“Have any of the eremiti complained when we let in a visitor they didn’t know?”
“Perhaps Brother Pietro would complain if he were still alive. I would think the death of one of the hermits would be a breach of contract.”
“I believe you should take that up with Steffen, Sister. He’s the one who makes the decisions on how we conduct the security here.”
“Mr. Klug will certainly be notified of what’s going on. The chief detective will make him aware of our findings.”
Brother Salvatore tapped the nun on the shoulder and pointed to his watch.
When they were outside, she said, “Thank you Brother for reminding me of the time.”
“Actually we have ten minutes, but your face was so red I thought we should get you a glass of water before we talked to Brother Donato.”
“I’m sorry. I guess I shouldn’t have spoken to Bauer that way. It’s just that…”
“He sounded like he didn’t care? I got that. They seem to be too casual about what happened. If that were my job, I’d be horrified that a murderer broke in and killed a person. I would be more upset if I was supposed to protect that person. They haven’t even tightened security. I wonder if they were in on it.”
Brother Donato found the detectives as soon as the recession ended at the gate. “Please come in. We can sit in my garden.” He held open the gate.
Sister Angela and Brother Salvatore followed him up the path to his cottage. Once at the door, the monk let them through the cottage to the garden where they sat in the shade of the eave.
“You have a lovely garden, Brother. I can smell the plumeria. I thought Brother Pietro’s garden was nice, but yours beats it. It’s very fragrant.”
“We were discussing who followed me out of the church that night, Sister. I assure you that I looked behind me at the gate and saw Brother Pietro.”
“He could have gone back, couldn’t he?”
“Of course. The gate swung back and forth because we were all returning at once. Is that the last time I looked back? That’s more complicated. I can’t remember if I did again. I guess I knew he was following me because of his gait. It sounded like him.”
“I know you can’t see Brother Pietro’s front door,” said Brother Salvatore. “But did you notice his lights on through your window?”
“No. I try not to look. I would have expected him to give me the same courtesy.”
“So you didn’t see a light—just the flash of the explosion. Nothing else?”
Brother Donato put his fingers to his forehead, trying to think. “I’m coming up the walk, trying to stay in prayer. I hear the footsteps. When it isn’t snowing, I always slip out of my sandals and leave them on the front mat. Did you see me do that tonight?”
“Yes, but you also turned around and looked at me when you opened the door.”
“I think I usually do that. In fact, I noticed Brother Pietro following me on several occasions. He usually had his head down, lost in his own prayers, I presume. Let me see. That night, I guess I did look back. I nodded. The figure that was coming toward me—”
“How far away was he?” asked Sister Angela.
“About seven or eight meters back. Not that far. The figure had his hood up, which Brother Pietro didn’t usually have. His face was looking toward me, not down. His face was in the shadow of the hood. I nodded to him, and he dropped his head.”
“Did you think that was rude?”
“Yes. It was just like something Brother Pietro would do.”
“But it might not have been Brother Pietro,” said Brother Salvatore.
“No. He might have thought I actually saw him—that I couldn’t identify him. Oh my, Sister. It wasn’t Brother Pietro, was it?”
Sister Angela slid a piece of paper from her tote. I could only print this out in black and white at the monastery. It’s from a picture taken from the camera at the courtyard gate.” She handed it to the hermit. “What do you see?”
Brother Donato stared at it. He dropped his voice. “That isn’t Brother Pietro. The robe isn’t right. We all have a white piping sewn into the sleeve. Look, it makes a break in the sleeve down near the wrist. The picture is grainy, but I can’t see anything interrupt the line of the sleeve.”
Brother Salvatore immediately looked down at his own sleeves. “Like mine?”
“Yes. If this was a real monk, he was from the monastery. Who’s that at the top of the path?”
“That’s you. As you can see, Brother Pietro isn’t the one behind you.”
“What about the frame before this picture?”
“It shows other hermits veering off on other paths. The camera can’t see the gate.”
“I guess I’ll need some sort of truth serum to identify the monk, Sister.”
Sister Angela smiled. “It might be safer if we spread word to the others that you couldn’t identify the monk, Brother. We have to catch this guy before he goes after another hermit.”
The group heard a rustle in the garden across the path. Worrying that someone was listening to their conversation, Sister Angela jumped up to look over the fence.
A woman in a large hat carrying a hose waved at her. When the nun waved back the gardener gestured for her to come closer. The nun walked back through the cottage and out the front door.
“Sister, I think I have found something.”
“Mona, what are you doing?” Sister Angela asked.
“I have been caring for Brother Pietro’s garden. This is my lunch time so Mr. Neri doesn’t complain that I do it. I loved this garden.”
“Did you visit Brother Pietro and care for it when he was here?”
“Oh no. I would have been fired. It’s just that the flowers started to die after the explosion. I have been coming here for the last week. I weed and water the plants. That’s what I wanted to tell you. Today I weeded this section here,” she said, pointing to the spot.
Sister Angela leaned closer and peeked over the top of the fence.
“I saw something in a crack in the fence. See? She pointed her gardening glove, the finger having a bent tip. The plaster is cracked here—only the crack is a lot bigger because my weed eliminator has a sharp point and the plaster crumbled.”
“Did you get the object out?”
Mona reached into her apron pocket a pulled out a piece of paper. “I can’t read it. It’s so faded.”
Sister Angela took it and opened it up. “I can’t read it either. I’ll make sure the detectives get this, Mona.”
