Chianti Classico

by Coralie Hughes Jensen

  “I’m afraid I did something stupid. I should’ve waited for the detective sergeant to return to help me, but I was too nosey. I discovered the entrance to some sort of secret room under the orphanage and went in on my own. Elmo reprimanded me, and I deserved it. I could’ve destroyed evidence. We now have to wait for the police to examine what was still there.”

  Sister Angela interrupted. “Perhaps I should’ve asked before we sat down, but I’d love to hear about what you all do.”

  Sister Liona smiled. “At the end of the table is Sister Julietta. She works at the food bank.”

  “I’m so excited to meet you, Sister Angela,” said Sister Julietta. “I’ve heard all about you. I hope you can help us find Pia. What a cute child. Beside me is Sister Agata, who works with me at the food bank.”

  “Sister Agata’s from Genoa,” said Sister Liona. “Across from you here is Sister Sabrina. She helps out in a nursing home. Father Calvino at the cathedral is so glad she’s there because she can call him in if he’s needed. Next to her is Sister Trista. She and Sister Giana have opened a shelter for local homeless. It was needed. The government closed the last one a few years ago, and the poor had to make it to Florence or sleep in the streets.”

  “And you work in legal aid. You’re a lawyer then.”

  “Yes,” said Sister Liona. “There are good lawyers, you know. We aren’t all selfish and greedy.”

  “Of course not. You who offer your services to those who can’t afford an attorney are definitely not greedy. I suppose you do some drug cases. What else do you take on?”

  “We work on immigration complications, thefts, and even murders. I’ve dealt with kidnapping within the family, but nothing having to do with a kidnapping by another nun.”

  “Ah yes, your very own crime,” said Sister Angela. “Mother Faustine, can you tell Sister Daniela and me more about Pia? Her history would be helpful. How do we know we aren’t dealing with a member of the family coming to steal Pia?”

  “Heavens,” said Sister Natalia. “Why would they steal her? All they have to do is ask for her.”

  “There’s a procedure, is there not? If they wanted to raise her, they could just take her. But aren’t there rules about when they adopt? Perhaps Sister Liona can tell us about that.”

  “Yes, there are a myriad of papers to be signed. The family would have to procure an attorney to help them through the process. I don’t know if that’s ever stopped someone who wanted to adopt, however.”

  “I’m not sure poor Pia has any family, though,” said Mother Faustine.

  Sister Angela turned to face the mother superior.

  “The child was left on a doorstep of a convent when she was about two. There was no name so the nuns named her themselves.”

  “What doorstep?” asked Sister Angela.

  “Pia was given to us by a group of Benedictine nuns at the Sacro Cuore della Francesca Convent in Castel Valori, north of Poppi.”

  “No one saw how she got there?”

  “No. The child was alone. The nuns brought her in and cared for her.”

  “So you have no record of any relatives,” said Sister Angela. “That opens the door to the possibility that a relative might be trying to retrieve her. You have no idea, then, if she is indeed an orphan.”

  “No. She was with the nuns at the convent for two years before they reported they had a child. Any investigation of an incident that might have resulted in her appearance on their doorstep would’ve gone cold.”

  “But that’s not true, is it? We have history all around us. Marriages, births, and deaths are all recorded somewhere. That’s a start. Computers have made it impossible to hide anything. A parent wouldn’t leave a baby on a doorstep without a good reason. The circumstances would have to have been pretty dire to result in such an action.”

  “An unwed mother might have…”

  “I don’t have the statistics in front of me, but I’m afraid that in the last couple of years, few pregnant mothers have gone to the Church for help to find loving parents for an unwanted child,” said Sister Angela. “They either keep the child and become single parents or offer to become surrogates to a family seeking a baby on the Internet.” Sister Angela cleared her throat. “And this particular unwed mother kept the child for two years before she decided to abandon her.”

  Sister Daniela suddenly spoke up. “I can’t imagine why a mother would leave a baby, unless she was in trouble and thought the baby would be safer with the nuns.”

  “Exactly, Sister,” said Sister Angela. “And the fact that the nuns didn’t report the child to the authorities makes this an interesting case. I must meet with these ladies in person.”

  “But first we have to wait for the police to figure out who might have used our basement as a bedroom,” said Sister Daniela. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to put it out of my mind when I return to the classroom tomorrow.”

  “What did the nuns say to you when they delivered the child two years ago, Mother?”

  “I haven’t spoken with them directly. Sister Liona and Sister Trista picked her up and brought her to the orphanage. There are so many rules. We have to follow procedure so a child’s family can’t come after us claiming we took the child. With all the problems in the Church, you can imagine what a relative might think. We know the Church doesn’t collect children as future priests and nuns, Sister, but others might not be aware of that.”

  “In this case, however, we’re open to scrutiny already,” said Sister Liona. “We don’t even know if Pia’s an orphan.”

  “The nuns at the convent are liable here,” said Mother Faustine. “They took in a child without reporting her. The police didn’t know to investigate a possible crime.”

