“What gave them away?”
“There was a paper towel laid out for me, and I washed my hands and dried them. I turned to find a wastepaper basket near the sink—the kind you opened by pushing down on a lever with your foot. I was never the athletic type, Sister. I once tried the trick with the football where you sort of kick it and it pops back up so you can balance it on top of your foot. I couldn’t balance it. I kicked it into my face, breaking my nose.”
The nun listened to his amusing story, amazed that he’d be so honest.
“I pressed the pedal on the trash contraption and somehow broke it, dumping over its contents. I quickly bent over to pick up the paper and such and found a diaper. Well, it was actually a little girl’s pair of panties, Sister. I was shocked but still held onto hope that there was an innocent explanation.”
“I see. What did you do?”
“I stood the can upright. I’m afraid I couldn’t find the broken pedal that had managed to escape the wrath of my foot. Then I carried the panties into the foyer. I’ve never seen so many distraught faces in one room before. I asked for one of them to get the child.”
Sister Angela had her hand over her mouth.
“I asked if they had some sort of permission to have the child at the convent. They explained she’d been left there. They said they didn’t know what to do with her. The nuns were aware they’d crossed some sort of line. I told them I’d go to the police. When I left I felt terrible. The child was very young, but she seemed to be attached to them. She’d evidently lived with them awhile.”
“Did you work with the police to find a place for the toddler?”
“No. It was out of my hands. The Church didn’t need another scandal. We have too few parishioners as it is. This is an expensive church to keep afloat. Our income’s shrinking.”
“Have you tried to charge tourists for the privilege of looking at the beautiful artwork here?”
In a grand gesture, Father Montez gazed in all directions. “I can’t even get tourists to come in when it’s free.”
Sister Angela leaned against the headrest and closed her eyes. The click-clack of the tracks was relaxing, but her mind still raced. Had the police sergeant taken her seriously? If so, his face didn’t show it. Detective Sergeant Este Turo listened to some of the nun’s theories as she sat across the desk from him. He was young with short light brown hair and green eyes. He was so still Sister Angela had to force her gaze from his as she spoke.
“I looked through the papers at the time that Pia was dropped off at the convent, Detective Sergeant. There were events in the area that could’ve produced a situation where a child might become parentless. I assume each incident was thoroughly investigated.” She looked for a response but he gave none. “For example, there was an avalanche in the hill above Alceda.”
“Yes,” he finally said. “There were three deaths and even more injuries. The hillside was scoured. There were no other bodies, and no one else was reported missing. Don’t you think we would’ve heard that someone was missing by now?”
“There was also a bank robbery here in town. Could there have been some sort of kidnapping with that?”
“No. The robbers were captured.”
The nun squirmed. “Certainly you’re sure they were the ones involved. They wore masks. Were the masks found?”
“Yes the masks were in the getaway car. They drove their own vehicle so there was no other driver.”
“But…”
“Okay, I see your point. There may have been another suspect waiting for them, but neither suspect revealed such a partner. Most of the time, this type of criminal makes sure he isn’t the only one taking the blame. All the money and goods were recovered.”
“Not if the additional partners were relatives.”
“You’re correct, but you have to admit, Sister, that it’s a stretch to believe an armed thief would commit an unrelated kidnapping or murder.”
“There was also a car accident close by.”
“We do have accidents…”
“But this one was different. The newspaper revealed that the car had a dent that indicated the driver had been forced off the road.”
“Yes, if I remember correctly, the driver died. Hit-and-run accidents aren’t uncommon. There was no evidence that there were other passengers in the car. Do you think the offender got out of the other car, stole the child, and then delivered it to the nuns? I suppose that’s possible. The other driver could’ve felt guilty and feared harm would come to child, but why take all the evidence of the toddler’s existence? There would’ve been some sort of car seat, toys, or blanket—items the nuns didn’t find on the child. The story isn’t very convincing.”
The nun looked at her notes. “There was a pile-up in Poppi with three people killed.”
“That’s a bit farther away. I believe the Poppi police looked into that one. I don’t see the connection. Maybe you should ask them.”
The nun sat back. “What theories do you have, Detective Sergeant?”
“We believe the child was probably left because the parents no longer thought they could take care of her. We checked around Castel Valori and found no one who would’ve done that. We collected DNA but found no relatives.”
“Therefore you believe someone outside the area left her at the convent because nuns would be able to care for the child.”
“It could also been someone from outside the country.”
The nun’s brows shot up involuntarily. “That doesn’t ring true to me, Detective Sergeant. Why would nonnatives feel the child would be safer among people of a different culture?”
“I’m talking about refugees of some sort. You know Italy’s a gateway into Europe, Sister. Suppose a refugee feared he or she would be deported to the home country. What’s safer than dropping off an anonymous child? Italy wouldn’t expel a child, especially when the authorities didn’t know which country she came from.”
