Return to Umbria David Wagner (english novels for students TXT) 📖

back in Orvieto and all, but seemed a bit distracted. We walked around and saw other things: churches, old buildings, some other beautiful plazas. And shops—we went into a lot of stores. She was very interested in the ceramics shops, since that’s what she makes—I mean, made—back home. And what she studied when she was here. There were a lot of shops selling ceramics.”

“And then?”

“We had dinner. It was early by Italian standards but we were hungry and Gina was starting to fade. We went to some place that was in a basement, brick ceilings and floors. I forget the name but Rhonda said it has something to do with rope, or rope makers. We were the first ones in the restaurant, but by the time we left it was about half full.”

She held out her hand as if to hold a thought. “Wait, I forgot. She took us to the restaurant but instead of going in, she said she had something to do and would meet us there later. Gina went for a walk, but I went in and ordered a bottle of wine. When Rhonda showed up I didn’t even bother asking her where she’d been. I knew she wouldn’t tell us.”

She looked up when a slight gust blew in from the grassy area around the pool, bringing a few stray leaves with it. The breeze picked up the earthy smell of the geraniums planted in terra cotta pots at the edge of the brick. A few of their red blossoms fluttered down like confetti, joining the leaves in a dance around the patio before the gust vanished and they fell lightly to the ground.

“When we left the restaurant, Rhonda told us she was going to meet a friend and that we could get the bus back to the villa. From the way she said it, there was no question in my mind that she wanted to be alone, so I didn’t even suggest we go with her. She pointed us in the right direction, and I took over from there since Gina is useless with directions. We got back here about nine o’clock, but I don’t wear a watch so I’m not really sure of the time without the usual cues I have at home, like TV programs. We each had a glass of wine and then Gina went to bed. She was completely beat. I had another glass and turned in myself, hoping to sleep through the night, which I did. We were having our coffee this morning when your policeman arrived.”

Rick interpreted, got a question from LoGuercio, and turned back to Francine.

“You said that Rhonda didn’t say who she was going to meet last night. Did she at least say it was the person she ran into in front of the cathedral?”

“She wouldn’t tell us, but it was normal for Rhonda to be secretive. Especially if it involved men. I thought at the time, which is terrible to think of now, that after dinner she was meeting some man. I even thought that she really hadn’t met anyone in the square and she was really going to meet Donato.”

“Donato?”

“He’s the caretaker for the villa. I don’t remember his last name. Some long Italian word.”

LoGuercio frowned and wrote in his notebook when he heard the name.

“So she didn’t even confirm that it was a man she was going to meet?”

“I don’t believe she did, Rick, now that I think about it. I suppose it could have been a woman. It’s just that, knowing Rhonda…” She didn’t finish the sentence.

LoGuercio looked at his notes after hearing the translation. “Most of what she said, Riccardo, confirms what we heard from the daughter. You can tell her now where we found the body. Perhaps that might spark something in her memory, and I want to see her reaction.”

Rick turned to Francine, who had been watching the two men talk. “To answer your earlier question, he is not sure where the murder took place, but the body was found on the road near your bus stop.”

“You mean right down at the end of the driveway? Someone was waiting for her when she got off the bus? It could have been us if the murderer had been there a few hours earlier.” She pulled nervously at a large silver and turquoise ring on her left hand and her eyes darted between the two men. “Are we in danger?”

Rick wanted to answer directly, but decided he should leave it to LoGuercio.

“Tell her we don’t think she has anything to fear. It is almost certain, based on what she and the daughter told us, that this crime is connected to the victim’s previous time in Orvieto. And tell her again we don’t know where the murder actually happened. But if she likes, I can assign a policeman to the villa.”

Rick interpreted, and his words seemed to calm Francine.

“Yes, the inspector is right. It has to be someone she knew before. No need to put a man here whose time would be better spent helping to find the killer.”

“If you change your mind, you can call me and I’ll tell Inspector LoGuercio.”

“Thank you, Rick, I appreciate your concern.” For the first time her lips formed into a tired smile.

Rick got a nod from LoGuercio which he took to mean that the interview was over. They both got to their feet, followed by Francine, and the policeman shook her hand and thanked her in accented English. She said he was welcome, and expressed hope that the investigation would be successful. Rick didn’t bother interpreting.

“So you live in Orvieto,” she said to Rick.

“No, I live in Rome and work as a translator and interpreter. I came up with a friend to do some tourism and got drawn into the investigation.”

“She must be the cute girl you were with on the funicular. If I were her I’d be annoyed that you’d abandoned me.”

She turned and walked to the glass door. Following her inside, they found Gina still