Chianti Classico

by Coralie Hughes Jensen

  “Claiming she probably did sign it the day she left her husband, Carlota told me that the wine would’ve stained the clay on the outside if someone had put the body in there before she checked it. She also explained that the person who hid the body had to know about the pots to do it cleanly. What do we do next?”

  “You did a good job, Sister. But it’s too dangerous for you to help us on the next part of the investigation.”

  Elmo suddenly appeared at the door. “All set for eight tonight.”

  Sister Daniela’s eyes grew large. “Where are we going?”

  “We have a suspected sex ring doing business in Lutrasa.”

  “It’s too dangerous to take Sister Daniela,” said Pagano. “Sister Angela would kill the both of us if we let her come along.”

  “Nonsense,” she said, trying to stand as tall as possible. “I promise I’ll stay out of the way. I’d be able to comfort Pia if we found her.”

  “She’s right. She could come with me,” said Sacco.

  “You must be exhausted,” said Pagano. “You’ve done so much already.”

  “I’m fine. I’ll call my sister and make sure she knows I’ll be late. Maybe I should change into trousers.”

  Pagano looked her straight in the eye. “You won’t need them. You’ll be in the car.”

  The operation involved several cars. One by one they parked along the perimeter of the dirt drive. Pagano and Sacco both sat and waited for everyone else to be in place. Sister Daniela used a flashlight she’d been handed to look at her watch. It was nine-thirty.

  Suddenly Pagano flashed his headlights and began to progress slowly up the bumpy drive. Sacco drove his vehicle close behind. After about half a kilometer, they stopped. Sister Daniela scanned the area ahead with Elmo’s night vision binoculars but couldn’t see anything beyond a sandy hill in front of them.

  “What next?” asked Sister Daniela just as Sacco opened his door to step outside.

  “The chief and I are walking in. You stay in the car.” He put out his hand for the binoculars. “You won’t need those. I will.”

  She handed him the binoculars and watched the two men move off the drive and head over the hill. As soon as they were out of sight, she got out to listen. It was quiet. Too quiet. She grabbed the flashlight from beside the passenger seat and pushed the door until it was almost latched. Then she took off in the direction the two policemen had taken.

  She couldn’t make them out when she got to the top of the hill. But she did see lights. Beams shone through the windows of a little farmhouse, perhaps another two to three hundred meters in front of her. She started down the slope in the direction of the lights when something caught her arm and turned her around. The rays of another flashlight prevented her from seeing who was there.

  “Elmo told you to stay in the car.”

  “I know, Chief, but I figured you might need more help.”

  “We can’t take her back now,” said Sacco.

  “Then you’re responsible for her. If anything happens, it’s your head. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Sacco took Sister Daniela by the arm and dragged her forward, trying to keep up with his boss. After about a hundred steps, the nun removed his arm and followed him. “Keep down,” he said.

  They were close enough now to hear noises from inside the farmhouse. Sacco pointed, indicating the nun should take cover behind a nearby boulder. This time Sister Daniela acquiesced, sensing everyone could hear the thumps in her chest. She peeked around the boulder to watch Pagano approach a window and glance inside while Sacco made his way to another viewpoint.

  The chief retreated to a pile of logs a good ten meters from the house and talked into the walkie talkie clipped to his sweater. The response was almost instantaneous. Sets of several headlights sent beams into the night sky as the patrol cars climbed the hill and then descended.

  Sister Daniela heard the sound of breaking glass and turned in the direction of the house once more. Shots rang out. She covered her ears. Sacco snuck up behind her and pushed her head down as he took aim at the window.

  “The girls,” she said. “Don’t shoot the victims.” More gunshots drowned out her voice. She couldn’t hear his response.

  It was over far too soon. The manpower provided by the police backup team was too much for the two men in the farmhouse. They emerged from the building with their hands over there heads.

  Officers ran inside. Seconds later, they gestured that the house was all clear. Sister Daniela was the first to stand and join them.

  There were only a few girls inside, though the police were trying to uncover doors to a basement or hidden rooms. The two girls she saw were probably fifteen or older. They didn’t show fright or elation that they were being rescued. They must have been drugged.

  “No other rooms,” said Sacco, standing by her side. “There might have already been a pick up some of them because there are two other rooms with empty beds.”

  Sister Daniela looked at him. “Were the other beds warm? Is there evidence that others had been here?”

  “That’s not our job. There’s a team to do that. We’re done here.”

  “What about these girls?”

  “An ambulance is on the way. We have to move the cars out so they can get close enough.” He took her arm.

  “Pia isn’t here,” she said to him.

  “No. I don’t think we’re going to find any evidence that a child’s been here. These were probably street girls. Easy snatches, if you know what I mean.” He tugged on her arm again. “C’mon. We can try to find another ring tomorrow. I’ll drop you off at your sister’s on the way back to Siena.”

  “Do you think we’ll ever find her?”

  “Maybe Sister Angela’s having better luck.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  After lunch, Silvio let off the nun in front of the station. “I could wait and take you to the convent,”

  “No thanks you, Silvio,” she said. “I believe I need to walk. I’d like to meet you here tomorrow afternoon; however, I might only be able to ride side saddle.”

