Chianti Classico (14 page)

“We have a few more questions, Mr. Abiati,” said Pagano. “I had my men check for footprints along the vineyard side of the building. We suspect the old nun walked down the drive and around the building to enter through the basement and that she and Pia left through the same door. My men found no footprints, however. Can you tell me if you’ve done anything to the side yard that might make them disappear?”

“It’s been nearly two weeks,” Abiati said. “Every Friday, I rake the soil in the gardens. It keeps the dirt from clumping on that side of the house. I probably ruined the evidence myself. I’m sorry. I’m not used to crime scenes. My job’s to keep the grounds neat and tidy. It irks me that I, in any way, might have helped the old nun who took the child.”

“And in the last few weeks, you never saw anyone on the other side of the fence at all—either someone you know or someone you didn’t.”

Leaning his rake against his shoulder, Abiati stopped to think. “I saw La Barca out there a few times.”

“What was he doing?”

“Actually, he’s come out to this section pretty often lately. I guess I figured it’s because the grapes are nearly ready, and he’s checking them.”

“You rarely saw him before a few weeks ago.”

“That’s right. I noticed his truck come and go up and down his drive, but I didn’t often see him.”

“What was he doing when you saw him?”

“The last time was in the last couple of days. He came out with a rake and cleared the area from the fence to his vines. I waved at him and heard him say something about the weeds under his breath.”

“Was that odd?”

“Well, no. I do it on this side of the fence all the time. It wouldn’t strike me as odd. But now that you mention it, I’d never seen him do it before. Weeds always grew along the fence before that. I was exasperated because the seeds from the weeds always seem to blow back through the fence and grow on my side. That’s why I rake all the time—to keep them from germinating.”

“Did you ever see him digging in the area?”

“Come to think of it, yes. It was the evening before last, just as I was putting tools away after my shift. He was shoveling around the end of one of the rows. I don’t know why. I guess he knew what he was doing.”

“Very deep?” asked Sister Angela.

“Like he was trying to dig up the end vine.”

“My team didn’t mention anything about digging,” said Pagano.

The chief detective walked to the side of the building. Sister Angela and Abiati followed.

“From here you can’t tell where he was digging,” said Sister Angela. “He must have tamped it down pretty well.”

“Which row?” asked Pagano.

“I come out of the basement shed right here,” said Abiati. “It must have been two or three rows back toward the road.”

The nun and chief detective looked at each other.

“It sounds like we’re going to have to bring him in,” Pagano said, taking out his phone.

“I had planned to return to Castel Valori as soon as possible,” said the nun. “But under the circumstances, I think I might like to find out more about what Martino’s been up too.”

“I’ll wait here until my men arrive.” He gestured to the detective sergeant, jumping down from the picnic table. “Elmo, can you please drive Sister Angela to the station?”

“Do you want us to get you lunch, sir?”

“Why don’t we wait until after we’ve questioned La Barca and see what he has to say about the recent upgrades to his property. After that, I might be able to keep something down.”

Sister Angela sat in a chair in the corner of Pagano’s interrogation room. A table was set up for the chief, his detective sergeant, and the suspect.

Pagano suddenly rose. “While we wait for Elmo to bring the witness, why don’t I ask someone to bring in water? Would you like anything else?”

“No thank you.”

Within minutes, La Barca stumbled into the room, and he and Sacco sat down.

“You know why you’re here, don’t you?” asked Pagano, fiddling with the recorder.

“I suppose it’s because I found the piece of cloth.”

“It has more to do with the fact that when you found the cloth, you immediately covered up any other evidence in the area.”

“I told your officers that one of my staff…”

“We have a witness who said he saw you rake the dirt yourself. You lied to us so you wouldn’t be a suspect in the kidnapping of one of the orphans next door. Why did you rake the area?”

La Barca’s hands began to shake, and he hid them under the table. “I always rake beyond the rows before we pick the grapes.”

