Death in the Dolomites David Wagner (each kindness read aloud .TXT) 📖

“Of course I do.” She stared at the snow while taking the grips of her poles and jumping lightly in preparation for departure, but then looked at Rick. “There was an avalanche yesterday in which two Americans were almost buried. That wouldn’t have been—”

“Cat Taylor and me. How did you hear about it?”

“This is a small town, Riccardo.” She pushed on her poles and slid away toward a group of instructors.

***

Upon reaching the top of the wooden stairs, Rick stamped his feet to bang off the accumulated snow and restart circulation. His cowboy boots were warm, but they were not intended to be worn while standing in snow for long periods. Luca appeared less affected by their trek.

“Well, Riccardo, what did you make of Signora Cortese on this occasion?” They stepped carefully down the stairs to the narrow street.

“She has her alibis, but that’s nothing new. I was surprised when she mentioned seeing Bauer at Mitzi’s bakery the morning of Taylor’s disappearance.”

Luca nodded as they walked. “He should have mentioned it himself. It confirms where he was at that time of the morning. She could be lying to protect him, but if she did, it wasn’t very smart since I can ask Mitzi’s son if he was there that morning.”

“Unless Mitzi is in on it, and…” Rick waved his hand in front of his face as if he were clearing smoke. “No, never mind, that would make it all too complicated. My guess is that Bauer just forgot. And you noticed how she immediately tried to bring her ex-husband in as a suspect?”

“I did. Out of spite rather than anything concrete, I would guess. She just wants to make things difficult for him.”

Rick recalled the seemingly friendly manner between the ex-couple in the bar, but said nothing to Luca.

They reached the main thoroughfare where workers were stringing a banner from light poles on opposite sides of the street. The few cars that were out at this time of day were stopped while ropes holding the canvas sign could be pulled taut and tied into place. Two men teetered at the tops of ladders while struggling with the ropes, and another man stood in the middle of the street directing them to slide it one way or another. When it was properly centered, the man on the ground gave a thumbs-up and waved on the cars.

“I didn’t know that Campiglio was on the World Cup ski circuit,” said Rick, reading the banner.

“Nor did I. Is that something important?”

“It’s the best skiers in the world. It says it will take place on the trails that finish where we were talking with Gina. I trust they won’t allow any children’s lessons in that area when the professionals are hitting the finish line.”

“I wouldn’t think so.” He checked his watch. “I’m afraid we won’t find Signor Melograno in his office now. My sergeant called this morning and was told that the man had various appointments at properties around town. We could run into him, but I’ll try to catch him this afternoon. I may have more questions for him after talking to the garage and seeing his vehicle.”

“All those blood stains in the trunk?”

Luca looked sharply at Rick, and then his mouth formed a grin. “I keep forgetting your American sense of humor. Perhaps by the end of the week I will be used to it.”

“At the end of the week I have to get back to Rome, Luca.”

“Then we must solve this crime by then. But I am sensing a breakthrough. Perhaps it will come when I go to Pinzolo.”

Rick wished he could be so optimistic. “I hope you’re right, Luca. Where are you off to now?”

“I must return to the station for reports and to deal with my public prosecutor. It is not a part of the job that I prefer, but it must be done.”

“I’ll see you at lunch at the hotel.”

“Probably not, I will get something near the station. You will be skiing this afternoon again with the lovely Signora Taylor, my friend?”

“That’s right. But right now I thought I might go by Grandi’s store. I have two nephews with birthdays coming up, and I saw some toys there. It won’t hurt to deal with the mayor on something other than crime.”

“Very true, Riccardo.” He glanced at the sky, which was taking on a menacing gray tone. “Enjoy your skiing. And watch out for renegade snowmobiles.”

***

Rick studied the display in the window of Grandi’s shop. In one corner an ornately carved presepio, complete with a thatched-roof manger, was surrounded by cows and sheep. Each figure, human and animal, had been painted in meticulous detail. The Montoya family nativity scene was from Naples, known for its religious carvings, but whoever carved this one could compete with the best of the Neapolitans. Rick pushed open the door and entered the shop, going from crisp cold air to the rich, warming smell of wood. The toy section was to the left, and he started walking to it when he heard the familiar deep voice of the mayor.

“Signor Montoya. And where is your assistant?”

Rick ignored Grandi’s attempt at humor. “Inspector Albani is working at the station. I am not here regarding the investigation, Signor Grandi, unless there’s something new which you need to pass to the inspector.”

“No, no. I was hoping you brought some news. Can I help you find something?”

“Birthday gifts for my two nephews in America. One turns nine, the other ten.”

“That should be easy. We have a number of toys for that age group.” He led the way to the display of wooden cars and trucks. “We have these, or you might be interested in some kits, if they are into working with their hands.” He pointed at some boxes stacked on a side shelf. “Or, you could get the two of them one big toy and they could play with it together.” He noticed the frown on Rick’s face, and added: “I see.