  Silvio laughed. “I’ll be around,” he said. “I’ll be doing odd jobs for the detective sergeant.”

  The nun walked into the station to talk to Turo before she left for the convent. She needed a hot soak in the bath.

  “Hello, Sister. I take it you found what you needed.”

  “I probably could’ve interviewed more people, but the box of evidence was helpful. I must return to the convent and contact people using email.”

  “Do you want me to get Silvio to take you to the convent?”

  “No, I can walk.” Barely, she said to herself. “I’ll be back tomorrow. I’ve more investigating to do.”

  “I’m surprised you’re telling me. I thought after your previous visits you’d want to continue using your stealth approach.”

  “I no longer feel you’re going to run from me if I make an appointment. Tomorrow’s investigation is more local.”

  “Then perhaps you should give me a heads up so I can get you evidence before you arrive.”

  “It’s about the bank robbery.”

  “Same dates?”

  “The same time period as the avalanche. I read there were a few calls about domestic disputes. I didn’t write down the locations so I believe they were here in Castel Valori.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Yes. There was a ten-car pileup on the autostrada near Poppi. I don’t suppose you do the detective work for Poppi too.”

  “Actually that would be the Polizia di Stato, the Polizia Stradale division. They patrol the autostrada and the train system.”

  “Where are they?”

  “There’s an office in Arezzo. I can have Silvio take you.”

  “I’m afraid I’d have trouble traveling that far on the motorbike,” said the nun, squirming. “And finally, there was a hit and run accident in Val d’Alsa. Where’s that?”

  “That’s the ne
xt village just on the edge of town. My team takes care of that village. I think I remember that accident. I’ll see what I can find on that too.

  After requesting a report from Arezzo and various files from Turo, the nun headed outside to talk to Silvio. Silvio handed her a helmet. “Where are we going?” he asked.

  “To the bank.”

  “That’s across the piazza. I can see it from here.”

  Sister Angela smiled. “I know. I thought you might like to see what I do to investigate things instead of only providing transportation.”

  “Yes I’d like that, but why don’t we walk?”

  She handed back the helmet, and the two began their trek across the piazza.

  The bank had just opened after their lunch break. Sister Angela asked to see the manager, who graciously led her to his desk. “Detective Sergeant Turo mentioned that you’d probably want to talk with me about the bank robbery four years ago.

  The nun sat, and Silvio pulled up another chair. “I’m glad he mentioned it,” she said. “I know it’s a long time ago.”

  “I have notes on it. I was required to file papers with several agencies.”

  “Did you catch the culprits?”

  “Yes. Most people inside the bank at the time were witnesses. It was easy identifying the thieves. There were two of them. They wore masks, but several people recognized their voices.”

  “And where are they now?”

  “In jail. They got ten years each.”

  “You’re saying there were two men. What about the driver in the getaway car?”

  “They had motorcycles. There was no third person.”

  “Can you tell me more about the criminals? Were they married? Did they have families?”

  “They were Croatian. I have no idea if they were married. I don’t believe any families showed up at the trial. They’d robbed several other banks in Tuscan villages in the weeks preceding this particular one. A boat was evidently moored in the Adriatic. The police speculated they planned to make the hits and then head over the tiny mountain roads to the coast. They would escape to Croatia in their boat.”

  Sister Angela and Silvio left the bank disappointed.

  “You can see, Silvio, that we must ask a lot of questions to proceed.”

  “It’s the same at the station.”

  “Speaking of the station, I plan to go back and look at all the files Turo’s found for me.” She started to walk away.

  Silvio hesitated and then caught up with her. “I think we should do that together, Sister. Two people can go through the files faster than one, don’t you think?”

  Sister Daniela drove the truck into Siena and parked it at the terminal. Walking inside, she glanced around and then headed to the ticket booth.

  “I’d like to speak with a manager,” she said. “Where are the managers?”

  “Along the far wall at the top of the escalator.”

  Sister Daniela turned and started to walk away.

  The woman behind the counter yelled. “You’ll need an appointment, Sister. They won’t see you without an appointment.”

  Sister Daniela heard her but kept walking. At the top of the escalator, she noted the doors on the far wall. She walked toward one door that stood ajar but, at the last second, veered toward the closed one. The second door sported a sign reading No Entry, but she reached for the knob anyway. It opened. A man, sitting behind the desk, looked up just as she closed the door behind her.

  The manager was middle-aged. What hair he had left was graying. He stood when he saw that the young woman was wearing a habit. “Excuse me, Sister, but you’ve come in the wrong door. You need to talk with my receptionist in the next office.”

  “But this is very important,” she said. “I’m working with the chief investigator concerning the problem on the tracks the other night.”

  “I didn’t know they’d contacted the team in Roma. After all, there were no bombs.”

  “No, but the person I work for doesn’t believe it’s nothing. Why would anyone try to block that train?” She watched his eyes look down at her habit. “I’m just a gopher,” the nun confessed. “In fact, I’m a temp. The chief investigator needed someone who could do the job fast. I used to do investigation work before giving myself to God—so here I am.”