“You always rake a certain area that just happens to have evidence of a crime?”

“The weeds along the fence are starting to die. It’s easier to pull them in the fall.”

“But the weeds continue to grow along the fence all the way to the road. Why only do the middle section?”

“The nun—Sister Angela—showed me the window where there was an eyewitness who described the kidnapper. When we were there, I noticed the weeds. Onlookers from the road might think I was being inattentive. I started in the middle section because I figured police would be examining the place and notice it. I didn’t even consider the police would need to comb the area for more evidence.”

Pagano let out a long sigh.

“Do I need an
avvocato
?”

“Yes, I’m just trying to make up my mind whether to keep you or to let you go.”

“On what charges?”

“You lied to us about who raked.”

“I only did that because I didn’t want everyone to know my vineyard isn’t as successful as those around us.”

“How many people work for you?” The chief detective slapped down a piece of paper and pencil on the table in front of the suspect. “I want their names and the names of your suppliers—anyone connected with you and your operation. We’ll come back in a while with my decision.”

The interrogators left the room. The nun poured water from a pitcher into a paper cup on the table before she too walked outside the door with the cup. The three reconvened in Pagano’s office.

“Well, what do you think?” asked Pagano.

“I don’t think he’s giving us the whole story,” said Sacco. “I just don’t believe him.”

“I have to confess I did see him glance around the area when we were at the last vine,” said Sister Angela. “Maybe he was embarrassed. Let’s ask ourselves why he’d claw through the vine to find the cloth if he were guilty. Was he trying to pin the kidnapping on the old nun because he’d heard the stories a witness had told? That’s a possibility. I suppose you already figured that out because you asked him to write down the names of his suppliers.”

“I don’t think he’d lead us to the truck that took her away by writing it down as I requested. I’ll send out a team to get molds of tire tracks when we go back there to investigate.”

“What about the wife?” asked Sacco. “Do you think she’s in on it? We should be out there now.”

“I have a car in front of the vineyard. If she comes out, they’ll call us.”

“He told me she was away visiting family,” said Sister Angela. “Someone should check on that too.”

“So you both think he’s guilty.”

“I’m not sure,” responded the nun. “Do you think he sold the child for money?”

“It sounds like he needed cash to keep the operation going. The quicker we find out who did it, the more likely we are to find her alive. We can’t just sit here. I’m afraid La Barca’s just going to have to sit it out in jail, Sister. Hopefully he’ll be out in time to pick his grapes. But that’ll probably only happen if we find the child.”

Sister Angela stepped outside and bought herself a slice of pizza from the cart along the curb.

Not long afterward, Chief Detective Pagano joined her. “I was going to offer you lunch. You moved too quickly.”

Sister Angela smiled. “One of the nuns told me the food from the vender at this cart’s good. I had some the other day, and it was delicious.” She sipped on an orange soda. “Has anyone seen Martino’s wife?”

“No. You said you were there for a tour. Did you see her then?”

“He said she’d gone to visit relatives. If your scouts don’t see her, maybe you should find out where she is. She might be involved, you know.”

“I’m well aware of that. I should have asked him when we questioned him. Next time I see him, he’ll have his
avvocato
—a definite obstacle to our efforts to find her.”

“There’s another angle to this.”

“What?” asked Pagano.

“Does she exist? Before you go looking all over for her, you might want to check and see if he actually has a wife.”

“Well as soon as we’re finished with lunch, we’ll all head over to the vineyard. Maybe she’ll be there.”

The nun took another bite of her pizza. “Do you think the
avvocato
will beat us there?”

“A good
avvocato
will want his lunch first. Then he’ll head over here to talk to his client. We have a bit of time before he figures out where we are.”

“Moving to another part of our investigation, I was on the seven o’clock train from the mountains last night.”

The chief detective stopped mid bite and swallowed hard. “The one that was stopped?”

