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Authors: Coralie Hughes Jensen

BOOK: Chianti Classico
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“No. Our victim wasn’t one of the workers.”

“And La Barca’s workers are all clean. Did you interview them?”

“Yes.”

“Were their stories all the same?”

“No. They weren’t there together. Some worked for a while months ago. They worked and then quit before others replaced them. They explained their jobs differently. Some tended the grapes while others followed the winemaking procedures.”

“That’s not good enough,” said Pagano. “I want to talk to them, even the ones who worked previously. Each probably realized that a body wouldn’t be discovered right away and also knew to empty an amphora just enough so the wine inside didn’t overflow. What about the suppliers?”

“We’re still tracking them down.”

“Were they regular to La Barca’s winery? Had all been paid? Do any have records of some sort in the database? Have we checked who delivered dirt or chemicals to the vines? I can see someone standing among the vines watching the children next door.”

“That’s just it,” said Sister Daniela. “You’re finally talking about Pia. Someone probably killed the old nun and absconded with Pia. We need more connections. We should be working on the old nun’s identity. Then we can find out who’s associated with the victim.”

“We sent off his fingerprints and dental records looking for a match,” said Sacco. “No response yet. He may not be on our radar. You’re correct, Sister. We need to match the workers and suppliers to the victim, but they could’ve worked together anywhere. What we need is a break.”

“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go back to ground zero.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think I can help best if I see all the evidence you’ve collected from Pia’s abduction. I want to see all fingerprints, footprints, and tire tracks. I believe I heard there was nothing in the murder victim’s pockets or in the habit pockets. I want to see the evidence and satisfy myself that there’s nothing about the clothing that’s remarkable.”

“What about La Barca’s wife?”

“You know where she is?”

“Yes, she’s in Triesa. It’s not far from here. I have the address.”

“You want me to interview her? You’ll have to fill me in.”

“A little more than week ago, Carlota La Barca left her husband,” said Sacco. “He says she was visiting family. That’s where her family lives. We got him to admit that perhaps she left to break up the marriage.”

“A little more than week ago is when the abduction took place,” said Sister Daniela.”

“Yes. We suspect she was in on it, or at least helped plan it and that La Barca sent her away so she wouldn’t be blamed for anything.”

“You want me to see if she was involved.”

“I want you to use your powers of observation,” said Pagano. “She might roll her eyes or shed a tear. Hell, if she sneezes, I want to know about it. We don’t need to waste more time on her if she’s innocent.”

“I understand.”

“I also want to find out what she knows about our murder victim.”

“Wasn’t he killed after she left?”

“But he might have been around the scene before the murder. We need a name. To get that we’ll have to have details about his life so someone else can identify him.” He slipped a photograph from his pocket and jotted an address on a piece of paper. “Here’s Signora La Barca’s address and a photo we found in the farmhouse. I’d give you her cell number, but she might be a runner. I don’t think you should warn her that you’re coming.”

Chapter Seventeen

Sister Angela slowly ascended the steps in front of the convent and lifted her arm to ring the bell. While she waited for one of the nuns to answer, she turned back to admire the view. The smell of ripe grapes wafted up the hill. They were almost ready. The musty smell lingered in her nostrils.

“Hello, Sister Angela,” said Sister Tiberia. The tall nun bent down to grab Sister Angela’s bag. “Let me help you with this. I can’t believe you carried it all the way from the terminal. Come in. Come in. It’s so hot. Please come through to the kitchen. I have some cold juice waiting for you. After you rest and hydrate, one of us can show you to your room. The fan’s on, cooling it down so you’ll be comfortable.”

The nuns gathered in the front room before dinner to listen to Sister Angela’s plan.

Tiny Sister Baptista continued to knit while Sister Concetta pulled more chairs to the center of the room. “I love our refurbished furniture,” she said. “It’s so comfortable.”

“Please update us,” said the prioress. “We’ve heard nothing since you left.”

