Return to Umbria by David Wagner (13 ebook reader txt) 📗

At the top of the next page was another photo of Rhonda. She stood next to a bearded male who looked vaguely familiar to LoGuercio. Her arm was entwined in his and they both smiled at the camera.

“Who’s that?”

“He was the pottery instructor, Crivelli. He had just been hired.”

LoGuercio looked closer at the photo, recalling that Crivelli denied having any social contact with the students. One photo couldn’t prove him wrong, but it was curious nonetheless.

She tapped on the photo. “Crivelli is still in Orvieto, I think. You should talk to him. The only other I can think of from that time would be Bianca.” Her finger was now over another picture, a group shot. Bianca Cappello and Rhonda stood together in the back row. “But I think she moved to Milan.”

“She’s back in Orvieto, Signora. Runs a real estate business. I spoke with her yesterday.”

“Yes. Yes of course. Now I remember. It’s hard to keep track of people if they don’t come by to see me.” She closed the album and placed it carefully on the table. “You’ll come back and tell me when you’ve solved the case, won’t you, Inspector?”

“Of course, Signora.” He took out a card and put it in her hand. “But if you remember anything else, please call me. Even minor details can be helpful.” He stood up.

She held the card between her thin fingers. “Of course I will.”

LoGuercio bent down to shake her hand and thank her for her help. She watched him as he walked to the double doors and out into the reception area. Signora Vecchi’s friend, deep in conversation with her son, had never noticed the policeman.

***

It was still early afternoon when Rick started to walk across Orvieto to the police station. He’d left Betta at the hotel with her book and received her blessing for his return to the murder case if he promised to stay away from terra cotta pots. Between his morning runs and walking to the interviews with LoGuercio, he was starting to feel like he knew his way around town, at least the main arteries. He found himself on the street he had walked with LoGuercio the previous day, recognizing the shoe store he had perused.

He was mulling over his suspicions about Gina and Francine when a man and woman rushed out of a store and walked toward him, arm in arm. Bianca Cappello and Livio Morgante. She looked up and noticed Rick, a shocked expression on her face. Morgante saw him and smiled.

“Riccardo, I think you’ve met Bianca Cappello?”

“I have,” Rick answered. She nodded, but said nothing.

“Are you feeling better today, Riccardo?” Morgante turned to Bianca. “I spoke with Inspector LoGuercio this morning and found that he and Riccardo were called to the villa where the murdered woman was staying. Possible break-in. But they didn’t find anyone, apparently.”

“You’re well informed,” said Rick, not disguising his annoyance. “I didn’t realize that you two were friends.”

“It’s no secret,” said Morgante, squeezing her hand.

She smiled at the pharmacist, but to Rick the smile seemed forced. Or nervous. If their relationship was not a secret, what was her problem? Likely she didn’t want to be reminded of the death of her old friend, and Rick was that reminder. If Morgante and Cappello were in a relationship, which was obviously the case, they must have shared their information about Rhonda’s murder. Had Bianca not leveled with Morgante about how well she knew the victim, since that would make her a suspect?

Finally Bianca spoke. “The owners of two properties outside town want to hire me to rent out and manage their villas, so I need to do an inspection.” She had assumed the tone of a businesswoman, though it didn’t match the flamboyant way she was dressed. “Livio has agreed to go along for the ride.”

“She promised to buy me dinner at a wonderful little trattoria near the villas. It was an offer I couldn’t refuse.” He patted her hand. “And have you and Betta been seeing the sights today?”

“We drove to Todi this morning and had lunch.”

Morgante appeared stunned, but Rick realized it was for dramatic effect.

“Todi?” He swept out his hand. “With Orvieto at your disposal? I’m shocked. Well, tomorrow you will see our jewel. We are still confirmed for tomorrow morning at the cathedral, aren’t we?” He turned his head to Cappello. “Bianca, I invited Riccardo and his friend to join us at the tour tomorrow morning. Since he’s been so helpful to the police, I don’t think the mayor will mind that I invited him, do you?”

“He’ll only be annoyed that he didn’t think to invite Riccardo himself,” she answered.

“Betta and I are looking forward to it,” said Rick. “I must not keep you, and Inspector LoGuercio is waiting for me. Nice to see you both. Enjoy your dinner.”

They exchanged goodbyes and went in different directions. Rick had mentioned his appointment with LoGuercio to see what Bianca’s reaction would be, but she betrayed nothing. The nervousness, or perhaps surprise, that she’d shown at first had been replaced by a studied calm. He put it out of his mind and continued on his way to the police station.

It was getting close to the hour when offices were closing, and it appeared that some workers were already heading for home. They joined students hoping to hook up with friends, pensioners out for a stroll following their afternoon nap, and wives making last-minute purchases for the evening meal. It was one of Rick’s favorite times to walk the streets of an Italian city, when they were most full of life and movement. He passed the window of a salumaio, which was as inviting as the one he’d seen in Todi, though without any suckling pig. The place of honor in this shop was a basket almost overflowing with freshly made cheese tortellini. As he watched, a hand inside a white jacket sleeve reached down and scooped some of them into a small box. Rick wondered if they would be served