Cold Tuscan Stone, David Wagner [i read book txt] 📗

what better venues to see in Italy than churches? He walked past his hotel toward the San Francesco church near the city gate. As he reached the driveway to the hotel garage he heard his phone ringing inside his coat. He recognized the number.

“Beppo, come stai?

“Bene, Rick, your name came up in a meeting with the minister this morning. I told him that the project is right on schedule. E’ vero?

This was not the old Beppo, the one he’d again seen at lunch after their meeting at the ministry. They were both creeping closer to middle age, but still hung on to the juvenile banter of high school when it was just the two of them, at least at the start of a conversation. Perhaps someone—the enigmatic Signor Vetri?—was in the room with him. “Of course it’s true, Beppo, I am working tirelessly for you and the minister. Relax, you will be the first to hear when Signor Santo contacts me again.” That is, if he contacts me again. “I can report that all the first encounters have now taken place, the third one just now with the exporter, Polpetto. Despite the meeting in the cathedral yesterday, I thought I should keep to the original schedule.”

“Good idea, Rick.” Beppo seemed to lighten up. Slightly. “How was Signor Polpetto?”

“A strange bird that one.” Beppo listened to the description of the meeting with the exporter and was laughing at the end. So he must be alone, Rick thought.

“Okay, Rick, I agree that he doesn’t appear to be the person to lead a band of thieves, but you never know. It could be a clever façade. We didn’t put him on the list on a whim. As I told you in your briefing, he’s been involved in some shady dealings in the past, though nothing that could ever be proven.”

“I’ll keep an open mind, Beppo, but frankly if I had to bet who was involved, I’d put more money on his secretary than on him. He doesn’t seem to do anything, except maybe play with his toys, without her being involved.”

“Tell me more,” Beppo said, and Rick described Claretta and her strange relationship with her boss. “The woman behind the throne,” said Beppo, “or at least behind the desk. Of course she may have insisted on being in on the meeting because she is coming on to you. She sounds very much like your type. Remember at school when you dated—”

“Very funny, Beppo. But to get back to my real work up here, at this point Polpetto is last, and Landi is still at the top of my list as the one who put Santo onto me. Donatella is somewhere in the middle.”

“Why Landi?”

“Just a second.” He waited while a man walked slowly past him, obviously curious about what was being said. “Sorry about that,” Rick said when the man was out of ear shot, “A nosey local. Now, Landi. Hard to put my finger on it, but he just seems to fit the profile I have in mind. So much of the stuff he sells in the shop is Etruscan reproductions, why not have a hand in dealing with the real thing? It would be a natural extension of the business, like FIAT going into motorcycles.”

Beppo became serious again. “You’re probably correct, Rick. I hope it doesn’t take too long for this to play out. If you don’t hear back from this guy soon we’ll have to decide whether to add other names on the list, or admit defeat. As much as I would love to keep you in pasta and wine up there indefinitely, the minister probably won’t. He is already getting anxious about the whole idea, despite the good news.”

“I’ve only been here for two days.”

“This is your third day, Rick. Worried that you won’t get time to try out all the restaurants in town?” There was nothing playful in Beppo’s voice, and Rick wished they were face to face to know for sure if there was more to the comment than the usual joking between friends. No doubt Beppo was taking some heat about the idea of sending the American up to do what the police should have handled themselves. Better to let the comment pass.

“Rick, is there anything else happening that I should know? How about your contacts with the local constabulary? You told me yesterday that you had met with Conti on that first day, but you didn’t go into great detail. And you went back to see him yesterday after we talked.”

“Well, there is something I didn’t mention, with the appearance of Santo and all I forgot to tell you. There was an unfortunate accident.”

“Accident?”

“Well, not exactly an accident. Conti thinks it was murder…Beppo, are you still there?”

“Yes, Rick, I’m here. What happened?”

Rick told him about his short meeting with Canopo and what took place after it, though Beppo didn’t sound extremely bothered by the incident. He asked questions, most about Rick’s relationship with Conti, and when they were answered, he returned to the issue at hand.

“If I thought the man’s death was related to your work, Rick, I would pull you off immediately. But it appears to be a strange coincidence. Who knows why the man was killed? You said he was from Sicily, so that alone opens various possibilities. Anyway, let’s hope that your little trip bears some real fruit, and soon.”

“I’m sure we’ll hear something before too long,” said Rick. “In the meantime, I’m having coffee with your curator friend later this morning. He’s warmed up after our initial contact. I may have caught him on a bad day when I dropped in.”

“You didn’t tell me you had seen Zerbino.” The slight edge in Beppo’s voice had returned.

“Yesterday. He gave me an abbreviated tour of the museum before leaving to attend to some business.”

“Well, I suppose having coffee with Zerbino will be as good a way as any to wait for Santo to turn up with a relic under his arm.” There was