The Bartolini's maid showed me into the reception room and pointed out the veranda door at the garden beyond. "Il giardino." Then she pointed to me. "Lei."

  "That sounds wonderful. I'll take a walk in the garden."

  The garden was just where I wanted to go. I had asked the Whitehorses to drop me off early, hoping I would have time to question Ovidio before the children arrived. The maid would be leaving soon for her evening off, and the whole family would go to Antonio's rosary, and I would sit with Ernesto's children. Laura had forgotten about the rosary and had apologized for the inconvenience when she called the Whitehorses earlier. But it was actually very convenient for me, considering my promises to Michela Whitehorse and Marshal Tadeucci to investigate.

  I heard someone on the garden path to my right, and turned just in time to see Tomaso stride up the stairs and enter the house. I followed Tomaso's path away from the house and very soon encountered Cinzia. She was seated on one side of a stone bench for two. Had I just missed another intimate conversation between Tomaso and Cinzia?

  "You and Tomaso seem very close, Cinzia."

  "You?" Cinzia asked in panic that turned quickly to anger. "Were you spying on us?"

  "No, of course not! I was taking a walk while waiting for the children." I sat down beside Cinzia and said sympathetically, "Tonight's rosary will be difficult for you, and tomorrow's the funeral."

  "Don't expect me to shed any tears. We weren't engaged that long!" Cinzia got up and headed for the house.

  I hurried after her. "I'll walk with you." I did not wait for Cinzia to agree. "It must be very difficult for Giovanna, losing a son."

  Cinzia cast a contemptuous look at me but said nothing. The callousness of the young woman brought uncharacteristic anger to my heart. "You grew up with these boys! You must feel something!"

  Cinzia turned on me with characteristic anger. "They're older than me! They went to a different school than I did! They were always with their father! They're boys! I don't have to answer your questions. I'm not a suspect. I have an alibi, so go investigate someplace else!"

  "Oh, yes. You said you were with Tomaso by the pool."

  "I said it because I was with Tomaso by the pool!"

  I ignored Cinzia's sarcasm and asked innocently, "Why would I or anyone consider you a suspect? Antonio was your fiancé."

  "That's right." Cinzia's features hardened. "I have no motive. I was going to become a real member of this family. Why would I ruin that?" Cinzia then hurried ahead of me, ran up the stairs, and disappeared into the house.

  But what if Antonio had decided not to anger his mother and risk his inheritance? Suppose he decided to end the engagement. I could easily imagine Cinzia's quick temper getting the better of her!

  *****

  I stopped near the stone bench and looked around for Ovidio's studio. The light from the cottage windows had been easy to see at night, but in this early evening light, it was difficult to find the ivy-covered building. Finally I spotted it. The French doors were open, and as I approached, I saw Ovidio standing near his sculpture.

  "Good evening, Bert. Please, come in."

  I entered the studio and took up a position in front of the sculpture, a conceptual image of a woman. "It's very moving, Ovidio. Is it finished?"

  "Yes, I finished it today." He admired his work a moment, then turned to put away some sketches that were on his worktable.

  "What are those?"

  "Ideas for this work. I always start from sketches, but it never comes out how I first imagine. Very disappointing." Ovidio studied a charcoal sketch with a critical eye.

  I peered over his shoulder. "It's beautiful, but I like your sculpture better. There's more emotion in it."

  "Yes, that's true. But I love the peace of the charcoal on white paper. I keep all my sketches." Ovidio opened a portfolio and showed me one of the drawings.

  "That's Anna!" I exclaimed, as I was surprised to see Anna's beautiful face looking back at me.

  "Anna's modeled for me for years. Giovanna used to model for me, too."

  "How long have you known them?"

  "A long time." Ovidio's gaze clouded over. "I've known Anna since she came from Yugoslavia with her parents. We were both outcasts, and Giovanna took us in."

  I thought Ovidio's romantic version of the past typical for an artist. "Why were you an outcast, Ovidio?"

  "I'm an introvert in a country of extraverts, and I have the soul of an artist. Artists are always on the outside looking in. Do you know what I mean?" He looked at me searchingly to see if I could understand his artistic soul.

