chunks off the side of their boat before the strangers rowed on. The llamas knew theyd never make it the bank. They called out to me. They asked if I had a rope, if I could call help. I called police; but they never made it in time. Then those rowers seemed to resign themselves to what was coming to them. It didnt take long, in a couple of minutes theyd gone to the bottom. And now I come to the worst part of all. After what Id seen I needed a drink. Heck, I needed at least two. I knew where the nearest pub was, through a little wood. Walking through it, I happened to glance up and I saw something hanging off right up top one of the biggest trees. I shoulda carried right on to the pub, but I decided to climb up and investigate. I got to the branch, and started to pull up the elastic rope that whatever Id seen had been attached to. I reached down to get it and felt something warm and moist. I pulled it up and damn nearly fell outta the tree. Two eyes stared back at me. Blood dripped down my arm, and a sodden bandana clung to black matted hair. The bandana had, you guessed, a llama picture on it. It was all too clear how itd happened. Theyd tied the poor guys feet to something else and then released the tension, and tore the head clean off. Somehow I got down from that tree and got here. The speakers companion said nothing for a while, but went to get his friend a strong drink. Its very interesting hearing you say all this I can tell you. Let me tell you what Ive been doing today. I got myself into one of the colleges; you know the one right across the road from here. They were having some big old ceremony. One of them was being given a big honour, being given college children or something like that. And she had to go through this ceremony to tell them all that she was worthy and all. Turns out I knew the girl they were giving the thing to. I remember her being the quiet one that everyone called Pescellina. But I could tell right away things werent like that anymore. It was always Pesce, and always with the greatest respect. She had to go through this old ceremony. They asked her all sorts, whether she would be kind and forgiving; whether she would protect her children and renounce violence against humankind. And

she was saying yes of course. So it was going on, and getting fairly boring. It wasnt until right after the ceremony that it got interesting. Some girl comes pushing her way through the crowd, she pushed her way right passed me and I saw her face for a second. There were fresh tears running down her cheek. She got right the way to the front, and I saw her march straight towards Pesce as if to hit her. But two big guys whod been somewhere in the shadows were all of a sudden holding this crying girl back. I was interested of course, and tried to get to the front to see what was happening, and to my total surprise, most of the crowd started to turn to go. This girl was screaming at Pesce the worst stuff Ive ever heard: inside a University at least. Both men chuckled. From what I gathered somebody had just died. Hed been rowing on the river and his boat had sunk. And for some reason, this girl was dead certain that Pesce was to blame. I couldnt see at all how she could be to blame after all shed been doing her ceremony the past hour; and from what I heard the whole thing sounded like an accident. Well eventually, the girl was quietened down and those big lads led her away. I thought Pesce might recognise and old face like mine, but I dont think she glanced my way once. I pretended to be reading the programme, and kept and ear out for what she was saying. One other girl that I recognised, one of Pesces old friends I think, was talking to her. And I was taken aback to realise that this old friend was asking whether crying girl had had the truth after all. Pesce seemed to find the questions that her friend was asking very wearisome. But this friend kept on, so Pesce smiled her smile and soothed her friends worries. She said right out that no it wasnt true. So this friend went away all satisfied. After that a couple of people came to ask Pesce why she hadnt gone to some meeting with her old friend Gamberetto. But to that she just laughed. And then a few old faces and a few new ones came up to Pesce and she starts handing round biscuits and theyre talking so quiet I cant even hear. Well after what youve just told me; Christ, I dont even know what to think. Don Pesce?