From Mangia to Murder (A Sophia Mancini ~ Little Italy Mystery) (9 page)

“And?”“McIntyre’s sensitive about accusations of nepotism. He’s going to want to be very directly involved in solving this murder, and he’s going to want it wrapped up quickly with no interference.”

“What are you trying so hard to tell me?”

“All I’m saying is watch your step, Soph. McIntyre’s not going to like it if you get in his way.”

***

When Sophia arrived at Vincenzo’s Ristorante, Stella was nowhere in sight, so she decided to wait outside under the awning. She watched people walk by, waved hello to neighbors she recognized, and then her eye caught sight of a man with an artist’s drawing pad. He stood on the opposite sidewalk, glancing between his pad and the restaurant façade several times before sketching something.

Sophia’s curiosity got the better of her. She crossed the street.

“Hello, may I see what you’re drawing?”

The man, quite heavyset and close to fifty, she’d guess, smiled at her. His expression was friendly enough to put her at ease. “Certainly, Miss, although I’d hardly call it a drawing.” He held his pad out for her to see.

His sketch was a rough depiction of the front of Vincenzo’s. Except that if his design came to life, the restaurant would soon be known as Eugene’s Ristorante.

Well, Eugene Gallo certainly didn’t let any grass grow under his feet. It was hard to imagine Vincenzo’s not being Vincenzo’s, to her anyway. Apparently, it wasn’t as difficult a switch for Eugene.

“Interesting,” she said, and then an idea came to her. “I imagine these new signs must take a while to make. Can I ask how long this has been in the works? I didn’t know that the owners were thinking of making a change.”

“I just received a call this morning.” He nodded toward the restaurant. “Is the food any good in there?” Obviously he hadn’t heard about the murder. He must not be from the neighborhood.

“The food is wonderful, but I believe it’s closed today for a...family emergency.” She leaned over again to look at his sketch again. “Do you have a long waiting list for new clients?”

“It varies. Now that the war is over and materials are more plentiful, we hope to be busier.” He pulled a business card out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Are you asking because you know someone who needs a new sign?”

“No, just curious. Bad habit I have.”

His smile was indulgent. He flipped the pad closed. “Careful then, Miss. You know what curiosity did to the cat.”

***

When Sophia tried the restaurant door it opened easily.

She stood and surveyed the room. The dining area was empty. If she hadn’t been here herself last night she wouldn’t have believed this quiet, elegant restaurant could be the scene of a murder. She shivered.

“Stella,” she called out. There was no answer. The silence was eerie.

Where was Eugene? The door was unlocked, so he had to be here. A horrific idea dawned on her. What if...oh, no, it was too awful to think about. She rubbed her arms to ward off the chills. What if something had happened to Eugene? What if the murderer had come back?

Reason told her to leave the restaurant the way she’d come in. But curiosity drew her toward the kitchen. Her heart thudding, she pushed open the kitchen door, praying she wouldn’t find Eugene sprawled on the floor the way she had found Vincenzo just last night.

“Ah, Miss Mancini, how nice to see you.”

Sophia leaned against the door frame and heaved a huge sigh of relief.

Eugene Gallo stood on the opposite side of the kitchen. He wasn’t alone. Bobby Ippolito, Rudy Zangari and Augustino Ragallo were with him.

“Hi Sophia,” they chorused. She smiled back. She’d gone to high school with all three of them. Bobby she hadn’t seen since he had returned from the Pacific. It did her heart good to see them safely home and looking so healthy. But what were they doing here?

Eugene answered her unspoken question.

“I see you know our new wait staff, Miss Mancini.”

Good heavens, the man was on a roll. First the sign, and now new waiters. It was a wonder he’d had time for Mass this morning.

The kitchen was immaculate. She studied the floor where Vincenzo’s body had been only the night before. There was no evidence of any disturbance, let alone a bloody murder. The floor looked clean enough to eat off of. Her stomach turned.

“I’m sorry to interrupt. I just came in to...uh, see if you were...to tell you how delicious the food was last night.”

Eugene beamed. “Thank you. I’m working on a new menu today.”

“A new menu and a new sign too? Why the sudden changes?”

Eugene stared at her blankly for a moment and then his usual benign smile settled into place. “Rest assured that I’m only honoring Vincenzo’s wishes.”