  Ovidio had spoken the difficult English words with ease. I wondered how many of his overseas collectors had been entertained by this performance of artistic angst. I found Ovidio amusing, so I played along. "An artist needs that perspective to make art that tells a society's story. That's what all great art does."

  My answer pleased the artist and self-dramatist. "We should go to the house, now. I don't want to be late." Ovidio offered me his arm, and we set off down the garden path.

  I sighed and said, "I can't help thinking about Antonio and Cinzia."

  Ovidio said nothing.

  "Their engagement caused such a stir."

  Ovidio still said nothing so I tried a direct question. "Do you think Antonio would have married Cinzia against his mother's wishes?"

  "No, I don't. Anna would have taken care of that. She's a good mother and friend to Giovanna." He explained to me, as if I were a small child, "Antonio was not the man for Cinzia, for any woman, probably. He was too selfish to be a good husband. He was just like his father. He listened only to his desires, and hurt many people, very much. But I never interfere with family affairs. It's not my place."

  Ovidio credited Anna with more influence over her hostile daughter than I did. From what I had seen and heard, Anna did not even manage to speak to Cinzia the day of the murder, let alone convince her not to marry Antonio! As we neared the house, I expressed my doubts, "I'm not so sure Cinzia would have listened to Anna, but she would surely have listened to Tomaso. She seems to confide in him and look to him for guidance. I think he could have reasoned with her."

  Ovidio shouted, "Tomaso has no place advising Cinzia! Giovanna protected her then, and she'll protect her now! Tomaso has no place!"

  I risked provoking Ovidio again by asking, "Giovanna protected Cinzia when?"

  "That's not what I meant! I didn't mean at the party. I meant when she was a baby. Giovanna and Anna are both good women! They could hurt no one, ever!" Ovidio glared at me, then quickly climbed the steps to the house.

  I reflected that both my interviewees that evening had run off in anger. I had a lot to learn about being a detective! And what had I learned from all the questions? Cinzia probably loved no one, not even herself, and she desperately wanted to be a real Bartolini. And Ovidio had lied to the marshal to protect Tomaso, but now it looked as if he had lied to save Giovanna from pain. And he attributed exaggerated mothering skills to Anna. I decided that anything Ovidio said had to be taken with a grain of salt if it had anything to do with Giovanna his benefactress or Anna his muse!

  *****

  "Are you alone?"

  "There you are!" Laura started to rise from her place on the sofa.

  "Stay put. I'll join you." I entered through the veranda doors and took the seat next to Laura. "You look very tired."

  "Lack of sleep and a long day. I'll try to catch up tonight. How was your day? Did you find the library?"

  "I didn't get lost, and my day was wonderful! The library is a dream, and Michela treated me to lunch and a beautiful concert in that concert hall. What's it called?"

  "Teatro Comunale, the Communal Theatre. It sounds nicer in Italian."

  "How was your visit with Pina Tadeucci?"

  "Wonderful! She's bright and sly!" Laura laughed. "There was no school assignment. She just wanted to get to know me. I have a feeling she misses her mother."

  "She's at an age when she would miss her."

  "That's what I thought, so as I was leaving I told her that whatever she feels she can't speak to her father about, she could talk about with me. I know what you're going to say! I'll call Franco tomorrow and make sure that it's alright with him, but I'm sure it will be."

  "Franco, huh? Did you see our marshal today?"

  "Pina set us up! She had him come home on a pretext so we would meet."

  "What did you talk about? The case?"

  "No. Books! Franco has a wonderful collection of books on architecture, history, and gardens. They're interests of his. He even had my books!" This pleased her. "We talked a bit about Pina, and then," she hesitated, "then I left."

  I did not believe Pina was the only thing they talked about. Was it possible Franco told Laura how he felt about her?

  "My nerves were on edge from the bad night and the difficult morning, but Franco was very understanding." Laura was about to say more, but stopped abruptly.

  I turned around and saw that Tomaso had just entered the room. He joined us and put his arm around Laura. "How was your day?"

