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

“Were the fingerprints a man’s or woman’s?”

The policeman shook his head and blew some smoke toward the ceiling. “There’s no way to know. Age, they can tell to a certain extent, but gender, no. Prints will often show if the person works with their hands, like a carpenter, through little cuts and scars, though the tiny nicks tend to disappear over time.”

“No scars on these prints.”

“Precisely. So nobody is ruled in or ruled out until we get them in here to get printed.”

Rick digested his Fingerprints 101 lesson. “What about the two American women? They’ll have to come in as well. I can call them.”

“That would be helpful. But don’t tell them we need their fingerprints. I’m telling everyone that we need them in here to sign a formal statement.”

Rick nodded. “In case someone figures it out that a print was found on the body and they then decided to disappear.”

“Exactly.” LoGuercio, realizing how messy his desk appeared, shuffled some of the papers into neater piles. “You said you saw the Americans today?”

“One of them, the daughter. Signora Linwood was also in Todi, but was trying to recover from her hangover. I didn’t see her.” Rick recounted the conversation with Gina.

“Interesting,” said LoGuercio when Rick was done. “It seems that both the daughter and Signora Linwood could be beneficiaries of the estate of our victim. Indeed, very interesting. Linwood tells you yesterday that she thinks the daughter and mother had a bad relationship and now today the daughter says that her mother had an affair with her friend’s future husband. It appears that each one is trying to implicate the other.” He rubbed his chin in thought. “Are you sure these two women aren’t Italian?”

“Not that I know of, Paolo. In other suspect news, I also saw Signora Cappello, on the way here just now. She was with Morgante and they were heading off for a tryst in the campagna.”

“It couldn’t have been much of a tryst if they told you about it. And I checked around; their relationship is not a big secret. Were they really going out to the countryside?”

Rick nodded. “She is checking on a couple properties, and dragged him along with the promise of an intimate dinner under a leafy pergola somewhere nearby. I may be embellishing it a bit. I told them I was coming here, and didn’t get a reaction.”

LoGuercio again got up from his chair, and walked to the window. The backyard was now completely in shade. “Something occurs to me, Riccardo. Could it be that Morgante’s interest in the case is not just based on his concern for local tourism? Perhaps he’s worried that his lady friend is a suspect, and is probing to find out if we’re getting on her trail.” He turned to Rick. “If you hadn’t mentioned seeing them it wouldn’t have come to mind.”

“The other possibility is that she put him up to it, asking him to use his influence to find out how much progress you’re making.”

The inspector wiggled his index finger. “No, that doesn’t work, because he came to the station to ask about the case before we told her the victim was her old friend.”

“Unless she knew already, and only acted surprised.”

LoGuercio thought about that one for a few moments. “They could both be in on it, she planning it and he doing the dirty work.” He rubbed his eyes. “Let’s get back to reality.”

“Yes, let’s. How did your meeting go with Signora Vecchi? Did she remember anything about Rhonda?”

LoGuercio returned to his chair, pulled out a paper, and then put it back into place. “I was surprised to find she was very coherent, and remembered quite a bit. Our victim made an impression back then, so the signora was able to give me a good sense of what she was like. Not very helpful in finding our murderer, but good for building a picture of Rhonda Van Fleet. And speaking of pictures, she had a photo album and showed me photographs from that time. There was one of interest, Rhonda Davis arm in arm with a bearded Crivelli.”

Rick leaned forward. “Really? That is interesting. Do you remember what he told us?”

“Exactly my reaction. That he didn’t socialize with the students. One photograph doesn’t really prove anything, but it got me more curious about Crivelli.”

He got up and leaned over his desk, retrieving a file at the far corner. After sitting back down he opened it and thumbed through the papers inside, finding the one he wanted. “Crivelli was politically active enough in the late seventies to have gotten himself into the records of the police, but back then we were paranoid about such things, apparently. Bombs going off around the country, kidnappings, that sort of thing, and most of the time it was politically motivated.”

“Was he ever picked up?”

“There was a protest demonstration in the north that he was involved in that turned violent and he was arrested, but immediately released. Pretty standard for those years, I understand. Unfortunately they couldn’t put everyone in jail, and many of the protesters came from prominent families. What I find fascinating is that our anti-capitalist of those years has become a wealthy businessman and prominent member of the community, dining regularly with the mayor. Fascinating, but not surprising.”

Rick recalled a favorite quote from Shakespeare: “youth’s a stuff will not endure.” The bard was likely talking about just getting old, but somehow it fit in Crivelli’s case. He was thinking how to translate it for LoGuercio when his cell phone rang.

“Montoya.” He listened and looked at LoGuercio. “Yes, Francine…I’m with him now…I will tell him, but I’m not sure—wait on the line, I’ll tell him now.” He took the phone from his ear. “Signora Linwood says you can take the guard off the villa. They feel safe enough, and perhaps he can be put to better use. To solve the crime.”

LoGuercio grunted. “She’s telling me how to run my operation?” He flicked