“You mean to tell me that he would want to name the restaurant after you?” Sophia realized her voice lacked any measure of diplomacy, but she didn’t believe for a moment what Eugene was saying. “The menu changes I could understand, but why would Vincenzo agree to a name change?”

Eugene looked over his shoulder at the three onlookers before he turned back to Sophia, a frown on his face. “It was his suggestion, if you must know. He felt it was only fair to honor my culinary skills and contribution to the restaurant’s success.”

“That doesn’t sound like Vincenzo.”

He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “There were plenty of things you didn’t know about Vincenzo. Now I ask you to excuse us.”

***

Duly dismissed, Sophia waited for Stella outside the restaurant. At a quarter past four Stella came hurrying along the sidewalk, ever so slightly out of breath.

“Sophia, I’m sorry I’m late. My family wouldn’t let me get away.”

“Of course not. They’re worried about you. Why didn’t you bring one of your sisters with you?”

Stella shook her head. “They all hated Vincenzo, and telling them I was coming here would have required too many explanations.”

Sophia waited, but that was all Stella had to say. She followed as Stella led her through a side door and up the stairs to the apartment above the restaurant. She couldn’t help but notice that Stella’s hands shook as she put the key in the door.

“Are you sure you want to go in there, Stella?” she asked. “Surely it can wait a few days.”

Stella shook her head emphatically. “I really need to do this now. I need...” her voice trailed off. She seemed lost in thought for a long moment. “I need to see for myself that he’s not here.”

Once they were in the apartment, Sophia wondered what else Stella needed. By the way she went through Vincenzo’s things it appeared she was looking for something specific. As curious as she was, Sophia managed to keep her questions to herself for the moment. It seemed indecent to grill a new widow, even one who was far from grief-stricken.

She looked around the apartment. It was sparsely decorated, the furniture plain and the rugs and curtains old and faded. But it was clean. It looked like a room in a boarding house.

“Can I help you find something, Stella?” she finally asked.

Stella left the desk and sat down on the couch. She looked defeated.

“I was looking for cash.” She burst into tears and buried her face in her hands.

Sophia sat next to her. She gingerly patted the sobbing woman’s back.

“It’s okay, Stella, have yourself a good cry. God knows you deserve it.”

“You don’t know the half of it, Sophia.”

“Was it always so awful?”

“No, not at first.” Stella wiped her eyes with the handkerchief Sophia handed her. “When we first married I was under this crazy illusion that Vincenzo was a soft hearted man with a gruff, hard exterior. But I quickly figured out there was no soft heart. No heart at all really.”

“And you have no money?”

Stella shook her head. “None. He kicked me out with nothing. He packed my suitcase and told me to get out. That’s all I had, my one suitcase and the key he forgot to take from me.”

“Forgot?” Why was everyone taking her for a sap today? First Eugene, and now Stella. “That doesn’t sound like Vincenzo to forget you had a key.”

Stella’s face turned red. She was actually blushing. “Oh, God, Sophia. I’m so ashamed.”

“Tell me about it,” Sophia prodded her gently.

“Vincenzo used to call me back here. When he wanted me. And I had to come until he, you know, until he told me to go.”

Sophia felt ill. Stella couldn’t mean ... no, she had to have misunderstood. One glance at the other woman’s face told her she hadn’t misunderstood.

“But why?”

Stella started to cry again. Silent tears of anguish spilled down her cheeks. “If I didn’t, he threatened to hurt someone I loved. I couldn’t let that happen. I had to let him use me. I had to. I couldn’t think of any other way out.”

Murder was a way out. Sophia closed her eyes and shook her head to ward off the horror of what Stella had just shared with her. Any woman would understand the desire to escape, at any cost.

“But surely now that he’s gone you’ll be okay, won’t you?” Sophia knew the time alone with Vincenzo’s widow was a golden opportunity to gather information. She needed to keep Stella talking. “The restaurant must be doing well. It’s always full.”

Stella shrugged. “I don’t know. He never shared any of the financial details with me. Or any other kinds of details.”

“You weren’t curious?”