“Let me see,” said Sister Angela, wriggling deeper into the soft cushion of her chair. “The police have arrested the winemaker who lives next door to the orphanage.”

“They know who kidnapped her?” asked Sister Baptista, stopping her knitting needles mid stitch.

“No. Signor La Barca did some clearing of his vineyard right where there might have been proof the kidnapper was there.”

“What proof?”

“Signor La Barca himself found a piece of nun’s habit. If you remember, the children identified the kidnapper as a tall nun. But then he raked the area around it and watered the particular vine that hid the swatch of nun’s habit so no one would be able to find more. He lied when the police questioned him about it.”

“Why did he do that?” asked Sister Oriana, who had entered the room after taking out the bread baking in the oven.

Sister Angela didn’t answer right away. The aroma that filled the front room was heavenly.

“I’m serving the bread at dinner,” Sister Oriana said. “So the police arrested him because he lied?”

“Not exactly. They arrested Signor La Barca because he was the only suspect in the death of the old nun.”

“The old nun died?” said Mother Patrizia.

“A man’s body was recovered from one of Signora La Barca’s amphora.”

“What’s that?” asked Sister Concetta.

“The winemaker aged his wine in large clay pots.”

“I thought you said the old nun died,” said Sister Tiberia.

“The old nun who kidnapped Pia turned out to be a tall man in disguise.”

“Maybe he tried to hide in the clay pot, and someone poured wine over his head,” said Sister Concetta.

“They discovered the habit in the same area where Signor Barca found the swatch. The medical examiner theorized that the man had been killed before he was hidden in the amphora. Signora La Barca was the last person to check the wine in that vessel. It was only then that Signor La Barca admitted his wife left him. The police have now found her, and my assistant, Sister Daniela, is going to Triesa to interview her.”

“What about Pia?” asked Sister Tiberia. “Her kidnapper’s dead, and the police have arrested his murderer. Did the police look in all the pots? Did Pia get away? Perhaps she’s with the wife.”

“Sister Daniela will check on that.”

“Then why are you here?” asked the prioress. “You should be in Triesa too. They’re so close to finding her.”

“I don’t believe the case will be that easy to solve, Reverend Mother. I have some investigating of my own to do here around Castel Valori. In the morning, I think I’ll visit the Detective Sergeant in town about how his investigation’s going. Maybe he can help me go over some of the unsolved cases that went on near here. If he won’t help me, then I’ll just have to do it myself.”

“But if Sister Daniela finds something in Triesa, she’ll call you won’t she?” asked Sister Concetta.

“Of course. She’ll call me tomorrow evening no matter what she’s found. I have my little red mobile here in my pocket. She can get hold of me anytime.”

Sister Oriana served them soup and bread for dinner. Sister Angela was hungry. She couldn’t wait to slather butter on her piece of homemade bread and, when served, sat back to enjoy every bite. The nuns handed Sister Angela a second piece to dip in her soup. She was quite satisfied when she felt the buzz of the phone in her pocket. They all looked up.

“Excuse me,” she said, walking back to the front room before answering it.

“Hi,” said Sister Daniela. “I’m here in Triesa.”

“You haven’t approached her yet, have you?”

“No. I’m in my hotel room. I just wanted to let you know that I arrived safely.”

Sister Angela smiled. “Was there anything new when you talked to Ricco and Elmo at the station before you left?”

“Only that the old nun wasn’t one of La Barca’s workers. Why would he kill someone he never met?”

“That doesn’t mean he didn’t know him. The old nun could have worked for Martino at another time or knew him in another context. Perhaps it has to do with his wife.”

“Maybe La Barca killed the old nun because he suspected his wife was having an affair with her—I mean him,” said Sister Daniela. “Elmo also said they interviewed all the current workers and all their stories were similar. That indicates to me that either they’re all telling the truth or they rehearsed their stories and are all guilty.”

“But no one seemed to know the old nun or even noticed the children next door.”

