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Authors: Coralie Hughes Jensen

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What are you going to tell them? At the moment, we can’t tell them he’s dead.” Sister Angela sighed. “The brothers probably wouldn’t have been told. I’ll find out for you. We have no victim yet and certainly can’t inform the family until we know he’s dead. You mentioned the explosion. Aside from the lack of human remains, what do you know about it?”

They walked into the cottage
. As Bassi had described to her, it seemed to have been four rooms, though the soot made it difficult to tell which room was which.

A uniformed man walked into the
cottage’s shell to speak with Morena. Morena turned to the nun, who was staring intently at the gray sky through the damaged roof. “Sister Angela, this is Assistant Detective Draco Loria.”

“I’m very happy to meet you, Sister. I hear
that your detective work is superb.”

The nun glanced at Morena, hoping he
wasn’t offended by the praise. After all, Loria did work for Morena. “Your theory, inspector?”

“I believe this was a gas explosion.”

“An accident?”

“No,” said Morena
. “If the gas was left on or there was a leakage from the pipe, there would need to be something that would spark it. The resident could have lit a cigarette or ignite a spark some other way. Then we would probably have found a body. There was no lightning or enough heat to cause a natural combustion of the materials. If the victim didn’t light it himself, then something else had to cause a spark.”

“And there’
s evidence to support that theory, inspector,” said Loria. “There are cuts in the pipe leading into the gas fireplace, and we found some sort of electrical device on the floor. It looks like someone set a timer for a mechanism to ignite the gas. There’s a timer on it, see? Even though that most likely did the trick, we also found a bomb.”

The Inspector
’s brow shot up. “I have heard no such report. Did it go off?”

“It was just found under the rubble. Yes,
it was a cylinder or pipe like a rocket at a fireworks display.”

“In that case, this
definitely wasn’t an inadvertent error made by the inhabitant.”

“He could have set it himself and fled,” said Sister Angela. “Perhaps he wanted to make us think he was dead.” She considered it for a moment. “Why cause the gas to ignite with a thingamabob
and
detonate a bomb? I’m not sure which went off first. If the bomb was supposed to ignite the gas, that would have a purpose, correct? But I can think of no other reason for a bomb.”

Loria cleared his throat.
“The explosive was pointed upward.”


Like it was on its end?” asked Morena. “But it could have landed that way. The explosion could have shoved it into the ground so that it looked like it was standing up.”


Possibly, but it was attached to a block with metal hinges. The block of wood is now charcoal, but it’s clear that the cylinder was still connected to it.”

“So that it w
ouldn’t fall over…” said Morena, obviously lost in thought. “And there was nothing else left from it?”

“There were
parts found on the floor and even stuck to the brick facings. They need to be examined. One of them might contain a manufacturing code or something to help us identify the producer.”

“I definitely want to know about the results of any tes
ts on what you’ve found,” said Sister Angela. “If you can give me a day or two to get started, we might be able to meet in Avalle and exchange any new information.” She walked to the door and paused. “Inspector, why did the explosion blow up and not out. I’m not an expert, but I would expect the walls to go and the roof to drop.”

“Probably becaus
e the walls are constructed with bricks held in place by metal rods. The roof, on the other hand, is built with wood and tiles that are not mortared together. The pressure increased until it found the easiest way to escape. The rafters flew up, scattering the tiles.”

“I know you’
re both aware of this already, but to me it’s important which explosion happened first—the bomb or the detonation of the gas,” said the nun. “I’ll try to get that information from the witnesses. I mean, if someone was trying to murder the hermit, he would set the thingamajig to a certain time to make sure it went off after Brother Pietro returned from Compline.”

“And time enough for
the perpetrator himself to escape,” said Loria.


He must have expected the explosion to ignite the pipe bomb. But I still don’t understand why that bomb was needed.”

“There’
s plenty of time to speculate, Sister,” said Morena. “We’ll get this evidence to the lab. My men can search the wide swathe of ground around the
eremo
, looking for a body, while you do a round of interviews.”

The nun took a pad out of her
striped bag and began to make a list. “Yes, I’ll start with those who had the closest access.”

“His neighbors, the other hermits?”

“No, his keepers. They have much more access to the hermits than anyone. I want to know how the system works—who delivers what when and how one gets access to interview the hermits themselves.” The nun turned to step over the threshold into the sun that was quickly melting away the clouds. “Yes, finding a body is important, chief inspector. I’m afraid if we can’t find the monk alive or dead soon, they’ll send us all home, claiming that someone is on his way to becoming a new saint.”

Loria
led her along the wrought-iron perimeter fence until they found a gate to the back woods. She met some of the policemen trying to unearth more evidence.

“Have you found anything yet?” she asked two of them
, combing through the low brush.

“Not yet. We spent the morning looking for ash or bones closer to the
fence. We didn’t find anything like that. I hear they discovered some charred bushes and a tree limb farther along the hillside. At least they have something to report.”

“I assume you were looking for the skeletal remains of who
mever was in the house?”

“Yes. That’s also why we were looking for ash. We figured that if we waited, the birds or forest animals would help themselves. I’m sure the others tha
t found the charred bushes were doing the same. It would be odd, though, to see parts of someone fly forty to fifty meters through the air, Sister.”

“Yes indeed. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t keep looking, does it?”

“So the explosion carried off debris in our direction where it charred trees and bushes on the way down,” said Sister Angela.

“It looks that way, but that doesn’t mean some
of it didn’t land all over this patch of woods.”

The nun was beginning to feel the heat o
f the summer afternoon. Bassi helped her down the slope and across the parking lot where he had set up two chairs that overlooked the valley below. He had her sit down and handed her a bottle of cold water. Pouring a bit on a kerchief, she dabbed her neck and face.

Ba
ssi then handed her a sandwich. “I made these in the kitchen.”

“Whose kitchen?”

“The one across from the church. They create meals for the
eremiti
. I knew they were too busy to make ours so I brought supplies for us and set up on one of the counters. Hopefully the police brought their lunches because I didn’t think of them.”

“Thank you, Ignazio. I’m starving. Is that Avalle
through the treetops or are we looking at another valley?”

“Yes, it’
s Avalle. If you carefully scan the treetops you might be able to make out the roof of Santo Velo too. You can tell because of the stream that runs past the monastery. It loops around like a dragon’s tail. Can you see it?”

BOOK: Il Pane Della Vita
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