  "Good. Okay. It wasn't easy canceling all the wedding plans."

  "It's only a postponement. Mother would kill me if it weren't." Tomaso startled Laura and I with his inappropriate choice of words. "Sorry! I didn't mean that literally. Where was my head?"

  Beatrice and Leo bolted through the reception room door and ran to Laura. They hugged her and both started speaking at once, telling her of everything exciting they had experienced since the last time they had seen her.

  Tomaso took this moment to pull me to one side. He whispered, "Bert, Cinzia's told me about your conversation in the garden. She wants me to apologize if her words came across harshly. She's a very private person and reacts badly when questioned about her emotions."

  "I see. I'm sorry I upset her." I wondered why Cinzia had Tomaso apologize for her.

  "Cinzia's very upset over Antonio's death, but she's not comfortable showing it, or talking about it with strangers."

  "She's lucky to have you, Tomaso."

  He hesitated a moment before answering, "I do what I can, to be a friend."

  "Yes, that's what I mean. Please, offer my apologies to Cinzia for my prying."

  "I will, but don't worry about it." Tomaso smiled his winning smile.

  Everyone was in the reception room by now. Giovanna called out, "Tomaso, will you and Laura come here a moment?"

  Her son collected his fiancé and went directly to his mother's side. I saw Cinzia watching Laura and Giovanna contemptuously. For someone who did not like to show her emotions, Cinzia was not very good at hiding her dislike of people.

  "There's dinner for you and the children in the kitchen, Bert," Graziella explained. "After dinner, they can watch their favorite TV show, but only if they're good until we leave!" Graziella looked threateningly at her children.

  The jewels around Graziella's neck caught my eye. "Lovely jewelry." I smiled at the disagreeable woman.

  "Oh? Yes, they are nice." Graziella caressed her necklace and earrings.

  "Did you buy them today, on the Ponte Vecchio?"

  "What? No!"

  Ernesto looked up with rare interest but said nothing.

  "I was on the bridge today and saw you. I tried to say hello, but just missed you when you went into one of the shops."

  Graziella looked quickly in Giovanna's direction and saw her mother-in-law intent on something she was saying to Tomaso and Laura. Graziella looked relieved as she turned back to me and whispered, "I was looking for a wedding gift for Laura. Don't ruin the surprise!"

  "My lips are sealed," I promised. I knew any nice gift from Graziella would be a surprise for Laura, even if I told her of this conversation!

  "I have an announcement to make." Giovanna sounded very businesslike. "Tomaso and Laura's wedding has been postponed one month. We don't want to keep them waiting any longer than that!"

  Laura did not greet the announcement with much joy, and she very quickly managed to come to my side. "There's dinner in the kitchen. Call if there are any problems." She lowered her voice and whispered, "I was so relieved to have cancelled the wedding, and now this! But it didn't seem the time to argue."

  I saw Tomaso heading for us. I whispered hurriedly to Laura, "You've just the rosary to get through this evening. We'll talk later!"

  *****

  A table in the kitchen had been set for three, and a platter of cold meats and cheeses sat in the center of it. Bread, olives, pickled vegetables, drinks, olive oil, and butter made up the rest of our meal. The children enjoyed the picnic food, as they called it, competing to see who could make the most disgusting combination of ingredients between two slices of bread, and then amazing me with their ability to eat the concoctions.

  "I have to compliment you both on your wonderful English! I'm very impressed. Did you learn it at school?"

  They laughed at the suggestion. Beatrice said, "We speak English with our friends on vacation."

  "In England?"

  "No," Leo laughed. "In Spain and," he hesitated, "other places."

  "Malta, Switzerland, Prague. That's in the Czech Republic." Beatrice looked proud of her knowledge of geography. "We go on vacation lots of times, every year."

  "We have a house in a golf place." Leo was proud of that and bragged, "I play golf."

  Beatrice shook her head at me to indicate her brother was exaggerating, but she did not challenge him openly.

  "Does the whole family go with you?

  "No, just us!" Leo laughed at what seemed to him a silly question. "Mamma and Papa don't like anyone in the family."