  “Your boss must know about the wine.”

  “Wine? What do you mean?”

  “A shipment of wine was removed from the train when it stopped.”

  “I take it that’s in your report.”

  “Well—uh—this is the first I’ve heard about an official investigation.”

  “I can come back,” she said, hearing a chair scrape the floor in the receptionist’s room next door. “By the way, why was there wine on the train?”

  “Because the shipment was supposed to leave the Siena-Ampugnano Airport that night. You should have known about it. No investigator’s office would hold onto you if you didn’t understand the crime.”

  “I know. I’m so glad you told me,” she started to turn back to the door. “Isn’t that odd? Do you often transport wine by train and then by plane?” She put her hand on the knob, ready to open the door.

  “Yes, it’s a regular shipment.”

  “By whom? Which winery are we talking about?”

  “Several of them do that. I don’t know which one was being transported that night.”

  The door to the next office began to open. Then the phone rang, and the receptionist stepped back to answer it.

  “You don’t know. I can’t get this straight in my mind. Wineries send wine by train here, and then a truck or something takes the wine to the airport. A plane then takes the wine to a destination.”

  “Yes.”

  “It can’t be the Classico region here because that wouldn’t need a train. Where do these shipments come from?”

  “This particular shipment—the one that disappeared—came from the Rufina region.”

  Sister Daniela heard the phone in the next office click, and the chair scraped the floor again. “Thank you for your help. You’ve actually saved my temp job. I’ll come back tomorrow and pick up that report. I’ll tell my boss that you’re cooperating in spite of the obvious lack of communication between our departments.”

  Just as the door to the next office opened to reveal the receptionist, the nun slipped out the one to the terminal and closed it behind her. She stepped onto the escalator before crossing herself and asking for forgiveness for her lies.

  Sister Angela and Silvio returned to the station. Detective Sergeant Turo had left boxes on a desk near the front counter, and the nun eagerly opened the first one.

  “This is my desk,” said Silvio. “Please have a seat. I’ll go out and get us drinks. I’m starving, aren’t you?”

  But the nun didn’t answer. She was already reading reports about the cases that occurred near Castel Valori around the time of Pia’s appearance at the convent.

  When Silvio returned with the food, he found sheets scattered over the surface of his desk and the two desks on each side. “Have you found something?”

  “I’m trying to separate them. There are a number of parking tickets and moving violations among them. I’m trying to weed out offenses that probably wouldn’t impact how the child ended up at the convent.”

  “You mentioned that there were domestic disputes in town.”

  “Yes. I have these over here. And then there was the accident I read about. I have all the reports for that on this side. I suggest we eat first. Then we can go to the addresses with the domestic disputes.”

  Silvio handed her a sandwich and napkin. “I thought you’d like a roast beef with olives.”

  “Come to think of it, I’m starving,” she said, tearing open the paper wrap. “Did you get any chips with this?”

  “Yes.” he said, offering her a bag. “I also have some pickles if you want one of those. And I have some soda for you.”

  The nun inhaled the smell of the sandwich as Silvio handed her
a pickle.

  Silvio took a large bite out but then put his sandwich down on a napkin. “The car accident sounds interesting.”

  “The hit and run?” she asked, dropping a straw into her soda can. “That does sound interesting, but from what I gather, there are few details. Someone called in a crash. We can visit the woman who called. By the time the police got to the scene, the car was against a tree and the driver, still inside, was dead. The woman was apparently alone. No one saw the vehicle that hit her, and there’s a question about how it managed to hit the car on the rear fender on the passenger side.”

  “I take it we don’t have the woman’s car to examine.”

  There was a pause as both sleuths took bites of their sandwiches. The nun then wiped her hands. “We do have pretty good snapshots here,” she said handing him the photos.

  “It looks like the other vehicle first hit her from behind, and she lost control and hit the tree.”

  The nun put down her bag of chips and grabbed the pictures back from Silvio. She examined them through Silvio’s descriptions. “The suspect’s car would have to be going pretty fast to move the vehicles into a tree.”

  “Both cars would’ve been going fast, although the road’s dirt. It would’ve been easier for her car to slide down the embankment.”

  “That makes this not a hit and run accident, but a homicide. From what direction was she coming? There’s a note that she was heading away from Castel Valori.”

  “And there would’ve had to be two sounds if she was facing the wrong way,” said Silvio.

  “I don’t see that in any of the reports. We’ll have to revisit the witness who called it in. But if the suspect hit the victim’s car from behind and then from the side, the fatal blow to the driver, wouldn’t that have harmed his car too? I’m surprised he got away.”

  “Check the evidence from the tire tracks,” said Silvio. “What kind of vehicle was it?”

  The nun wiped her hands again and then leafed through the reports. “It was a pickup. This should’ve been investigated further.”

  “Who was the victim?”

  “No purse or wallet on her. The killer must have stopped the pickup and retrieved her ID.” Sister Angela tapped her finger. “And no other evidence in the car.”