Il Pane Della Vita

by Coralie Hughes Jensen

“I need to get to the termini before the trains stop.”

  “Let us go then,” he said, grabbing his briefcase. “I live in that direction so it will be no trouble. I shall get on with the investigation first thing in the morning and will email you. It sounds exciting.”

  Sister Angela caught the seven-thirty high speed train to Florence. Commuters mulled around, talking into cell phones, or with earphones, listening to music.

  She sat down in a seat near the door and thought about what was said. It certainly was a tragedy. Poor Ciana. She really tried to make it on her own. Why did she not look for another job instead of following Russo to Salvi? All too often, women make mistakes and end up with a child without a father. What made this story different? Ciana seemed to make the same mistake over and over. First she hoped her husband, who left her to become a priest, still loved her. When he moved on for good, she didn’t try to use her recommendation to get another job. Instead she chose to go home. Did she hope her father would treat Regina differently? She let him get an annulment for the marriage and did not run away when he essentially sold her to Vicari. What was she thinking? I guess she was broken when she was disowned the first time. Did she only think of her daughter from then on? Sister Angela took out a tissue and discreetly wiped the corners of her eyes.

  What about Russo? How guilty was he? The fact that he chose to marry Ciana and deserted his family when they had no means of support showed culpability. Was he so surprised when Fabri got rid of him? How hard did he try to make Ciana see that their marriage would destroy all of them? How holy is a man who leaves his family to vow celibacy so he can make more money but then fails to care for them? Sister Angela squirmed. That was none of her business. Was becoming a monk his form of remorse? Possibly.

  The train stopped, and she had just enough time to make it to the local train to Avalle, several tracks over. She put her red-stripped bag on the rack above and sat down in a comfortable seat facing another couple. She nodded to them.

  Before leaving the station, Sister Angela got out her phone and called Bassi, who was just finishing his dinner. “Oh, Ignazio, I’m so glad I got you. I’ll be arriving in Avalle in about ninety minutes. Will you be able to pick me up?”

  “Of course, Sister. I hope your trip was successful.”

  “Yes, very. I only need a bit more. The chief of Busto Sistemi Enterprises promised to send me information tomorrow. I can’t wait to get together with Brother Salvatore to put the pieces of the puzzle together. See you in Avalle.

  Sister Angela smiled to herself. Gina was the strong one. She did what she wanted. Why did Fabri treat her differently? Because he knew she would not flinch if he threatened to disown her? She was prepared. She finished her degree and promised to marry someone who would work hard. The young woman was raised in the same splendor that her mother was, but Gina did not need it. Did she have her father’s genes? No, she was stronger than her father. Was it the new generation that made middle class more palatable? Perhaps.

  Twenty Five

  Unplanned Investigation

  Exhausted, Sister Angela headed to the dining room to see if there was anything left for dinner. Brother Salvatore was still covering the tables.

  “Thank goodness you’re back, Sister. We’ve discovered something concerning the camera.”

  “Perhaps it would be better if we headed for the library. I too discovered quite a bit. Now we have to see if we can stitch it all together so that it makes sense.”

  “Did you eat? I know there’s soup left. I’ll heat it up and bring it to you there.

  When they were settled in the library, Sister Angela told Brother Salvatore the story of Brother Pietro’s life.”

  “You were right. The visitor was his daughter. Is she coming back?”

  “Yes, she has a few business dealings to handle. Then she plans to return and be with Nico. That’s one less lost soul in that family.”

  “Still, the fact that Brother Pietro was married when he was ordained is troubling. I didn’t think that sort of thing happened anymore.”

  “I’m not surprised,” said Sister Angela. “Secrets were everywhere twenty to thirty years ago. When bishops keep secrets…”

  “That has become more difficult,” said Brother Salvatore. “Technology would have caught him today. You had to rely on an old man with a fading memory.”

  “I think Bishop Emeritus Trombetta remembered his indiscretion. I made both he and his housekeeper edgy. They thought they were important enough to make big decisions. As long as he didn’t set the example, no one else down the line felt they could report Father Teo’s transgressions. Hopefully technology and guidance will make everyone think twice before breaking their vows. You said you found something?” she asked, her fatigue dwindling with every sip of soup.

  “Monte and I took a police technician up the hill to PEur’s security system. Evidently someone rigged the camera on the back perimeter gate. The doormen were watching a still snapshot of the forest. It’s funny. When you questioned the doormen, they didn’t go around and check the cameras again. They should be fired.”

  “That’s grounds for breaking our contract with PEur. If the abbey needs the security, and evidently it does, then a more reputable security company should be found.” The nun took another sip of her soup. “So we have answered the question about how people went in and out of the hermitage without our seeing them. But we still don’t know why Brother Pietro went to the waterfall so late at night.”

  “Or if there was one stranger or two. Remember the man in the monk disguise was on the path just before the explosion, and Brother Pietro had not yet hiked up to his cottage. We can conclude that our visiting monk didn’t escort him down with force.”

  “Correct. We have a problem there, and since we don’t have film telling us if Brother Pietro trekked down on his own…” She stopped to think for a second. “We should have video showing Brother Pietro on one of the other paths, walking to the gate. Was he alone then?”

