The sun was up when they arrived at a field full of wagons and cages and roaring beasts. A round man greeted them. Teo looked at all the circus performers, but the man shoved him inside a wagon and told him to sit and said he wouldn’t be hurt. “Not unless you try to escape. I need you to make shoes, like the shoes your father once made for me.”
A Twisted Mustache
Thursday afternoon, October 29, 1868
Serafina hated being a snoop. However, for the sake of the baroness-to say nothing of her family and the citizens of her town-she wanted Cecco’s killer brought to justice. She doubted that would happen with Colonna as investigator, so she’d have to step in.
Despite the commissioner requesting her expertise whenever needed, Colonna still thought of her as an outsider. Worse, he thought of her as a woman. She hated the way he winked at her as if she were still a schoolgirl playing at a game of hunt the slipper. With her daughter’s ability to get to the heart of things, Carmela told her not to let Colonna’s jealousy bother her too much, but Serafina couldn’t help it. After all, why should that no-nothing, venal inspector bask in the glory of a title and a large salary while she, Serafina, was paid a pittance and did most of the difficult work of detecting for him?
Dr. Loffredo’s absence meant that Serafina would have to speak with the assistant medical examiner and discover for herself just how Cecco was killed. As she made her way to the morgue, Serafina burrowed into her cape, bending into the wind, preoccupied with Mother Concetta’s remarks. She hurried past mules pulling carts, brushed a straggler running to school, heard the bells chiming the hour. When she opened the door, she smelled the cloying stench of death.
“What can I do for you?” a guard asked.
“I’m here to see the assistant medical examiner. Is he available?”
The guard escorted her to a basement office, and in a few minutes, Loffredo’s assistant entered.
Serafina, who had been holding a linen to her nose and mouth, cleared her throat. “Forgive me, Doctor. I know my visit is highly irregular, but I’d like to ask you about the Lanza case.”
“Not at all, I’ll be glad to tell you as much as I can. You know how we love working with you.” The doctor paused. “I wish I could say the same about some others.” He winked, pointing to the ceiling.
“Too kind. I’ve just come from Villa Lanza where the baroness, my client who is soon to give birth, is distraught. She is anxious to hear the cause and manner of her butler’s death. I wondered if there was anything you could tell me. Have you been able to examine the body?”
“No autopsy yet, but I was called to the scene by Inspector Colonna. Have you had a chance to speak with him?”
“Not yet.”
“From the looks of it, the butler was killed by a single shot to the heart. Not much blood. The gun was fired by a professional.”
“How so?”
“As I told the inspector-”
“Did I hear my name?” Colonna asked, pushing into the office on splayed feet. He stroked his mustache. “Fina, my dear, what a surprise!”
Serafina swallowed. “We were just speaking of you.”
Colonna looked at the doctor. “But go on, please. Don’t let me stop you.”
“The gun which, I understand, has not yet been found, must have been a revolver with a fairly short barrel. And this killer hit the victim in just the right spot, resulting in instant death and very little loss of blood.”
Colonna eyes twinkled. “Almost solved, my dear, so don’t worry your pretty head.”
“Would you like to hear what I’ve learned?” Serafina asked.
He gave her a self-indulgent smile and shook his head.
“So you’ve retrieved the gun? Examined the locks in the house? Found the jewels? Taken the killer into custody? Accepted his signed confession?”
Colonna grinned. “Not quite. But it’s a case of theft, pure and simple. All the baroness’s jewels are missing.”
“All? That’s not what I understand.”
He twisted one end of his mustache. “Quite a substantial amount. The butler got in the way. All we need to do is find the thief.”
“Was theft the only motive? You’ve ruled out the baron? Any other enemies the butler might have had?”
“Decidedly. No Sicilian baron murders, you ought to know that. And butlers have no enemies-they are loved by everyone. He will be mourned.”
Ridiculous jackanapes, he won’t even try to solve this case. Already spending the reward the baron will pay. Or worse: she stared at him as the truth dawned. “You still have the pearls, the emerald necklace, the diamonds-a small price for your silence?”
Colonna’s face reddened. He opened his mouth to say something when Serafina heard running feet.
Carmela burst inside. “Teo’s missing!”
Golden Orb
Serafina mulled over recent events in her study on the third floor, once her mother’s room. It stood opposite the nursery and the garret she’d made into a bedroom for Teo.
They’d looked everywhere for Teo, in the cellar of the apothecary shop, in the schoolyard, the library, down by the harbor where he loved to watch the fishermen, even in his old home, now empty and waiting for new owners. No Teo. Everyone had joined in the search, Carmela, Vicenzu, even Rosa. Time, she knew, was running out, and soon she’d have to face the fact that perhaps he had gone for good.
The children had returned from school. In a few hours, they’d be leaving for the circus.
Earlier, when she’d asked Maria about her words with Teo in the parlor, the child mumbled something, then said, “He came into my parlor after supper last night-”
“What do you mean ‘my parlor’?”
“Where I practice. He’s not allowed in there.”
“Whose rule is that?”
Maria shoved her glasses up to the bridge of her nose and said no more, but her eyes were filling with water.
Of all her children, Maria was the most puzzling, not at all like her siblings. She had adult responses to most situations and was concerned only with her piano. Seemingly unaware of her talent, she was kind, humble, gracious-or was Serafina blind? As her daughter stood before her, Serafina realized that she could cajole or insist, but in the end, if Maria didn’t want to do what her mother suggested, Serafina had little recourse. She could solve most murders and already knew who had killed Cecco and why and where to find him. But her children? They were difficult. She felt helpless.
Maria broke the silence. “Teo’s weird. Everyone says so. Look at him-he’s not like us. Maybe the specter ate him.”
“Nonsense! There is no specter, and I’m disappointed. I thought you were able to see what other children could not see. Teo might be different, but we’re all different. Each of us is an enigma. How do you expect to make music if you don’t celebrate the mystery of others?”
Her reverie faded. Serafina stopped her pacing and sat in her mother’s favorite chair, wondering how she could have been a better example for her children. Was her little liaison with Dr. Loffredo somehow responsible for their willfulness? She pushed away the thought.
Suddenly there was the smell of lavender and orange peel, a puff of smoke and Maddalena, the ghost of her mother, appeared, looking fresh and full of youth and life. She wore her green velvet gown and wrinkled her nose.
“You’re sitting in my chair!”
“Honestly, Mama, sit on the bed if you must. Unless you are prepared to help, I don’t have time for this, not this evening. We’re going to the circus, and I’ve got to catch a killer!” Serafina rose and sat on the bed as her mother maneuvered her way into her chair.
“Send for Badali. You’ll need him,” her mother said.
“Is that all you’ve got to say? You’re worse than Mother Concetta.”
“Don’t speak ill of my friend! I’m loyal, which is more than I can say about Maria. I’ll see what I can do about her, but I can’t promise. Oh, and don’t forget to talk to the wet nurse.”