The other specialized establishments were all concentrated in the streets adjacent to the bishop’s palace, the Palazzo del Vescovo, in Largo Donnaregina, not far from the city’s Duomo: instead Ventrone’s grandfather had guessed that most private chapels could actually be found in aristocratic palazzi in the city’s wealthiest quarter, and that’s where he decided to set up shop. The idea had proved to be a winning one, and three consecutive generations of Ventrones had prospered off the guilty consciences of the heads of titled families, using a new statue or an expensive ex-voto to absolve themselves of a wealth that was too often indifferent to the suffering of others. Ricciardi and the brigadier stood on the street admiring the objects arranged in the windows. In one, a crucified Christ about six feet tall enjoyed pride of place in the center, while grief-stricken angels, hanging from hooks on the wall, seemed to fly overhead. The Christ’s expression was one of immense suffering and sacrifice.