  Brother Salvatore’s shoulders sank. “We have to go over all the other video again?”

  “Can you think of another way?”

  “Let’s assume he got a note from someone, telling him to be at the waterfall. He wouldn’t go willingly, would he?”

  “Wait a minute, Brother. There’s a small possibility that might be the case. Why would he comply with the note? Who would be trust?”

  “Maybe it was about his secrets. Maybe he was being blackmailed.”

  “Do you think he would descend the hill in the middle of the night to face a blackmailer? He would have to possess more courage than I do,” said Sister Angela. “And a reputable person would not blackmail him in the first place. Who would you do that for? Imagine that you got a note from someone, asking you to come to the waterfall at midnight. I assume you wouldn’t do it for just anyone.”

  “No. I would probably rather sleep. Nothing could pull me away from my bed. Well, maybe the abbot could. I’d think he was in trouble.”

  “What about your mother?”

  “Yes. Or my sister.”

  “I think you just thought of someone who might have sent that note.”

  “Did Gina send the note?”

  “Or someone else sent the note, and Brother Pietro assumed it was his daughter’s handwriting. In that case, he could have descended the hill by himself. The disguised monk could have followed him, knowing Brother Pietro would be at the waterfall, waiting for Gina to appear.”

  “I think you solved it, Sister Angela.”

  “We solved it. You actually figured out who might write him. We can tell Monte and Draco first thing tomorrow morning.”

  Sister Angela retired to her room and took a hot shower. Then she sat down in front of her laptop, hoping Sabatini had managed to send her the information about his former employee, Rocco DePollo. There were no new emails. Deciding she should add the tidbits Brother Salvatore told her to her notes, she looked up her files. The file was missing. Figuring she was tired,
she started the process again, this time peeking inside the other folders. Again, she couldn’t find anything. Nearly panicking, she phoned downstairs, hoping either Brother Pascal or the abbot was not napping before Compline.

  “Hello, this is Brother Pascal.

  “This is Sister Angela. I’m so glad I caught you,”

  “I was just about to go to my cell. What can I do for you?”

  “Has anyone been in my room?”

  “Today? No one has asked for the keycard, Sister. Was your door locked when you got back?”

  “Yes. Perhaps it’s my laptop. Maybe it’s gone crazy. It’s important that I see my file on the hard drive, but I can’t pull it up.”

  “Not to worry. I believe Brother Bruno is in Brother Enrico’s room playing cards. Shall I ask him to come up?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Sister Angela donned her robe, and five minutes later, she heard the knock on the door. “Good evening, Brother Bruno. I’m in trouble if I can’t find one of my files. Perhaps you can retrieve it for me.”

  “Let me just look at a few things here,” Brother Bruno said, kneeling in front of the screen. “You’re right. It isn’t among your files. Let me just check a few other places.”

  “I appreciate your help.”

  “No, I don’t see it. You must have deleted it by accident.”

  “But it’s still on the drive, isn’t it? I thought they stayed forever. All I did was to get on to look at the email I’m expecting from a company in Roma. It should be coming any time. How could I have deleted it?” She looked into his golden-brown eyes and saw sympathy.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t find it,” he said, standing up. “What you put on the Internet stays around forever. That must be what you heard.”

  “I’m really too exhausted to worry about it. Thank you so much for trying to help me. Luckily I have my red-striped bag here with my handwritten notes in it. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted this new-fangled contraption to do the job.”

  As soon as he was gone, she looked at her watch. It was too late for Busto Sistemi to send her the information now. She needed rest and was in a deep sleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

  Sometime during the night, Sister Angela roused. The window was open and strong breezes caused the curtains to billow and crack. She rose and closed the window. It had cooled considerably, and she no longer needed it open. She tumbled back into bed, adjusting the sheets until she was comfortable. She no sooner put her head down on the pillow than she heard a click at the front door in the other room. She did not get up again. She had nothing for a burglar to steal. Yes, maybe the laptop, but she could live without that.

  Soft light flashed across the wall near the bathroom. Someone had lifted the laptop lid and turned on the power. A few minutes passed before the light disappeared. There was a pause. He’s looking for the red-striped bag, she thought. I hope I left it out there instead of in here. Then she heard another click and slight push on the door. Evidently the thief could not resist that second push to make sure the door was secure.

  She waited another few minutes to make sure he was gone before padding out into the other room. The laptop looked like it had not been touched. Would there be any fingerprints? Probably not. The thief would know to wear gloves. She looked around for her bag. It was missing. The nun smiled to herself. She toddled back to the bed and fell asleep once more. When she awoke, it was morning. After showering and dressing, she would call Monte. She was pretty sure she had a suspect.

  Sister Angela trudged into the abbot’s office. Neither the abbot nor Brother Pascal were there. She picked up the receiver and dialed Monte’s cell. “Good morning, Monte.”

  “Welcome back, Sister. I suppose you heard what Brother Salvatore and I found with the cameras.”

  “Yes, what a find. I certainly thought our doormen would have looked at that first. But I also have news.”

  “You found information too? I can’t wait to sit down with you.”