  “I suppose you’re right, but Mission House hasn’t conducted an investigation into Pia’s circumstances over the last two years either,” said Sister Angela. “You accepted a child who might still have parents and placed her in your orphanage. Surely Sister Liona understands what I’m trying to say.”

  “You have a point, Sister,” said Sister Liona. “Mission House could probably fight culpability because law enforcement was involved in the transfer of the child to our facility. Unfortunately, we’ve opened ourselves to a fight if the relatives find out what happened. That fight would cost us money and reputation. I believe we should tread carefully when investigating this crime. Sister Angela may solve the crime but involve all of us in legal entanglement that obliterates all the good our organizations do.”

  “You’re right, Sister Liona. I must work with the police to find out what happened. I can’t do it without them. I’ll keep you all informed about my findings. But you must know that my primary purpose will be to find Pia. If we don’t find her, no matter what we reveal to those involved, the Church may be negligent in the eyes of the world.

  Sister Angela sat in a comfortable chair and let one of the other sisters serve her coffee. “The dinner was delicious,” she told Sister Liona who sat down beside her.

  “I know you didn’t want to discuss what happened today during dinner, but can we discuss it now? People are dying to hear about what Sister Daniela found.”

  “I suppose, as long as Sister Daniela does the talking.”

  The other nuns grabbed chairs and put them around the room. Sister Daniela was given an easy chair near Sister Angela.

  “Again, I want to apologize for being late. I took the time to bathe and change my habit before we came. I washed it out, but it’s difficult to clear out all the dust in that little room.”

  Mother Faustine handed a coffee to Sister Daniela before sitting in one of the free chairs. “Please, what made you try to go into that dirty crawlspace to begin with?”

  “I noticed when I came into work in the basement the morning following Pia’s disappearance that the back door was unlocked. I was alone and went looking for my students. They were lined up along the walls on the ground floor. I found out Pia was missing then. We decided the children who may have s
een Pia’s departure should come down to class and draw pictures of what they witnessed. While my older students supervised the art lesson, I stepped out and locked the back door. Then Evelina and I decided to check the laundry room at the end of the hall. It was empty, though it’s usually in use most of the week.”

  “What made you think of the laundry room?”

  “I don’t know. I guess we should’ve left it to the police, but the police weren’t accustomed to seeing it on a daily basis. We went in and discovered that the grate on a vent in the back corner looked as if someone had tampered with it. Today I decided to have Detective Sergeant Sacco accompany me to the laundry room so we could check it out further.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Sister Liona. “You said the door to the outside was unlocked when you came in. I would assume the kidnapper entered and exited through the back door.”

  “Perhaps. One of the children saw a nun in the vineyard next door that night. The old nun could easily have entered through the back door after she walked to the gate near the road and then hiked to the basement door in the rear of the orphanage. But where did she come from before that?”

  “I’m not sure that helps us,” said Sister Liona

  “It’s just that I had a feeling there was more. The detective sergeant and I soon discovered there wasn’t a duct in the wall behind the grate.”

  “Could the nun and Pia have crawled through the space?” asked Mother Faustine.

  “Probably not. It was too tiny. But when I turned off the ceiling bulb, there was light shining through the hole. That wall’s in the middle of the house. Where was the light coming from? We went outside and noticed windows along the far wall. They weren’t big and half of them had soil pushed against them from the hill rising to the front of the house. Even though Elmo tried to convince me it was just crawlspace below that part of the house, I decided there had to be another entrance. I scoured the cleaning closet, removing most of the supplies. When I didn’t find anything, I left them on the floor and moved to the cloak closet. I confess I have to clean up the supply closet tomorrow morning before class. The cloak closet was neat but not perfect. I noticed that boots lined up against the back wall were pulled forward. I moved the jackets and found that I could open a door by pulling on the rack.”

  “Why didn’t we know about this?” asked Mother Faustine.

  “It wasn’t in the plans,” said Sister Natalia. “We’ve tugged on the rack dozens of times, at least twice a year, depending on the season. Nothing ever opened up for me.”

  “Perhaps nothing opened because it was well sealed before that night. I could feel air brushing my cheek. That meant the secret door wasn’t really shut tight when I entered.”

  “What did you find?” asked Mother Faustine.

  “The room wasn’t as bright as I thought, though some light was shining in through two of the small windows. The second the door opened, a cloud of dust and dirt rose like a tornado. If the culprit was in there, she must not have been inside long because it would’ve been difficult to breathe. I struggled to get a window open to let out the dust. All the panes were stuck except the one at the back wall. I tugged so hard, I fell backwards onto an old mattress. Talk about dust—it whooshed up around me. I turned to get up and ran into an object behind me.”

  The group fell into an eerie silence.

  “Well?” asked Mother Faustine.

  “Elmo heard me scream and came running. He saw the cloak closet door open and entered through the secret door. The dust was already beginning to settle. I pointed to the mattress. It was a pile of clothing. Elmo called for a team. They’re collecting prints and materials in the room.”

  “But as you already told us,” said Sister Liona. “The room wouldn’t have been so dusty if someone had recently been in there.”

  “We must wait for test results to determine if the items in the room are related to Pia’s disappearance. Someone had used that room at one time or another. I didn’t even get to examine any of the evidence so now we have to wait.”

