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together the night before the murder.”

“An interesting scenario,” Rick said, “planning murder over dinner.”

“And as possible, or unlikely, as any of the others we have come up with,” Luca said. “There’s really nothing else to make him a suspect, except for his lack of alibi.”

“He told us something else that is a coincidence, but a weird one,” Rick said. “Taylor told him the first sexual encounter between him and Gina Cortese took place the first summer he came here, in the very field where he was murdered. Taylor apparently liked to brag about his conquests.”

That got the policeman’s attention. “I am beginning to like our victim less and less. But I have to wonder: Who else knew about that tryst in the field?” The three of them pondered in silence until Rick spoke.

“Something else, Luca. Flavio thinks Lotti bought his apartments from Melograno.”

Luca was about to take a drink of the wine, but now lowered the glass back to the table. “From Melograno? Is that significant?”

“I wondered the same thing, but Flavio thinks it’s not,” said Rick. “He’s the most prominent real estate dealer in Campiglio, it would be logical for Lotti to have used him. So it would mean about as much as Melograno having bought a bear carved by Mayor Grandi.”

“Ah, our delightful Mayor Grandi.” Luca seemed about to comment on the mayor when he stopped in mid-thought. A grin split his face. “By the way, Flavio, I trust you know who is Grandi’s opponent in this election?” Flavio nodded.

Rick looked from one face to the other. “Now what?”

“Well, Rick,” said Flavio, “that other candidate would be Mitzi Muller, who is known to everyone in Campiglio as Zia Mitzi. Nobody gives her much of a chance to unseat Grandi.”

“From the way he’s campaigning,” said Luca, “it appears that Grandi’s not taking any chances. And, Flavio, what does Aunt Mitzi do around here that makes her known to everyone?” Rick knew from the ever-present grin that Luca knew the answer to his question.

“She runs the best pastry shop in town. That may be why she isn’t given much of a chance of winning. Nobody wants her to be elected, for fear she’d spend less time baking.”

From Luca’s expression one might have thought he’d pulled a rabbit from a hat.

“Wait a minute, Flavio,” said Rick. “Is her shop right on the main street, across from Bruno’s ski shop?”

“Aha, so you’ve been there and didn’t tell me. I would have asked you to bring back some of her almond cookies. Best cookies in the Dolomites.”

“Her mille foglie was pretty good. You can still see traces of it on Luca’s jacket lapel.”

Luca instinctively glanced down at his jacket and laughed. “Well, I think such a prominent citizen of Campiglio should be questioned about the case. Riccardo, we will have to make a return visit to her establishment. And we won’t forget the almond cookies.” Luca held up a finger. “But, Zia Mitzi does not seem like the kind of person who would use violence to win the mayorship.” His comment was greeted by blank looks from the other two men at the table. “I’m talking about the attack last night. Remember that the victim worked for Grandi’s campaign.”

Rick nodded. “One theory, Flavio, is that the attack on Pittini had something to do with his work for Grandi.”

“When you told me about the attack, Rick, you failed to mention that.”

“I suppose I was too concerned that I could have been the target.”

“You’re forgiven.” Flavio turned to the policeman. “But an attack on the street over who should be mayor of Campiglio? That doesn’t sound like my beloved hometown.”

Luca nodded. “That was exactly the mayor’s initial reaction today when I broached the possibility, Flavio. And if anyone suspected Mitzi of such activities, or suspected someone on her campaign, Grandi would be the one to know.”

“By the way, Luca,” Rick said, “what’s the condition of Pittini?”

“He still hasn’t regained consciousness. His wife remains at his side, and a policeman is on call, ready to get any kind of information out of him if he comes to. Even though the attack was from behind, he may well know who it was. Or suspect someone.” The policeman watched the waitress take away his empty plate.

Rick watched his own plate disappear. “The mention of Mitzi reminds me of her cookies, which logically brings us to the issue of dolci to finish off this wonderful meal.” He pushed the chair back slightly from the table. “I, for one, will skip the sweets and have some fruit. What about you, Flavio? Flavio?” Rick turned to follow his friends eyes, and saw that Lori Shafer, still dressed in her working pantsuit, had taken her place at a table in one corner of the room. “Aha. The lovely Ms. Shafer returns from her consular duties. She was working late.”

Flavio turned back to his tablemates. “I can’t let her dine alone, my friends, that would be rude.”

“So that is the American diplomat,” said Luca. “Of course, Flavio, do the needful. The waitress will find you for your dessert and coffee order.” Flavio rose from their table and walked across the room, saying a quick hello to the Smiths on the way. The Americans were just finishing their involtini con asparagi. Rick and Luca watched as Flavio greeted Lori and took the chair across from her, flashing a quick grin back at their table as he sat. She looked up and waved at Rick.

“I think you are correct about needing something sweet, Riccardo. With our coffee. Just to clear the palate, of course.”

“Of course, Luca. They have an excellent panna cotta, I had it a few nights ago.”

“Small portion?”

“Tiny.”

“Then that’s what I’ll have.” Luca got the attention of the waitress and ordered the dessert. Rick asked for the frutta fresca. “Riccardo,” the policeman continued, “there is someone else we should interview, besides the other mayoral candidate.”

He’s back to using “we” again, Rick thought. “And who would that be?”

“Bruno Bauer, of the hat emporium. You

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