She shook her head. “If I asked, it made him angry. It just wasn’t worth it.” She sounded forlorn, like a confused child. “I’m just so tired of having no money at all. Every bite of food I eat, I have to accept as charity. Every piece of clothing has to come off of someone else’s back. It’s humiliating.”

“Is that why you came to the restaurant last night?”

Stella gasped. “What? I wasn’t here last night. Who told you that?”

No way was she giving up her brother’s name. “Someone I trust told me they saw you at the party.”

“No, no, I wasn’t here,” Stella vehemently denied it. “I never came to the restaurant unless I was forced to.” Her eyes narrowed. “Who told you they saw me here?”

Sophia’s heart sank. So Angelo had been wrong. She desperately wanted things to be like they were before the war, back when her brother’s mind had been strong, focused, and his memory like a trap that no detail could escape from.

“Never mind, it was probably a mistake.” She decided to take a different approach. “Who do you think killed Vincenzo?”

“I’m not sure what to think.” More tears pooled in Stella’s eyes. “I told the police I have no idea who did it.”

“You told the police....” Sophia let her voice trail off, hoping that Stella would say more. She didn’t have to wait long.

“But. I think--no, it’s not possible. It doesn’t make sense, but in a way it does--I just don’t know what to do.” Stella’s eyes filled with tears.

Sophia put a comforting arm around her shoulders. “Why don’t you tell me what you think, Stella, and maybe I can help you sort it out.”

Stella’s expression brightened. “I’d like to tell you, Sophia, just in case maybe I’m right. You see, it’s never made any sense that--”

The sound of heavy shoes on the wooden stairs startled both women. They jumped to their feet just before the door burst open.

“Ah, Miss Mancini. Why am I not surprised to see you where you don’t belong?”

Blast his Irish eyes. What was he doing here now? His timing couldn’t be worse.

Sophia and Stella sat silently on the sofa while Captain McIntyre and two of his men searched the apartment. Unlike Stella, who sat morosely staring into space, Sophia didn’t take her eyes off of the police captain’s movements. Despite watching him closely she didn’t learn anything new.

She well might have, though, if he hadn’t interrupted her conversation with Stella.

After an interminable wait, the police finally finished examining every square inch of the apartment. Despite their thorough search, they’d not found anything that seemed to interest them very much.

“All right then, we’re finished here.” Captain McIntyre turned to face both women. “I’ll need to ask you to come down to the station with me.”

Stella gasped. “But I’ve already told you everything I can. I’ve got the rosary tonight--”

“Not you, Mrs. Moretti.” He inclined his head in Sophia’s direction. “I was referring to Miss Mancini.”

Sophia’s eyes widened. “What on earth for? It’s not a crime that I’m here. Mrs. Moretti simply asked me to come with her to--”

“When you’re done Miss Mancini, be kind enough to let me know.”

Sophia took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. This man was far more infuriating than anyone she’d ever met. Ever.

“I’m done.”

“Right then, Mrs. Moretti. If there is anything else you need from the apartment I’d like you to take it now. We’ll be securing the premises for several days, so if you do need to come back, please call the station first and I’ll see that an officer accompanies you.”

“What about the restaurant?” Sophia asked.

“It’ll also remain closed for a few days.”

“Has anyone told Eugene that?” Sophia couldn’t help but ask.

“You may trust that we’re doing our job properly, Miss Mancini. Part of that is asking you to accompany me to headquarters so that you can give a statement.”

***

Sophia had just begun to give her statement when there was a knock on the door.

The police captain, seated at a small wooden table across from Sophia, nodded for Sergeant O’Brian to see who was at the door. His look of annoyance turned to confusion when he heard who wanted to see him.

“Two ladies apparently want to trade a bag of biscotti for Miss Mancini’s freedom,” Sergeant O’Brian told him.

Sophia struggled to keep a smile off of her face. The word of her ride downtown with the captain had reached her aunts in record time.

“Please assure the ladies that Miss Mancini is not in custody. She’s only providing a statement to assist us with our investigation.”

“What about the biscotti, Sir?”

Captain McIntyre sighed deeply. “If they offer to leave it then you may...dash it.” He stood. “Let me handle this. You remain here with Miss Mancini.”

As soon as the door shut behind him, Sophia asked the question she’d been most anxious to have answered. The young officer seemed a simple, honest type of person, so she tried a direct approach.