Return to Umbria Page 23
“That ceramics artist who was a suspect?”
“Crivelli,” Rick said.
“Right, Crivelli. From what you said, I can understand why you thought he might be the murderer. The revelation that he had stolen his basic style from a student would have, at the very least, made him the laughing stock of the other potters in Umbria.”
“Interesting that you bring that up, Zio. I spoke to LoGuercio a few days ago, and he mentioned Crivelli. The man sent him a note of congratulations for solving the murder, along with a small ceramic pot. Paolo is using it on his desk as an ashtray.”
“To keep LoGuercio’s lips sealed, it should have been something considerably larger. I doubt your friend will ever have any problems with Crivelli.”
“With what Paolo’s got on him, probably not.”
The empty dishes were picked up by the ever-attentive waiter who stood with them in his hand and posed the expected question.
“Per doppo?”
Rick exchanged glances with his uncle and asked for menus to help them decide. The original good intentions were cast aside and both of them decided to have another course, though one was lighter than the other. Piero, having admired the asparagus on display when they entered, asked for asparagi alla parmigiana. Rick opted instead for the calamari fritti. His justification was that one should always order what a restaurant is known for, and fried food was a specialty at La Campana.
Piero handed over his menu to the waiter and turned to his nephew. “You can give me a few bites of your calamari. You ate well in Orvieto, I trust?”
In Italy, that was always a rhetorical question, but Rick nodded.
“Riccardo, I considered inviting Betta to join us today.”
Rick had been about to take a drink of wine, but now slowly replaced his glass on the table. “Inviting Betta? To our lunch?” He held up his hands. “Don’t get me wrong, I love being around Betta. But Zio, with Betta we wouldn’t be able to—I don’t know—to talk about things like we always do.”
Piero appeared to be enjoying his nephew’s discomfort. “Have we said anything today that you wouldn’t want to share with Betta?”
Now Rick did take that drink of wine. “Well, I can’t think of anything off hand. But having her with us would change the atmosphere.”
“For the better, in my opinion.”
“What about discussing your cases? We couldn’t really do that with an outsider present. Could we?”
Piero gave the question some thought and looked at Rick over his half glasses. “She passed all the tests and background checks to get into the art police. I don’t recall that you, dear Nephew, have ever had a security check by the Italian authorities.” He rubbed his stubby beard as his brows knitted. “Perhaps I’ve been bending regulations by talking about my cases with you.”
Rick held up his hands again, as if warding off an attacker. “You’ve made your point.”
The secondi arrived. Piero’s asparagus was arranged neatly on the plate, a thin crust of browned cheese contrasting with the green of the stems. Lemon slices framed Rick’s stack of crisp calamari. He picked up one slice and his fork, squeezing the juice over the squid.
“Buon appetito,” Piero said as he took his utensils in hand.
“Altrettanto,” Rick replied, still thinking about Betta’s possible inclusion in their periodic lunches. Since they had returned from Orvieto, Rick had attempted to push the incident with Carlo from his memory, but it nagged at him. As much as he tried to convince himself that Betta had meant no harm, and she believed she was doing the right thing, he was still stung that she’d kept it from him. The scar on her forehead had healed, but the tiny pang inside Rick was still there.
“Zio?”
“Si, Riccardo.”
“About Betta.”
“Si.”
“Let me put this as succinctly as I can. If she were to be included in our lunches, it would signal to her that our relationship has gone to a new level. I’m not sure if I’m ready to take that step.”
“We’ve had dinner together. Several times.”
“Not the same.”
Piero patted his lips with the white napkin and smiled. “I think I understand. And of course I will honor your wishes.”
“Thank you, Uncle.” He took a piece of calamari that was small enough not to need cutting and put it in his mouth. The soft inside was the perfect foil, in taste and texture, for the crunchy breading.