“I see. You’re saying that the refugees are escaping from some sort of war-torn area. I understand how difficult it might be to track such a child. What I don’t understand is what interest someone may have in the child now. You’re aware Pia was kidnapped. Perhaps the parents came back and tracked the child to Filari. Worried they might be captured and deported again, they stole the child instead of asking the nuns at the orphanage or the police for their child back.”
“I’m not included in the search for the child. I don’t know what theories the Siena police have. Your conjecture’s just as good as any other.”
The nun stood. “I really must get the train,” she said. “I do hope when I return we can work together on finding her.”
“Are you planning to return, Sister?”
“I believe the kidnapping in Filari’s related to the original drop off at the convent here. Finding out more about Pia will help us uncover where she is. Perhaps she isn’t an Italian citizen, but she’s still a beloved child. I’m not ready to let any six year old end up in the hands of criminals. I also believe you have more interest in the case than you reveal.” She smiled. “I look forward to working with you, Detective Sergeant. Here’s my email address. I’d appreciate it if you’d give your files a peek and send me other things that might have happened around Castel Valori that didn’t make the papers.”
The detective sergeant stood and shook her hand.
The nun roused when she heard the train horn. She shaded her eyes to see what she could out the window. On the hillside, a few lights twinkled. Was the train slowing? She stopped the conductor as he passed her seat. “Are we entering Siena?”
“No, Sister, there’s something on the tracks ahead.”
“Is it common for this train to stop when something’s on the tracks? I hope they aren’t bandits.”
The conductor smiled but also continued to appear concerned. He vanished through the door at the end of the aisle.
The train remained in one spot for nearly thirty minutes. Sister Angela gestured to the coffee la
dy, who pushed her cart down the aisle.
“Are you still serving espresso?”
“Yes, Sister. It’s late, but we can serve you coffee.”
“Please. Do you know how long we’re to wait here? I’ve someone picking me up at the terminal in Siena. I hope she doesn’t give up on me.”
“There’s something on the tracks. It’s very hush-hush.”
“I hope it isn’t a body or anything like that.”
“They haven’t told me anything. It could be a bomb for all I know.”
The nun stood to open the window. She leaned out and looked toward the locomotive. She couldn’t see anything. The coffee lady returned in five minutes with an espresso.
“Ooh, a cookie. How delightful?” said Sister Angela. “Have you heard anything more?”
“They’ve cleared whatever it was. We should be moving again in about five minutes.”
“Are the police there?”
“Yes,” the coffee lady said. “Two policemen came onboard and asked the conductor a few questions. The engineer would’ve been the only one who saw something though.”
“I didn’t see them come through.”
“No, they disembarked and walked toward the front of the train again. I think they wanted to know if anyone boarded the train when it stopped.”
“I didn’t see anyone new in this car. I suppose the conductor would be the person who remembered everyone.” The nun took a sip of her coffee. “Why would the police be involved? It would have to have been something important.”
“You mean they must think it’s something to do with terrorism?”
“I would’ve loved to speak with them myself. If it was a body, what did the body look like?” Sister Angela asked, mostly to herself.
“You have a strange obsession with murder, Sister,” said the coffee lady. “Most of the human victims who die on the tracks are suicides.”
The nun nibbled on her cookie and smiled at the coffee lady. “You’re right. It was probably a cow or some other animal. I don’t know why we would automatically think it was something more frightening.” She handed the coffee lady some coins. “Thank you for the refreshment. Hopefully we’ll get a tailwind that thrusts us into Siena on time.”
Chapter Thirteen
Empty cup in hand, Sister Angela descended the stairs and headed for the kitchen, shading her eyes from the sun that shone directly through the large windows.
“Good morning,” said Sister Daniela. “Do you need more coffee? I have breakfast ready for you. Don’t take too long. I still have to be at work.”
“Thank you, Sister. I appreciated you coming to pick me up at the terminal last night.”
“Aside from the train being late, I couldn’t wait to speak with you about what you found out.”
The older nun sat down at the table, and Sister Daniel poured her some juice. “I told you about the commotion on the tracks last night, didn’t I? I forgot to ask if you’d heard anything about it when you were waiting for me outside the terminal.”
“No. They said nothing. Only that you were late.” She placed the honey on the table beside the butter. Then she set a basket of hardboiled eggs in front of Sister Angela.
The nun positioned an egg in the cup and began to crack it with her spoon. Sister Daniela handed the older nun a plate with a croissant and finally sat down beside her.
“I might have to go into Siena and find out what the police know about it,” said Sister Angela. “What if it has to do with our investigation?”
“I don’t want to think about it. The idea of anybody being hit by a train makes me tremble.”
“I had other things to talk to the chief detective about too. I want to speak with him face to face. Perhaps he’s already considering the questions.” The older nun drew a long sip of her cooling espresso. “Ahhh,” she said. “The taste of espresso is a joy only second to that of Michel’s riserva.”
The two nuns trekked past La Barca’s Vineyard toward the orphanage.
