“Significant new information,” Serafina said.
Rosa agreed.
Serafina yawned, paged through her notebook. “A few of the women mentioned salvation when I talked to them yesterday. According to Rosalia, Gemma told her, ‘I can no longer be your friend because you are not saved.’”
“That explains the fight they had shortly before I found Gemma’s body. Slamming doors, crying, the two of them not speaking.”
“Quite hurt, Rosalia,” Serafina said.
Rosa’s eyes were like transparent marbles as she considered.
The two women were silent while they swayed with the train.
Serafina said, “I wonder if it was this ‘permanent salvation’ that Bella’s father talked about. Did Gemma find the same monk? Is he the killer?” She turned a few pages, then quoted Baldassare talking about his daughter, ‘She thought of everything, that one, everything. She even had a scheme for salvation. So clever, my daughter.’
“And don’t forget the rosary in her reticule,” Serafina said. “That reminds me, now that we’ve found Carmela, I’d like to borrow two of your guards. I want them to search the shore with me. There might be other clues.”
“Colonna said they searched. Found nothing.”
Serafina sent Rosa a withering look. “They found nothing, but not because they searched.” She glanced out the window, not at anything in particular. Anyway, the scenery was a blur by this time. “Doubtless it’s this monk who convinced them they must pay for a unique type of salvation. And Nelli paid for something, too.”
“Nelli?” Rosa asked.
“Don’t tell me you don’t remember Formusa’s account of Nelli’s secret-how she kept her coins with the cook until she needed them? Scooped them up the night she disappeared?”
“Of course I remember. You’re the one who almost forgot to tell me Formusa’s tale. I told you, these murders are all about lucre.”
“We don’t know about Gemma’s wish for salvation, only that she was going someplace with someone whom she called her uncle,” Serafina said.
“Arcangelo’s wintry-clothed man.”
“Yes. The monk,” they said in unison.
“That monster. Duping the weak out of their hard-earned coins,” Serafina said.
“What about me? My coins?” Rosa asked.
“We all long for salvation, but it’s given to us at birth or baptism or…confession, one of those,” Serafina said.
Tessa stirred in her sleep, her head now in Renata’s lap.
Serafina said, “I think Scarpo, Arcangelo, Tessa, all saw the killer. Similar to the begging monk I saw, but perhaps he was a real one. Hard to tell.”
“Stop the blabbering. Too many words.”
They stopped talking. Serafina might have closed her eyes. She rolled with the motion of the clacking wheels. Then she said, “And I think that the three women were lured by a man disguised as a monk, duped into following him by his promise of salvation.”
“Wonder how much they paid him?” Rosa asked.
They let the train rock them back and forth.
“What about Falco?” the madam asked.
Serafina looked down at her hands. She felt her face redden. “Falco, I don’t trust. Asked him where he was on the night Bella was killed. Claims he doesn’t remember.”
“Sorry I am that I did not see,” the madam said, in a rare moment of insight.
“See what?” Serafina asked.
“Falco. He had special privilege, you know. Came and went as he pleased. A charmer. No more charmers in my house,” the madam said.
Serafina patted her knee. “We all see what we want to see. But I’ll need to send Arcangelo and Beppe tomorrow for evidence of where Falco was, if he can produce it.”
“Should give him enough time to concoct something,” Rosa said.
Serafina shifted in her seat. “We must keep half an eye on him. He gains the most by Bella’s death.”
Rosa sat up. “Don’t forget he gained from Gemma’s and Nelli’s, too. I tell you, at the root is lucre.”
“How so?”
“Perhaps he schemes to take the house from me.”
Serafina stared out the window.
Rosa got up and stretched. Tessa and Renata slept.
The train plowed through the late dusk. Serafina examined her watch pin. “We arrive in Oltramari soon.”
Renata rubbed her eyes and sat up. “Caru Signura,” she began.
Rosa’s eyes narrowed.
Renata persisted. “Please let Tessa stay with us tonight. We’ll drive her back tomorrow afternoon-”
“Out of the question. Never!” the madam interrupted. “Tessa stays with me.”
Hearing her name, Tessa sat up.
“But I want to show her how I make calamaru, one of my specialties. A cook must take great care in its preparation, and I’ll show Tessa all of my tricks. After supper, she can play with Maria and Totò.”
Rosa shook her head. But Serafina, knowing the madam, sensed a slower shake of her black curls.
“Please!” Tessa, Serafina, and Renata said in unison.
Rosa wagged her finger. “You’ve rehearsed this play, the three of you, behind my back.”
“No,” Tessa said.
It was the first time Serafina heard Tessa say ‘no’ to Rosa. “But this is your busy evening. Tessa will be left alone.”
“If you think you can wiggle Tessa out from under my nose-”
“Of course not. Your daughter needs you. But she also needs to be with children.”
“Clever of you to know what Tessa needs, when you don’t know how to keep your own daughter at-”
“Enough!” Serafina said, and looked away. Like a dog and bone, the madam.
They were silent, until Tessa saw her home town approaching. “Our piazza!” she shouted. Jumping up and down, she looked from one woman to the other.
Rosa bent to whisper in her ear. Tessa smiled. “This once Tessa stays with you. Bring her home tomorrow afternoon.”
• • •
In the west, the sky was lapis lazuli, the clouds, rimmed in gold. The women and Tessa walked through the gardens in front of the station and made their way to a stand, hoping to find a cab to take them home. Here and there gas lamps glowed in the gathering dusk. Their smell mingled with the richness of cooling soil.
Traffic was brisk this evening on the roads circling the station. Carts, carriages and traps moved in all directions, the din of their wheels on the cobblestones like the rumble of thunder. Carabinieri stood on platforms blowing ineffective whistles at the snarl. Peasants rode bareback. Large baskets hung on either side of their beasts. One mule sat in the middle of the road and refused to budge. Hat in hand, the driver pleaded with the animal.
Serafina had to walk fast to keep up with Rosa. Renata and Tessa followed behind.
“Oh, the air, how sweet, almost like spring. I can smell the pungent scent of loam,” Serafina said, her eyes sweeping the traffic to find an empty cab.
“Not loam. Sand and rocks, our soil,” Rosa said.
“Our house has rich earth. My ancestors brought it with them from the fields to make fertile gardens. The city did the same when they built the station. Giorgio told me.”
“Such fantasy! All I smell is the foulness of the train on me, like a thousand mules passing wind. I feel the grit of the day.” Rosa buried her nose in one of her sleeves and made a face.
Tessa skipped to keep up, holding Renata’s hand.
“Impossible. You can’t agree with me, can you? You haven’t changed. You were the same as a child. Always seeing the bleak, never the poetic. And I don’t make that up-I was there. I remember helping my mother deliver difficult babies, and, afterward, you, you stubborn child, you refused to listen to my joyful words of life and birth. When will you grow up?”
Rosa laughed. “Built up my business, didn’t I, but not by thinking deep thoughts. And I must bathe before our guests arrive. How do the wives of the conductors stand them? The one in our car smelled like stale cod. But the fine weather and the end of the festa, good for the trade. I feel a full house coming on tonight.”