  “You sound disappointed, Sister Daniela. You were frightened and understandably so,” said Mother Faustine. “You could’ve been hurt.”

  “If I hadn’t screamed, I would’ve been able to examine the evidence before Elmo found me. And if it had pertained to the child’s kidnapping, we’d be a step ahead in the case. I wish I’d kept my wits about me.”

  Sister Angela smiled. “I’ll try to talk to Ricco tomorrow or the day after. I may need a ride into town if anyone’s going my way.”

  “I’ll ask Michel if you can use the truck,” said Sister Daniela.

  Chapter Eight

  The children gathered in the dining room for lunch.

  The two nuns sat outside on the grassy slope when Chief Inspector Pagano approached. “I hope you’re all right, Sister Daniela. You should’ve waited for Elmo before you entered the room.”

  “Did you find the nun’s habit?” asked Sister Angela.

  “Nothing black. There were sheets, a blanket, and a towel in the pile on the bed next to Sister Daniela.”

  “It felt like more than that,” said Sister Daniela, playing with a tiny flower growing out of the lawn. “I thought it was a body.”

  “You couldn’t see. That place was dusty.”

  “What are you going to do now?” asked Sister Angela.

  “We’ll take what we’ve found back to the station and examine the items. There might be DNA among the sheets. There was no pillow so we have no pillowcase, but you never know.”

  “And your opinion?” asked Sister Daniela.

  “The dust was so thick I doubt anyone had been in that room for years. Do you think this nun suspect could’ve slept there the night of the abduction? Her habit wouldn’t have been black when she approached the victim. As for her white headpiece—it was probably bigger than yours, Sister. You two wear more modern ones. Vatican II changed everything.”

  Sister Daniela touched the edge of her veil. “It’s a good thing I removed it before my search. I didn’t have to scrub it this afternoon.”

  “I’m so glad you were able to bathe and don a fresh habit earlier,” said Sister Angela. “How long do you think it will take to get the DNA back from the lab?”

  “About a week, assuming we can find something to test. Then we have to match it to someone in our database. Odds are, we have no nuns in there, but you never know. Sometimes they’re arrested for protesting in government buildings.”

  “A week’s too long, Ricco. The child will be long gone.”

  “I agree. We can’t wait around for the results. We have to find another lead.”

  Sister Daniela walked into her classroom to teach until the final bell that would send her students to study hour on the first floor. Thank you for the help, Allegra.”

  “Do they think Pia was in there?” asked Liliana. “Did the witch make her stay there?”

  “No,” said Sister Daniela. “It’s just an empty room. We don’t know where she took Pia. I’m changing the subject. I need to assign some homework.”

  From inside the classroom, Sister Angela stared through the window at the fence and the vineyard next door. She’d have to find out more about the vintner. What was his background? Did he know the nuns personally? Suddenly she stood and walked out the door. Someone had just passed by the window. She had to find out who he was.

  Sister Daniela must have been too busy to notice. She continued answering questions and handing out new assignments.

  Sister Angela spied a new picnic table on the grass and sat down on the bench. Not a minute later, a man appeared from around the corner with another bench.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  “Gavino Abiati, the estate manager.”

  “I didn’t know the orphanage had one. How long have you been here?”

  The young man removed his gardening glove to swipe away a curl that was stuck to his forehead. “I took over my father’s business when he died about ten years ago.”<
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  “Do you go inside?”

  “Yes, of course, though I usually enter through the basement door when it’s open.”

  “Do you have a key for when it’s locked?”

  “Yes, of course.” He pulled up his t-shirt and showed her the dozens of keys hanging from a ring on his belt loop. Please don’t ask me which one’s for this door.”

  “I take it that means you rarely use it. Is one of those keys for the nurse’s room off the deck above us?”

  He unclipped the ring and handed it to her. “If you’re asking had I been in the basement earlier today, the answer is yes. The door wasn’t locked. I needed the bag of fertilizer that was stored in the supply closet. I passed the cloak closet. Someone had actually broken into the basement chamber. I hadn’t seen that room since I was a kid.”

  The nun’s ears perked up. “Are you saying you knew the room was there?”

  “Yes. It was my grandfather’s room. He used to sleep in it. There was another chamber where the classroom is now. It wasn’t as big, but it had a table and sink with a stove. There was a toilet off the living area.”

  “When did that change?”

  “My grandfather died in the seventies. During his lifetime, the nuns weren’t here. The building was a rooming house for veterans. There were quite a few boarders in here.”

  “Did the former residents do a lot of damage to the grounds?”

  “No. They were pretty respectful. My grandfather used to remind me that they’d been through the war and that everyone was working hard to recover from it.”

  “So did the former owner block off that room after you grandfather died?”

  “Pretty much. My father didn’t want to live down there so the owner had him board up the door. Then the nuns moved in and wanted the extra space. They had my father build the closets in front of that wall. Then they instructed him to take down a wall or two and create a huge classroom.”

  “Wait. Go back. Did you know about the secret door?”

  “Yes. I helped him put in that door.”