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Authors: Coralie Hughes Jensen

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BOOK: Il Pane Della Vita
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The car was gone when the nun and monk emerged into the parking lot.

Sister Angela walked ahead. “This gives us time to visit Nico. Would you like an espresso, Brother Salvatore?”

Nico was cleaning off the tables. “Good afternoon, Sister. How can I help you?”

“We’ll both take a coffee. Do you want anything else Brother?”

“No. A coffee is fine. Tell me, Nico. Has your wife returned? You said she
was visiting relatives.”

“No, she’s still there. Her
father’s dying, and she’s afraid to leave him.”

“What was your wife’s maiden name?”

“Why, is she in trouble?”

“No, I
just want to see if I recognize the family.”


It’s Vicari, but they live south of Roma. You would have no reason to know them.”

“Yes, I guess you told me that before. Have you ever heard of a company called Busto
Sistemi?”

Nico hand shook, spilling coffee onto the saucer. He swooshed it up and replaced the saucer. “No. What do they make?” he said, sliding the cups toward them.

“I don’t know. I’ll have to look at the website. I just thought you might know.” They carried their cups to a table. “So your wife is from the south?”

“Yes.
I think she was born near Roma but moved to the south when she was young.”

“What did her father do?”

“I don’t know. He’s been sick for a while. She told me about him a little, but I didn’t listen. I think he’s the one who taught her how to cook. She came to me with experience in baking, you know.”

“You must miss her help.”

“Yes, but I have an assistant. You remember, Sister, the one who’s learning how to open a café, don’t you?”

“Is he good?”

“Yes, he catches on quickly. They’re my techniques, you know. Maybe I should buy another place and put him in charge.”

“In Avalle? Why not Montriano? I’d love to be able to buy your pastries after I go home. Did you
r wife ever mention living in Salvi?”

“Where? No. That’s to the south but near the coast, isn’t it? She’s never mentioned it. How long do you think she was there?”

“Just a few years. Perhaps she was too young to remember.”

“She only talked
about the old man. If they never lived there then she didn’t either.”

“I understand. It was probably someone else. I see Bassi out along the curb. Can we have another espresso to go? That way Bassi won’t feel sleepy when I tell him he still has to drive us to Avalle.”

When they were settled in the car, Brother Salvatore nudged the nun. “What was that about? Do you suspect his wife of something? Was it just because she disappeared?”

“I suppose the fact that her father is ill would be easy to verify. No, last time I was here, I saw a picture of a young Gina with her father. She had blond hair.”

“Which isn’t too rare,” said Brother Salvatore.

“No, but the blond child I heard about in Salvi had the name Regina. Regina and Gina are interchangeable as names, you know.”

“Was her last name Vicari?”

“No, I never got the last name. She was with her mother. Since she was a member of the parish, she might have a last name. I’ll have to find out if it’s the same little girl.”

“What a coincidence. But that’s all it is, Sister. Why would this Gina come all the way to Collinaterra to kill an
eremita
?”

“I believe Nico said he met her locally. Why would the young lady come this far north in the first place? It may well be just a coincidence, but it’s something we
look into.”

“And you
believe Busto Sistemi has something to do with it too?” asked Brother Salvatore.

“Why would this note be hidden in the cracks of B
rother Pietro’s wall unless it’s something of importance? Would you do that?”

“I might put a love letter in the wall.”

The nun eyed him.

“I mean someone might do that. I wouldn’t because I have vowed to remain celibate.”

“But Brother Pietro would?”

“No. I guess not. So you think he knew he was being followed or that someone was looking for him, and he slipped it in there as a clue?”

The nun removed the plastic baggie and gazed at the note again. “I think there was more writing on this paper, but maybe it has washed away in the rain. I wonder if Dr. Zaza can make it out with a chemical or something.”

“Probably not.”

“Then you and I are going to have to figure out what the hermit was trying to tell us.”

“If he was scared that someone was coming for him, why didn’t he say anything?”

“He might have mentioned it to one of his visitors. That’s why I need the list. The only one left that I haven’t spoken to is the woman.”

“I suppose you’re going to try to tie this
local woman, Gina, with the woman visiting Brother Pietro.”

“We don’t have to.”

“Okay, how do you link Gina and the visitor?”

“First, the visitor had to be local because she visited too often to have to have commuted from out of the area. Second, the blo
nd child in the picture is linked to Brother Pietro by virtue of the fact that she and her mother became members of the San Mattia Church while Father Teo was the vicar there and left when he did. Both Costa and Bauer said the visitor had to be a relative, perhaps a niece, to be allowed into the hermitage without signing in. There’s just too much circumstantial evidence linking Gina to Regina and connecting the same woman to Brother Pietro as his niece.”

“But Nico said she grew up father south.”

“Yes, but he wasn’t sure. Hopefully she’ll return soon so we can find out where she actually grew up.”

Sister Angela carefully removed the baggie from her pocket. “The housekeeper found this note pushed into a crack in his garden wall.”

“There’s just a number here,” Morena said.

“Ah, but that is a product number from Busto Sistemi, an electronics company in Roma. I just don’t know what the number is
for.”

“Did you look it up?” he asked
, typing the number into the box on the website. “That’s interesting. It’s for a router. What’s that got to do with the case?”

“Can’t anything be done to find out what the smudge says?”

“I doubt that.”

“Maybe it has to do with the company as a whole.”

“Then why didn’t he write that down?”

“Because he was af
raid his pursuer would find it,” said Sister Angela. “Listen, why would he put a note in the wall to begin with? So someone else could find it? I doubt that. Did he suspect that someone had been in his cottage? Did he know who it was? Did he need to hide the clue somewhere where the pursuer wouldn’t look?”

“I don’t think it’s important, but the fingerprints on the note might be. I’ll have someone in the lab take a look. Are we going to find your prints?”

“Yes, the housekeeper handed it to me.”

“And will we find her prints?”

“I don’t think so. She was wearing gardening gloves when she found it. You might find soil on it because she was gardening.”

“Do you have anything else? What about the weapon. What did you find out about that?”

“Brother Salvatore has to ask at the monastery. No one at the hermitage had seen it before. Pozza, the chef, said it was a filleting knife. I promise we’ll question the cooks at the monastery this evening. Did I tell you that the subject in our picture wasn’t wearing a robe from the hermitage? There was no piping on the sleeve. He could have been from the monastery down below or any other abbey in the area.”

BOOK: Il Pane Della Vita
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