“What is it?” asked Brother Salvatore.
“It’s a piece of paper with writing on it. I can’t read it in the sun. You and I can try to decipher the letters later.”
“He could have written the monk’s name down,” said Brother Salvatore.
“Or it could have been a hiding place that most of the hermits knew about. They might have been exchanging notes.”
Brother Salvatore tilted his head. “I think you’re making fun of me, Sister, aren’t you?”
Sister Angela smiled. “Come along, Brother Salvatore. We have to let Brother Donato get back to his prayers. Stay safe, Brother Donato. Let me know if you can think of anything else.”
Brother Donato stood and surveyed the cottages around him. When he had turned around completely, his eyes came to rest on the woods beyond the fence. He looked troubled by their discussion. Who would not be nervous? There had been a murderer in their midst, and he now realized that the murderer knew exactly where he lived.
Nineteen
Golden Locks
Sister Angela knocked once before opening the door.
Neri stood, a telephone receiver in his hand. The white of shock slowly grew until the nun could feel the heat of anger radiating around his cheek. “Please sit down, Sister. I have an important phone call I have to finish. What? Yes. I have someone in my office. I shall call you when I am free.” He put down the receiver and stared at her. “What makes you think I have all day to talk to you, Sister? I hav
e important work to do here. I am sure your bishop will agree.”
“This is a murder investigation, Mr. Neri. Perhaps you would like to answer my questions in the station in Avalle. I can arrange that."
Brother Salvatore sauntered in. “The chief detective would like us to bring in the new evidence, Sister. I called Bassi. He’s on his way.”
“Mr. Neri, I thought you would like to see something the security company has unearthed. She slipped the picture across his desk.”
Neri donned his reading glasses and looked at the grainy photo. “At what am I looking?”
“That’s a frame of streaming video from one of your cameras. It’s the one off the courtyard pointing up the hill at the cottages.”
“When was this taken? At night?”
“Yes, hence the lack of clarity.”
“Aren’t these are the monks returning to their cottages after compline?”
“Yes.”
“So?”
“Who do you see?”
“There seem to be two eremiti walking up one of the paths.”
“And who are they?”
“They have their backs to us. If I am looking up the correct path, one should be Brother Donato and the other should be Brother Pietro. I assume that because you found a body I am supposed to tell you that one of them is an imposter.”
“Can’t you see the difference?”
“I cannot really see the one in front. Is he going into Father Donato’s cottage? I presume you believe that that is indeed Father Donato. That leaves the closer figure. He is short. Brother Pietro was not short.”
“Is he wearing a habit like that of that of the other hermits?”
“Why is he wearing the cowl? Unless it is snowing or raining, most of the eremiti do not wear their cowls. Are there any other cameras that can catch this monk at another angle?”
“No. that’s the only camera positioned inside the courtyard.”
“I am not sure there are enough cameras.”
“Look at the robe, Mr. Neri. Do some of the hermits wear a different kind of robe?”
“There might be some differences. But look at his shoes. I believe the eremiti wear sandals to and from services—at least in the summer. Are you certain this picture was the night of the explosion? Could not the date on this been changed? I think I watched a detective show on television last week where someone managed to change the dates.”
“This is from a video camera, Mr. Neri. Although the camera didn’t catch the explosion directly, the camera later seemed to shake and you can hear the boom.”
“So what are you saying, Sister? That is our murderer?”
“I don’t know who he is. I was wondering if you did.”
“I was at home with my wife and two sons.”
“Do you recognize the person with that figure or with that design of robe?”
“No.”
Sister Angela and Brother Salvatore walked across the courtyard to the kitchen.
“Hey,” said Pozza. “Have you asked anyone else about the knife?”
“Not yet,” said Brother Salvatore. “I know I’ve seen it somewhere. I’ve hardly spent any time at the monastery to ask about it there.”
Bassi walked in. “I hear you two need a ride back down.”
“I would like to stop at the power company in Collinaterra. Then we need to go to the station in Avalle.”
“Do you have another list of supplies you need, Pozza? I can pick those up while I’m waiting for our detectives in Avalle.”
The nun and the monk walked into the power office and asked to see Lippi. “Hello, Mr. Vito. Is Mr. Lippi in?”
“Yes. One moment,” he said, phoning the manager. “He’ll be right out.”
Lippi opened the door almost immediately. “What can I help you with, Sister?”
“I just want to know if what was written on the note we found has anything to do with this company. Excuse me if I don’t hand you the note. It has my fingerprints on it because I didn’t know it was evidence, but anymore fingerprints will muddle the lab.” She turned over the plastic sandwich bag and walked over to the window for more light. The number is G59-243794-S.”
He wrote it down. “That looks like a product number. Not from this office but from an online house of some sort. Watch, I’ll go to the internet and open one of the computer game retailers. The product number for a Mario game is T5938984-L2. Every company has its own product number for what they sell.”
“It sounds like trying to find a specific tree in our forest.”
“Actually, you can google the number and see what comes out. Here it is. The company seems to be a Busto Sistemi. So let’s look up that company. Ah, here. It makes electronic equipment.”
“Why would anyone write that down and hide it?”
“It looks like a pretty good clue, Sister,” said Brother Salvatore. “If I were going to be murdered, I might write down something like that—just in case the culprits found the note. I think this hermit might have known who was looking for him.”
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 your 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 Broth
er 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 Brother 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?”
Il Pane Della Vita Page 15