“Yes. They never told us what that was all about. Did we hit a cow?”

“No. Someone stuffed a large burlap bag full of tires and hay and threw it across the tracks. The train conductor thought it was a body. I suppose it looked like a body from his vantage point. My men figured there might have an explosive inside so they had to get the bomb squad out there. It wasn’t a bomb.” He turned to face her. “You were on that train? I wish I’d known. One of my crew might have offered you a ride into town.”

“Why would anyone do that?”

“Block the train? Do you think it had to do with your being on it? Again, who in Castel Valori did you talk to?”

“Let me see. I saw nuns, a priest, and the police. I don’t think any of them would let it slip that I was an investigator assisting you. I doubt it had anything to do with me. Is it related to the case? I’ll have to think about that. Was there any other reason someone would want to delay the train?”

“What did the priest say? He knew of no one who might have left the young child on a doorstep.”

“No. He only had the warning from a woman that a child might be living at the convent.”

“That person could have known the child was there because she was the one who placed the child there. You mentioned the bell at the convent—that someone would’ve had to leave the child and ring the bell. What did the woman the priest saw look like?”

“It was in the confessional, so Father Montez didn’t actually see the woman. She said she witnessed the child out walking with a nun. You may be right, but the priest wouldn’t be able to identify her so there doesn’t seem to be a way we can find the woman to question her.”

The two finished their lunches and placed the plates and cups on the counter.

“We should have a team waiting for us. Why don’t we see what we can find at the vineyard?”

The hot sun slipped behind a line of clouds just as Sister Angela emerged from Pagano’s car.
Relief from the heat
, she said.
Thank you
.

“We need to get this going before it storms,” said Pagano to one of his detectives. “Have your men start digging.”

“Where are you digging?” asked Sister Angela. “What do you suspect?”

“We have to check the area where La Barca tried to cover evidence.”

“You think we might find a body buried there?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Didn’t one of your orphans see the old nun? You reported La Barca discovered a piece of evidence in that area.”

“Well yes. I would’ve concentrated on the vine where the swatch was torn off.”

“Then why did he have to rake the area from there to the fence? We could’ve scanned it for footprints. Do you think he did it innocently?”

The nun and chief detective walked down the aisle between some of the grapevines in the direction of the raked area.
But a body is a leap. Do the police think Pia might be buried there? Possibly, yes. Probably, no.
Sister Angela remembered walking over the area when she was with Grazia. At the time, neither of them noticed any turned or loose soil.
Could the old nun have come back and buried Pia later?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a policeman rapidly approaching. “There’s no one in the house. I left the papers on a table, sir.”

“Is there evidence his wife still lives there?”

“Yes, there are clothes in the closet. It looks like a woman lives there. But the kitchen’s a mess—like she isn’t there now.”

“He could’ve been telling the truth,” said the nun. “She might be visiting relatives.”

“Or she could’ve left him. Check for address books. Is there a computer?”

“Yes, a laptop. I’ll bag that.”

“What about a cell phone?”

“He brought that with him to the station.”

“Call in and get someone to find her number. If she’s visiting relatives, they’ll be communicating.”

The two continued to the end of the row. Several men marked the area with twine and had already begun digging. The nun walked up to the vine on the end. La Barca had lovingly trimmed the broken branches. She reached under the remaining ones and pushed them aside, checking them as her eyes followed the vine’s twisty trunk to the ground.

“I’m sure La Barca already checked under there,” said Pagano.

“Look down here, Ricco,” she said. “The ground’s been watered down.”

“What do you mean?” He pushed aside the branches of the vine next to it. “This one’s dry. Why would he only water one?”

“Because a bucket of water would tamp down dirt that has been recently turned.”

“When you finish there,” he said to one of his men. “Take out this vine here.”

“Please remove it carefully,” Sister Angela said. “These vines are worth quite a bit of money. La Barca’s going to need the money to pay his
avvocato
.”