“Your friend Inspector LoGuercio appears to be back on the track for advancement.” Piero carefully sliced one of the asparagus spears, but held it on his fork while he continued. “Resolving two murders in a matter of a few days did him no harm. And the fact that one was connected to terrorism, albeit from decades ago, gave him even more notoriety. He may even be left in Orvieto to run the operation rather than send in someone else, since he was so successful there.” He tilted his head at Rick. “Perhaps the new mayor will request it, and our bureaucracy pays close attention to local politics, when it works in our favor.”
Rick had been curious about LoGuercio’s future, but had avoided bringing it up. “It would not surprise me if Morgante has put in a good word for Paolo.”
The commissario finished a bite of his asparagus as well as the wine in his glass. “There were people in the central office who had thought the man may not have been cut out for police work, but after this their view has changed. He’s proved himself.”
Rick rubbed the narrow strip of bandage still covering part of his hand. He looked at Piero before his eyes moved back to the plate in front of him.
“Uncle, are you ready to taste my calamari? As always, they are excellent.”
Author’s Note
As with the previous books in this series, this one takes place in an Italian town which I’ve had the pleasure of visiting many times. Its proximity to Rome made Orvieto an easy place for us to get to on a weekend, either by car or train, both routes running parallel to the Tiber River as it runs south out of Umbria into the region of Lazio. Like almost any town in Italy it has a rich history, in this case stretching back to the Etruscans and flowing through the Roman era to medieval and modern times. Much of Orvieto’s history is evident as one wanders the city’s streets, especially the relationship it had with the papacy, starting with one of the few papal palaces found outside of Rome. It was not by chance that Clement VII took refuge in Orvieto after the sack of Rome in 1527. Equally evident for the casual visitor is the city’s rich artistic tradition, especially in the field of ceramics. I have described the cathedral in some detail on these pages, but there are other churches worth visiting, as well as museums of various kinds. The Pozzo San Patrizio, the wonderful double helix-staired well built as a defense against sieges, should be part of any tourist itinerary to the city.
Nearby Todi, which appears in this book, is another gem of southern Umbria. It is your classic Umbrian hill town, with steep streets that keep both inhabitants and tourists in shape. Todi’s main square is one of the loveliest in Italy, boasting a symmetry and charm that make it look like a theater set. (In fact, one scene in the movie The Agony and The Ecstasy, with “pope” Charleston Heston riding into “Rome,” was filmed there.) The delightful town of Bolsena, on the lake of the same name, finds its way into another chapter of the book. It is one of many small towns, including Bagnoregio just to Orvieto’s south, that make this corner of Umbria so appealing to the visitor who wants to get off the usual tourist track.
Normally in my books I do not mention restaurants by name, even though in many cases the places described are ones where I’ve dined. I made the exception here with Rick and Piero’s lunch at La Campana. This venerable establishment was a favorite eatery of ours the years we lived in Rome and one we always go back to on return visits. It is hidden on a small side street near the river, but well worth searching out if you want to savor genuine Roman dishes
.
My thanks go to readers and friends who clamored for more Rick Montoya. I am also indebted to the many people who helped me with this book. Once again my son provided technical advice, in this case regarding firearms. (Sorry, Max, that I couldn’t include hidden Nazi gold or zombies in the plot. Maybe the next one.) Grazie mille to my good friend Guido Garavoglia, who helped out by researching fingerprinting requirements in Italy. Also in the realm of fingerprints, I am grateful to Jane Benavidez of the Pueblo, Colorado, Police Department for her mini-seminar on the subject. And, as always, my wife, Mary, was the source of ideas, encouragement, and advice. Without her this book could not have been written.
More from this Author
For other books, upcoming author events, or more information please go to:
www.poisonedpenpress.com/David-Wagner
Contact Us
To receive a free catalog of Poisoned Pen Press titles, please provide your name, address and e-mail address through one of the following ways:
Phone: 1-800-421-3976
Facsimile: 1-480-949-1707
Email: info@poisonedpenpress.com
Website: www.poisonedpenpress.com
Poisoned Pen Press
6962 E. First Ave. Ste 103
Scottsdale, AZ 85251