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Authors: Coralie Hughes Jensen

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BOOK: Il Pane Della Vita
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Ten
What’s in a Name?

Sister Angela looked around the crowded breakfast room. She did not remember it being so busy on the one
other day she was able to join the brothers for breakfast. Searching through the sea of faces, she found the abbot sitting at the end of one table and quickly placed her tray beside his.

“Good morning, Sister,” he said.
“I have not seen you around here lately. Did you get my note?”

“That’
s exactly why I wanted to speak with you. You sent me the name
Father Teo
. I suppose it happens that priests change their names when they move from one position to another, but it isn’t that common. I don’t suppose you were able to get a bit more information—especially in light of the recent scandals.”

“That’
s all the bishop had, Sister. I’m afraid I don’t know the parish or region or even if he used that name. Remember that he has been here for nearly twenty years, which is before the rules were changed. I suggest you approach the bishop yourself. It isn’t fair that you were hired to get more information while still handcuffed by the victim’s past.”

“I’ll get to work on it right after breakfast, Father.

“Are you going up the hill this morning?”

“Yes, as soon as I have finished my breakfast. They have asked Luciano Scali, the night administrator, to wait for me.”

“Are you taking
Brother Salvatore?”

“No. He was so tired. If he stays her
e can help out at breakfast. I didn’t have the heart to keep him. He’s gifted, you know. I’ll miss his help.”

“That’s wise. I’
ve had complaints from the kitchen that he’s making mistakes and nodding when he should be serving.”

“S
oon, I hope, I’ll be dashing off to Brother Pietro’s parish or where he worked. I don’t plan to take Brother Salvatore with me, Father. Perhaps he can get his sleep cycle back on track.”

“I understand, but you still have a need for him, don’t you?” The abbot smiled. “I hope it’s one of those once-in-a-lifetime miracles so I can have Brother Salvatore before he’s actually hooked on detective work.

“Oh, one more thing. I plan to return early this afternoon. I would like to speak with the crew who witnessed the event from here.”

“The best time would be
right after dinner, if you can wait that long. I‘ll tell Brother Alonzo and Brother Enrico that you will need to speak with them. I suppose you won’t need Brother Salvatore at those interviews.”


If he’s up to it he can help clean up in their absence.”

After breakfast, Sister Angela looked for Bassi. She noticed his car already parked in front of the monastery and went out to greet him.

“Please, Ignazio. I’m ready. Just let me get my tote.”

By the time she was in the car, she was already dialing. “Hello, Father Sergio?”

“Yes Sister, I was just reading your first email. Is there a problem?”

“Yes, I need some help. I have no information on Brother Pietro. The abbot requested a background from the bishop, but he only received the name
Father Teo
.
We have nothing else. I thought that we would have better personnel records than that. How can I find out more about the brother’s background if I don’t know who he was before he came to the hermitage?”

“I
understand. Let me see what I can do. Perhaps he did not come out of a congregation around here. That would mean you need the name of his diocese. Have you interviewed anyone that actually saw the explosion? It is hard to tell the bishop that you are making progress if you are not.”

“When I wrote you, it was difficult because I had only interviewed the lay people. Yes. I have t
wo brothers who definitely believe Brother Pietro was at home the time of the explosion. Since his body still isn’t there, that would point to an actual ascension. It isn’t definitive, of course, but…”

“That does sound promising, Sister. Hopefully there will be more so we can put this case to bed.”

“Father, how long might it take you to get me that information?”

“I hope to have it soon. I shall email you
when I get it.” He hung up the phone as if someone had just entered his office.

When Sister Angela looked up, she could see that
Bassi was turning the car into a parking space in the lot in front the hermitage.

“Thank you for staying late, Mr. Scali. You must be exhausted after being up all night.”

Scali was a big man. He had trouble sitting in the small chair in front of the low table. “I understand you’re investigating the explosion.”

“You were on duty that evening weren’t you? Please tell me what you saw.”

“I saw a flash through the windows. I ran outside to see the fire and then called the police.”

“Did you know where the flash came from? What did you think it was?”

“It was so bright I thought it was the gas tank across the parking lot.”

“But the
lot is in the opposite direction from the actual explosion.”

“Yes. When I ran into the courty
ard, I discovered that it couldn’t have been the tank. Flames were coming from the roof of the cottage near the woods.”

“What did you think happened to cause the explosion?”

“I had no idea. I knew I had to call the fire department before another cottage caught fire so I ran back inside and called the trucks in Collinaterra. They don’t have the best equipment, but at least we’d have a truck here quickly. When they got here, they discovered the fire had extinguished itself, and they didn’t need to worry about how they would attack it.”

“The police from Avalle arrived when?”

“About twenty to thirty minutes later. I called them myself because I wasn’t sure the Collinaterra fire department would. I let them in.”

“Did you also call the bishop?”

“Yes. Soon after the police arrived, the news people descended on our humble community. I could hold off the reporters on the ground, but there were helicopters overhead. I didn’t want the bishop’s people to hear about it on the morning news.”

“You were busy. You did manage to tell Mr. Neri
the next day about what happened overnight, didn’t you?”

“Yes. I told him a little. There was not much to tell. The police didn’t
explain the details.”

“Did you mention the tank?”

“No. I had complained about the tank before. Perhaps Neri thought I was talking about it then, but I specifically told him it was one of the cottages.”

“Had any of the hermits ever complained about the gas hook-ups?”

Scali sat back and considered the question. “Most of the brothers didn’t know what it was like before gas was used. I guess they took it for granted.”

“Then why didn’t you?
You haven’t worked here that long.”

“My father
was employed by a power company in the South. He used to tell me stories about how dangerous it was to work in the field. I toiled at that company for a few years too. I didn’t think it was that dangerous, but the stories he told were hair-raising. Now that I think about it, he may have believed I would appreciate him more if I thought he did heroic work.”

“So you started out working for a power company. How did you get here?”

Scali smiled. “I quit the power company and needed to find another job. I moved around a bit and ended up working for a businessman who needed an assistant. I was like a private secretary. That man made me feel important—like I was helping someone.”

“And the Church? Were you active in that too?”

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