  “You and Detective Loria are welcome. I’ll be in the breakfast room. But that’s not all. I believe I have found our culprit.”

  “How?”

  “I confess I cheated. I set him up. Please get here soon before we scare him off.”

  “We’re on our way, Sister.”

  Outside, Sister Angela ran into the housekeeper, pushing her cart. “Good morning Renata, are you busy today?”

  “Yes, I have to do the first floor. Most are quite neat so I have time to finish it.”

  The nun squeezed by the cart on her way to the Sala. Once past it, she continued a few steps and stopped. “Renata, I assume some of our brothers here wear contacts. While the bathroom is at each end of the hallways, they each have a sink in their cells, correct?

  “Yes, Sister.

  “And when one wears contacts, one usually has drops and a case close by—say on the sink—because if something happens, it’s difficult to grope around for the supplies. I wonder if you could write down the names of the monks whose sinks or shelves have something for contacts.”

  “Yes. You don’t want me to go through their drawers, do you? I can feel under their mattresses when I make the bed.”

  The nun smiled. “I don’t think they would put their drops and case between their mattresses, but if you happen to find a red-striped bag in one of the rooms…”

  “Take it?”

  “No, don’t take anything. Just record whose cell it’s in.”

  When she got to the sala, she immediately went to table to see if there was any bread or croissants left. Then she poured her coffee. Turning around, she scanned the tables for Brother Salvatore. When she didn’t see him, she sat down to enjoy her meal and wait for the detectives.

  Twenty minutes later, she was still drinking coffee. Brother Salvatore hadn’t appeared yet. That’s not like him. He’s usually here right off, pushing me to continue the investigation. Few monks were still in the sala, and Sister Angela decided it might be better to wait for the detectives in the front courtyard.

  When she got to the courtyard, she noticed that Brother Pascal was in the office and opened the door. “Good morning. It’s beautiful out here in the sun. Have you seen Brother Salvatore?”

  “No Sister. I just came from the breakfast. You might try Brother Alonzo. He usually keeps tabs on his future trainees.”

  “Thank you, I will.”

  The nun walked back out and again entered the dining room. Brother Enrico was changing some of the empty tables. “Brother Enrico, have you seen Brother Salvatore?”

  “Yes. He was here very early for a quick breakfast, and then he left.”

  “What did he have to do?”

  “I don’t know. Ask Brother Alonzo in the kitchen.”

  “I’m glad he’s still here.” She walked through the doors to the kitchen. “Brother Alonzo, where did Brother Salvatore have to go so early?”

  “He didn’t tell me. He just said he had to follow up on something for the investigation. I concluded he was doing something for you.”

  “Thank you,” she said, puzzled. When she trekked back to a seat in the courtyard, Sister Angela ran into Brother Valente.

  “What’s the problem, Sister? You look concerned.”

  “I’m looking for Brother Salvatore. Have you seen him?”

  “Yes. He and Brother Bruno were in my studio early this morning, playing with my new software. I told them to get out. Salvatore bragged that he was going up to the waterfall to look for evidence.”

  “Did Brother Bruno say he was going with him?”

  “Yes, the two of them raced off. I suppose they were looking for another toy to play with,” Brother Valente said.

  The nun raced out of the studio before the potter could say anything more.

  In the office again, the nun pushed Brother Pascal aside as she grabbed the receiver. She dialed the number. “Monte, please pick up this message before you’re out of range. Go immediately to the hermitage and climb from there down to the wa
terfall. Brother Salvatore is in great danger. He doesn’t know it yet, but he’s about to become another victim.”

  Twenty Six

  Oasis

  Sister Angela put down the receiver and began to run out the door.

  “Sister,” said Brother Pascal, moving over to open the abbot’s door. “Where are you going?”

  “I have to catch Brother Salvatore. He’s in trouble.”

  The door slowly closed after the nun’s sudden departure.“

  Father Rafaello stood and emerged from his office. “Where’s she going?”

  “She’s running up the trail to try and save Brother Salvatore. He’s evidently in grave trouble. She came in here and called the police, instructing them to drive to the top and descend on the trail by the eremo.”

  “Run and get two water bottles from Brother Alonzo. I’m going after her,” Father Rafaello said, pulling his robe over his head to reveal a linen shirt and jeans. “While you’re getting the bottles, I’ll get my sneakers. Sandals tend to slow me down when I go uphill.”

  Brother Pascal was back in a flash handed him a backpack with a water bottle in each side pouch. “There’s a knife in the center pouch,” the monk explained. “I—I wasn’t sure you would want to use it, but there’s a brother and a nun under your care. We want to see all of you come back.”

  The abbot stood for a half second, dumfounded. “I’ll pray for your soul, Brother,” he said as he disappeared out the office door.

  He would not hear Brother Pascal’s “thank you” as he ran out onto the front portico. With a steady jog, he ran up the road and turned off at the beginning of the track that would eventually lead to the hermitage.

  Sister Angela was not that far up the trail. She had to slow down and climb the hill at a steady pace. She heard him coming and turned to glimpse a handsome middle-age man approaching her. When he was beside her, he handed her a bottle of water.