“I don’t know if I told you, but Martino gave me a tour of his winery. It’s quite unlike Michel’s. The wine tastes different too.”
“Do you like it better or worse?” asked Sister Daniela.
“Just different. In my mind I can taste Martino’s going with strong meat—like game. We also found a piece of nun’s habit.”
“What? Why didn’t you tell me on the ride home last night? Isn’t that the story Grazia told you? Did she really see a nun in La Barca’s vineyard?”
“Last night I concentrated solely on telling you what happened during my visit to the convent. Yes, it looks like Grazia really saw a nun. Martino evidently didn’t know anything about it until I mentioned the story. We both went to the spot where she saw the nun and looked around. He found a swatch of a nun’s habit. I was hoping to talk to the chief detective today. Maybe I can request a ride into town from Sister Liona.”
“You should’ve told me. I would’ve asked for the truck.”
“I’m sure Michel would love to have his truck for work. I’ll find a way to talk to the chief detective.”
Sister Daniela removed the keys from her pocket and let them in through the back door of the orphanage.
“We have a meeting in ten minutes,” said Sister Natalia, peering around the classroom door. “Ricco and Elmo are coming to update us on what they’ve found,”
“You go ahead,” Sister Daniela told Sister Angela. “I have to wait for my students so I can put someone in charge.”
Sister Angela followed Sister Natalia up the stairs and took a seat in the office off the TV room. Sister Edita entered and placed carafes of espresso at each end of the long table and a plateful of cookies in the center. The nun resisted the temptation to look at them, though the smell of fresh-baked cookies made her stomach rumble.
Soon after the nuns gathered around the table, the two detectives arrived. Sister Carmela rose and poured each man a cup of espresso and added cookies to their plates.
“Welcome back, Sister Angela. I hope your trip was successful,” said Pagano.
The nun smiled. “Maybe you can start by telling everyone about the swatch of cloth.”
“Yes. Unfortunately, we didn’t learn much. The results of tests will probably show nothing, except maybe something from Martino La Barca.”
“For those of you who haven’t heard,” said Sister Angela, “Martino found a torn piece of nun’s habit below one of his vines. That seems to verify the story Grazia told about seeing a nun in Martino’s field from the window upstairs the night of the abduction.”
“I sent a team to investigate the area. They found nothing else and no footprints.”
“What about my footprints? I was there. What about Martino’s footprints? He was all over that vine.”
“There were prints like someone had pulled a rake around the whole section of vines. Any evidence that people had been there was erased.”
“Oh my,” said Sister Angela. “Did they ask Martino about it?”
“Yes. He responded that someone who worked with him took a tractor to the area without consulting him.”
“Why did someone need to do that when the harvest’s around the corner? Perhaps you should bring that worker in?”
“I plan to bring both the worker and La Barca in,” said Pagano. “We also had a time look for footprints on the orphanage’s property again. If the old nun had trudged to the back of this building to get in, there would be footprints, right?”
“Presumably,” said one of the nuns.
“Well, we couldn’t find any.”
“Abiati,” said Sister Angela. “The gardener was preparing for a picnic outside the classroom. Perhaps he did something to smooth the dirt. You should probably question him too.”
“I’ll see that he’s interrogated. Did any of the children hear a door shut?”
“If it was at the back of the house, I doubt they would have heard it. It’s another floor down with a thick door at the top of the stairs.”
>
“That might mean the front door was never used,” said Pagano. “After all, I believe it was locked the next morning, wasn’t it, Sister Carmela?”
“I didn’t verify that. In the confusion, anyone could’ve unlocked the front door.”
“I also have a group checking into child sex rings in this area,” said Pagano.
“Good Lord, we don’t have any of those, do we?” asked a visibly-shaken Sister Carmela.
“We can’t identify where the organizations originate. As far as we know, they don’t have to exist in one place. All they need are a few people to infiltrate an area and seize a remote property. They pass the children on to the next level of the organization and ship them off to a destination.”
The nun groaned. “You don’t think…”
“As the days pass with no sign of the child or the old nun, it’s a possibility we have to face.” Pagano turned to Sister Angela. “What did you find in Castel Valori?”
“I spent several hours with the nuns at Sacro Cuore della Francesca. They told me about Pia. They didn’t know where she came from and were ashamed of their error of keeping the child there. They greatly admired the team of lawyers that handled the child’s transfer here. I had questions I mentioned to the Castel Valori police.”
“What do you mean, Sister?”
“As you know, the toddler was left at their doorstep. One of the nuns mentioned she heard the bell that someone was at the front door, whereupon she walked out and saw Pia crouched down beside the steps in the rain. I assume Pia was less than meter tall because that’s the average height for a two year old. I didn’t ask the nuns whether or not they thought she was large or small for her age.”
“She was about average height and weight when she was here,” said Sister Carmela. “I imagine they didn’t know that much about young children.”
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