“No. Tomorrow they’re interviewing suppliers. Someone must have noticed the victim. How did the old nun get around? Did he have a car? If so, where is it? In fact, I asked the chief detective and Elmo a lot of questions, but they answered almost none of them. I’m sure I exhausted them. That must be why they decided to ship me off to Triesa.”

“They sent you to Triesa to do a very important job,” said Sister Angela. “Not only must you approach Carlota without scaring her off, but at the same time, you have to get into her house and make sure she doesn’t have Pia there.”

“The police didn’t mention that. Of course we have to find that out.”

“I suggest you get Carlota to trust you. Buy her an espresso or something to relax her. You can ask her a few questions about what went on.”

“That’s sort of what the chief detective and Elmo suggested. I’m not to tell her about the murder and our suspicions about her right away. I thought I might talk to her about her relationship with her husband and why she came to Triesa. I have to see if someone has told her about what has happened with her husband and what’s going on in Filari before I go into any of the detail.”

“And if you can’t get her to take you home with her, you must go to the police in Triesa and get them to check the house.”

“I understand. This is exciting. I’m glad you let me get involved in the investigation.”

The nun hung up the phone and hesitated.
Me too, Sister.
I’m afraid Mother Margherita’s going to take away my veil herself if she ever finds out that I’ve put you in danger. I’m going to have to repeat three mysteries on my beads tonight.

Sister Daniela sat down at a table in a café along Via del Corso in Triesa.
Via del Corso’s the main street in Triesa
, thought the nun, smiling.
Actually, it’s the only street in Triesa
.

Suddenly, she heard a name and turned to look at the counter.


Due
cornetti
per favore,”
said the customer.

“Si, Signora La Barca.
Altro?”

“Signora La Barca?” the nun asked nearly turning over the cup of espresso she was sipping. “Carlota La Barca?”

The woman took her bag from the cashier, spun around, and stared in the nun’s direction.

“You probably don’t recognize me. I’m the teacher at the orphanage next to your vineyard.”

“Ah, one of the nuns,” she said, looking as if she wanted to run.

“Please,” said Sister Daniela, gesturing her to the other chair at her table. “Let me get you a glass of water.”

The woman hesitated.

“How are your parents? Your husband indicated that there might be an illness.”

Slowly Signora La Barca approached the table. “My parents are well. What else did he tell you?”

“Perhaps you haven’t heard the news from Filari. Much has happened.”

“Why are you here?” Carlota asked.

“We’re looking for a child who disappeared from the orphanage.”

“I don’t understand why a runaway would come here. Triesa’s a small town.”

“Please sit down. It’s a long story.”

Carlota finally slid into the chair, and Sister Daniela gestured for the waiter to bring water.

“I suppose you weren’t planning to come back,” said the nun. “That’s fine. I understand the difficulties of marriage. Was your husband abusive?”

Carlota looked stunned. “Never. He’s a gentle man. Just not a good businessman. What news do you have for me? Is he all right? Has he lost the vineyard yet?”

“Actually I believe it has little to do with business. Do you know this man?” she asked, removing a photo from her pocket and placing it before her guest.

Carlota studied the photo. “No. What’s wrong with him? He looks sick.”

“He’s dead.”

Her face paled. “My husband’s all right, isn’t he?”

“He’s in jail for the murder of this man, Signora La Barca.”

Carlota glanced around to see if anyone heard what the nun was telling her. “Maybe you can tell me more on the way home. News spreads fast in small villages.”

The nun took a last sip of her water and went to pay the baker.

Carlota was already outside when she finished. “How’s the orphanage involved in this? How do you know my husband’s a suspect in this man’s death? Why are you really here?”

“I told you why I was in Triesa. The dead man was disguised as a nun. A child was snatched from the orphanage by an old nun. We have witnesses to the kidnapping.”

“If you have witnesses, how was Martino involved?”

“The body of the man was discovered at your vineyard.”

“Who is he?” she asked, failing to look at the nun directly. “Was he in our house? Did Martino tell you that he knew him?”

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