Return to Umbria by David Wagner (best book series to read .txt) 📕

before taking another small bite of tortellino. He was making it last. “Gisa is good looking, intelligent, has a great personality. Not in the same class as Betta, of course, but more than a lowly policeman could hope for in a female companion.”

As Rick hoped, the comment brought a smile to LoGuercio. “So how did you two meet? If you don’t mind a question from a lowly policeman.”

Betta expected Rick to continue the repartee, but instead he turned serious and described the trip to Bassano del Grappa where he and Betta met while helping to solve a pair of crimes. Usually the wine made him more jocular, but this bottle was having the opposite effect. He made it sound like she had been, if not the key person in the Bassano investigation, at least an equal partner. When Rick finished, with the conclusion that fate had brought them together, she was too stunned to speak.

Paolo didn’t notice her reaction, but Rick did. He reached over and put his hand on top of hers before looking toward LoGuercio. “So that’s how we met, my friend. But now she’s followed me to Rome.” He leaned closer to the policeman and lowered his voice. “Paolo, I think she’s stalking me.”

Betta took two short breaths and tapped her chest with the free hand. “Thank goodness the Rick I know is back. I was worried there for a moment.”

Conversation returned to their food. Bites were exchanged and tastes analyzed. Wineglasses were refilled. A vote was taken on which pasta was more tasty, but since each of them chose their own dish, the tortellini won easily. The next decision was what, if anything, to have next. Betta said a secondo for her was out of the question. The men, perhaps in deference, agreed to pass up the main course, but something to clear the palate? The helpful waiter suggested sorbetto of either lime, strawberry, or peach. They agreed it was an excellent suggestion, and asked that each of their bowls have a small scoop of each flavor. The waiter, as good waiters do, complimented them on the choice and disappeared into the kitchen with their empty pasta plates.

LoGuercio leaned back in his chair. “Riccardo, could you accompany me to the interview of this Professor Tansillo? It is an American university program he ran, so you may think of things to ask him that would not occur to me.”

Rick turned to Betta, who wore a classic “I told you so” look on her face.

“You don’t need my permission, Rick,” she said. “Also, this afternoon I would love to poke into some of the shops for which Orvieto is famous. If you’d rather do that than help Paolo with the investigation…”

“No, Betta, thank you. And Paolo has a point, American universities are not organized in the same way as Italian ones. I may be able to—”

A deep voice broke in. “You’ll forgive me for interrupting your meal. I know that even police inspectors in the midst of an investigation have to eat.”

Rick and the policeman rose from their chairs, napkins in hand. At table-side stood a large man dressed in a well-tailored suit. A perfectly trimmed salt and pepper goatee surrounded a pair of large lips open in a smile. The little hair he had above the ears matched the beard. LoGuercio immediately showed discomfort.

“Mayor Boscoli, may I present Riccardo Montoya and his friend Betta Innocenti. Riccardo has been assisting me in the investigation.”

Bernardo Boscoli shook hands with Rick and Betta, eying them carefully as he did.

“Are you a policeman, Signor Montoya?”

“No, sir. The inspector asked me to help interpret when he was questioning two people involved in the case. I’m a professional translator and interpreter.”

“Riccardo was kind enough to use his English skills at the American university program where the victim had been a student.”

“She was in that program? I didn’t know that.”

“Neither did we until Riccardo uncovered it.”

The mayor nodded his head several times. “This is very good. But you don’t think she could have been killed by someone in this program, do you Inspector?”

“Not with the program now, but during the time she was here. If we can find someone who knew her in 1980.”

“Yes, that would make perfect sense. Are you getting close to finding the culprit, Inspector?”

“It is still very early in the case, Mr. Mayor.”

Boscoli thought before answering. “Of course it is. If there are developments, I would appreciate being informed.” He looked back at a table where a man was placing his cell phone down on the tablecloth. “Vincenzo has finished his call. It sounded important so didn’t want to eavesdrop on the man. I was a pleasure to meet you, Signor Montoya, and you, Signora Innocenti.”

Rick and LoGuercio sat down after the man walked away.

“First the head of tourism and now the mayor himself.” LoGuercio rubbed the back of his neck as if he had slept on it wrong. “Everyone wants to be kept informed.”

“It’s natural that they would,” said Betta. “It seems like you could give updates to the mayor, and he could pass it on to Morgante and anyone else on the city council.”

“Unfortunately it doesn’t work that way, Betta. Morgante and Mayor Boscoli are not just in different political parties, they are adversaries. Morgante wants to be the next mayor. So they don’t talk much, except when they clash at city council meetings.”

“At this point,” Rick said, “I think I’d vote for Morgante. Seems like an affable fellow. Betta and I ran into him this morning in front of the Duomo and he offered us a personal tour of it this afternoon.”

“He probably wants to pump you for information about the investigation. I may have given him the impression that you’re involved.”

“He won’t get anything out of me.” Rick finished the last drops from his wineglass. “Has Boscoli been mayor long?”

“As long as I’ve been here,” LoGuercio answered. “He’s also a lawyer, and a very prosperous one. Owns a lot of buildings in town, mostly commercial property.”

“I’ve