He was one of my most dangerous assignments. That's why I got payed 3 times my usual fee to investigate him -and in advance… After all, I had to think of Juanita and Lupe, my faithful helpers. He was known to secret, underground circles of Venice as "Mr Blue Sky" because whenever he appeared the clouds had a tendency to disappear. And a photographic investigator always knows that a man who can scare the clouds in Venice is extremely dangerous. So, I had to take double caution. Mr Blue Sky was getting around under the facade of a photographer, but he was really the drummer of a jazz band called "Dangerous People". A job very well picked, I might add, because no one ever notices the drummer… Of course, this was yet another facade. Mr Blue Sky was a man on a secret mission. Not violent by nature, but prepared to do whatever was necessary to protect his cover. His mission was to discover the secret biscotti recipe of the legendary Rossela. Her biscotti had miraculous antidepressant, uplifting and sometimes hallusinogenic powers -and Mr Blue Sky's employer had already spend a fortune to get his hands on it. As soon as he had the recipe, an underground factory would prepare the biscotti only for his personal delight. Of course, I knew all about even before Mr Blue got his assignment. You see, I knew Rossela. And I had the recipe. I have tasted the biscotti. So I knew I should never let him get near her. And that's how this photographic investigation begun… It hasn't ended yet… Mr Blue Sky is not easy to fool. The only thing that is certain is that I will take the recipe to my grave -Rossela is already in a safe place. Let's hope that that day will delay a little more.
Andreas F. knew how to frame people… He was really good at it… Andreas F. was a legend. Venice was his playground and a digital Nikon his weapon of choice. Sometimes someone would hire him to frame someone with an analogic camera, especially if they wanted the framing to be slow and painful… He was presice and methodical, he never left loose ends. If you wanted the job to be done, you'd hire Andreas F. Women adored him, men were intimidated by him. Of course, Andreas F. was not cheap... He wouldn't get out of bed for less than half a million dollars... Andreas F. worth every penny of it. The framing was clean, smooth, silent. All that was left when he was finished was the smoke of his cigarette… Marlboro, they said… But who really knew what brand of cigarettes Andreas F. smoked? It was the 31st of May… It was my birthday… I had no money, no job, no hope for the future. Venice was hot, humid and dangerously seductive… An old connection of mine I happened to meet for a spritz the day before, had told me a rich Venetian woman was willing to give 2 million euros to anyone who would frame Andreas F. I could ask for the reasons, but I didn't have to… I said I would do it. I needed the money, I had nothing to loose and I really wanted to know what brand of cigarettes Andreas F. smoked… Even if it was the last thing I saw… It wasn't difficult to track him… I wasn't new to the job… I won't bother you with the details… The framing worked. All I had to do was to hand over the card and collect the money. But life wouldn't just be so sweet for me… As I looked away from the vaporetto that would take me to Punta Sabbioni, I saw him framing me. I didn't feel a thing. He really was smooth. He really was merciful. I throw the card in the Canal Grande. I sat down. As I started to feel the effects of the framing, the san Marco square was already a blur. It was pointless to hold on to reality. As Venice was fading away, I saw the headline in tomorrow's papers: "Who framed Andreas F.?"… My eyes were closed. All I could see was cigarette smoke. Good bye Venice…
In between jobs, in between relationships, in between tasks, in between decisions, in between flights, in between training, in between meals, in between drinks, in between thoughts… All this time-space in between… Moments discarded, neglected, uncared-for, untended, forgotten. Yet always there, like a bonding material.