  "Leo!" Beatrice looked cautiously at me to see my reaction to Leo's revelation, but I made sure she saw none.

  Leo seemed to relish revealing family secrets. "They hated Antonio, and they're glad he's dead. Now he won't bother us anymore!"

  Beatrice explained. "No one liked Antonio. He was mean. He would come to our house and fight with Papa, every week."

  "What about?"

  "We don't know." Leo shrugged his shoulders.

  His sister remained quiet.

  The kitchen clock struck the hour, and both Beatrice and Leo ran out the kitchen door. I followed them into a family room and found them watching the opening credits of a television show. On the screen was a German shepherd racing after dangerous-looking men. As far as I could follow the dubbed Italian and the images, it seemed that the dog knew the criminals from the first moment. The rest of the show consisted of his trying to communicate this information to his policeman sidekick.

  My mind was not on the show, however. I was wondering what Antonio and Ernesto could have fought about. The company? Their inheritance? Was Antonio trying to win over Ernesto in his plans to wed Cinzia? They seemed to have reached some kind of agreement, at least by the day of the party, and Antonio's murder. Ernesto and Graziella said they were walking in the olive grove and vineyard at the time of the murder. But why did they leave the children with Laura? Did they plan on leaving the vineyard to talk to Antonio? They could have fought, and Ernesto could have killed Antonio to cut him out of the inheritance. Was it fratricide?

  Or was it matricide? Did Giovanna see Antonio enter the oil shed for his appointment with Tomaso and follow him inside to continue their argument? Did she hit Antonio in anger with the wooden log? What if Tomaso came in just then, and he tried to cover it up by crushing Antonio's head with the grindstone. Was that why Tomaso was so insistent on saying it was a freak accident? Was that why Giovanna seemed more afraid than grief stricken when she heard of Antonio's death? Did Giovanna describe the murder in gory detail to everyone that day to protect Tomaso from accidentally revealing too much during questioning by the marshal? Is that why Tomaso became so upset when Marshal Tadeucci asked if Giovanna had been near the oil shed the day of the murder? Was that why the mother and son were trying so hard to protect each other? Were they accomplices? My head hurt from all the questions. The dog on the TV was making more progress than I was.

  Tomaso? I had forgotten something about Tomaso. What was it? The garden shed, of course! How stupid! Maybe Tomaso had been unable to find what he was looking for in the dark, and it was still there. I should have told Franco Tadeucci about it! I decided I was a hopeless amateur detective, and it would probably be best to leave everything to Franco Tadeucci!

  *****

  "Bert, why don't you join us in the reception room. We'll stay for a drink and then be off." Laura sounded as weary as she looked.

  Beatrice and Leo were transfixed by yet another of their favorite television shows and did not even notice everyone's return from the rosary. I left them to their entertainment.

  "I'd rather take you away now and put you to bed!"

  "Yes, mom!" Laura laughed. "Only five minutes more, for Giovanna. She's very upset."

  When we entered the reception room, I had to agree with Laura about Giovanna. She looked as if the rosary had finally brought home the loss of her son. Anna sat next to Giovanna and held her suffering friend's hand. Ovidio drank several whiskeys in a very short time. I did not think he would stay in our company much longer. He would likely stumble back to his studio and sleep it off. Only Cinzia looked unmoved by the difficult evening. She showed no difference in her usual smug, contempt-filled expression. I wondered why Tomaso even bothered to create the fiction of Cinzia's grief.

  Giovanna sighed heavily and said, "I just wish it were all over. The funeral, the investigation, everything."

  Laura set her untouched drink on the table and said, "I saw Marshal Tadeucci today. He said nothing about wrapping things up, I'm afraid."

  I noticed the suspicious looks Laura's words provoked.

  "You and your mother seem to be the only ones he doesn't suspect," Graziella said nastily.

  "And your children," Laura reminded her.

  "But he doesn't discuss the case with them," Graziella snapped back.

  "He doesn't discuss the case with us, either." Laura responded quickly.

  "What have you told him about us?"