"She likes swimming and has lots of questions for me." Laura suggested, "How about if once a week Cecilio picks her up from school and brings her here."

  "Her schoolwork?" asked Franco, the parent.

  "After or before the swimming. You can pick her up here when you finish work."

  Franco thought about it, and then said, "Thursdays are best. I have meetings that can run late on Thursdays. I worry about her being alone."

  "Thursdays are fine," Laura agreed.

  Giusi Cecchi came around the corner and joined us. Pina climbed from the pool and Laura wrapped a robe around her. Giusi said proudly, "Pina's my new piano student! Laura says she's wonderful at math. They always make the best players!"

  Franco looked questioningly at Laura. She smiled beguilingly and said, "Between the swimming and the schoolwork, I guess."

  Pina put her arms around her father's shoulders and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Babbo, I've learned so much English talking with Laura, and I had exercise! Can I see Laura every week?"

  Franco eyed his sweet, teenaged daughter with wariness. "Vedremo."

  I laughed. "I bet that means, 'We'll see.' It sounds the same in any language."

  A disappointed Pina walked away with Giusi for her piano lesson. As they rounded my cottage, Pina glanced back at Laura who gave a discrete thumbs-up to their plan, putting a broad smile on the young girl's face.

  "I saw that signal." Franco eyed Laura sternly. "Don't be too soft on her. Give a girl an inch and," he paused, "they'll take your heart."

  Laura sat down opposite Franco. "If we play good-cop-bad-cop, we'll have Pina jumping through hoops." She winked at me.

  I was enjoying the show. I thought the energy coming from the two of them at that moment could light the whole property. While Tomaso and Laura had looked beautiful, Franco and Laura felt electric!

  "Where were you two, anyway?" asked Laura.

  Reluctantly, Franco said, "We were called to the Bartolini factory. Someone, we don't know who, attacked Tomaso. He's all right. Just a cut and a bump on the head."

  "Does that mean he's not a suspect anymore?"

  Franco said hesitantly, "If the attack was real, it could have been by someone who thinks Tomaso killed Antonio, and they wanted revenge. The attack doesn't prove anything, conclusively."

  "Sounds like you're stretching it." Laura said softly, "I think you want Tomaso to be the prime suspect. You suspected him immediately. Why?"

  "Instinct. Experience. Sibling rivalry can be a very strong motive. Also, the family inheritance was at risk with a brother like Antonio. Tomaso's the eldest child. I assumed he resented that the most."

  Laura reached out and took my arm, which I had been inspecting, gently in her hands. She turned it and saw the bruises Graziella had caused. "Who did this to you?" Laura looked to Franco for an explanation.

  He swallowed with difficulty, then found his voice. "Graziella Bartolini. I'm very sorry, Laura. I tried to keep an eye on her, but I lost Bert for a moment."

  "Lost her?" she asked incredulously.

  I interrupted, "I slipped away on my own and ended up questioning Graziella and Ernesto. I hit a nerve when I asked why Antonio was blackmailing them and if that was why they'd killed him."

  "You said that?" Laura looked shocked.

  "You said that?" Franco echoed her question, but with pride in his sidekick.

  "It was the only way to get her stop blocking the office door. I wanted to shock her, and it worked."

  "Graziella had you trapped in an office?" Laura looked again to Franco for an explanation. "Franco? You said she wouldn't be in any danger!"

  "Laura, dear, it's not Franco's fault. And I found out something important! I could see by their reaction that I was right. Antonio was blackmailing Ernesto, but Graziella knew about it! The only thing that surprised her was that I knew about it."

  "Antonio was blackmailing Ernesto?" Laura thought about that a second, then rounded again on Franco. "You said you'd protect her. You said she wouldn't be in any danger. Now there's blackmail, murder, attempted murder, bruises!"

  "But I wanted to help."

  They were not listening to me.

  "You're right. I let you down, and I'm very sorry." Franco's calm words and manner soothed Laura's anxiety immediately. "But having said that, Bert has been invaluable in this investigation. She's not the novice you think she is. I would never have learned as much, and so quickly, on my own. Italians are not exactly forthcoming with the police. You must know that by now, Laura."

  "If I didn't know it before, I do now, after seeing how Tomaso and his family have behaved," Laura said sadly.

  For the second time since we had returned from the factory, I had the impression Laura was upset about something.

  "I didn't take your investigating seriously, Bert. I thought it was just a diversion. I'm sorry I blamed you, Franco. Please, go ahead and discuss what Bert's learned. It sounds like it could be important."

  Franco looked concerned about Laura, but he did as she asked. "Why pay if your wife already knows everything? I suspect we were wrong about the affair with Cinzia." Franco shook his head and said, "Ernesto's afraid of his wife. He'd never cheat on her, and Cinzia hates Ernesto. That was very clear today. I think that woman at the factory was wrong. It's likely Cinzia was seeing Antonio secretly for quite a while longer than I'd thought."

  "Maybe it was Graziella and her physical anger"—I fingered my bruises—"that killed Antonio. Isn't Graziella's ambition a good motive to kill Antonio and Tomaso?"

  "Possibly," conceded Franco. "Ernesto may have stayed in the vineyard while she went to deal with Antonio."

  Laura joined in, "She saw me as a threat in the beginning. But I explained to her that I had my writing and wasn't interested in the family business."

  "Not long ago, I heard Graziella swear to Bert that she'd do everything to stop your marriage to Tomaso."

  Laura laughed lightly and said, "I don't think there's anything to worry about."

  "She sounded very serious, Laura," I insisted.

  "There's been a murder," Franco reminded Laura, "and as you said, perhaps an attempted murder and blackmail. I believe Graziella's capable of all those things. You ought to end the engagement as soon as you can for your own safety. But promise me you won't end it when you're alone with Tomaso. I don't trust him to take it well."

  "I promise." Laura nervously started to brush out her nearly dry hair.

  I sat forward and took a good look at my friend. "Has something happened to upset you since this morning, Laura?"

  "Would you like me to leave so you can talk?" Franco did not look like he was going anywhere.

  "Please, stay." Laura set down the hairbrush and said, "During the funeral I started thinking that I'm a reporter, and I research things all the time for my work. I thought, Why not do some research on my own life? I had a hunch, so after the funeral I called Donatella. She knows all the restaurant owners in Florence. I had her check with the ones who own the places Tomaso has refused to go with me, for one invented reason or other. Well, it seems he's been seeing someone since before knowing me, often meeting at those restaurants. That relationship's never ended."

  "Bastardo." Franco's one word very clearly expressed his anger.

  "I'm so sorry, Laura."

  "I know I've already decided to end it with him, but it still hurts. I want to thank both of you for helping me see Tomaso clearly." Laura said decisively, "Franco, the investigation is all yours! I'm claiming Bert as a tourist, again. From what I've heard of your police skills," she smiled, "I'm sure you'll wrap everything up in no time, even without Bert's help."

  "I'll do my best. And again, I'm very sorry Bert got hurt today."

  Laura looked at me and said, "It's the price she pays for playing detective."

  *****

  "Tomaso says he's at home taking care of his mother. I suspect it's really the other way around! I told him I'm busy taking care of my mother." Laura put her cellphone away. "Bert, we still have what's left of the afternoon and all the evening. I say, first I fill you up with focaccie, that's pizza bread, from my favorite bakery, then we hit two museums and the Boboli Gardens. After which I'll take you out to dinner at one of my favorite places in Florence."

  "I'm in your hands! But first tell me how Pina's piano lesson went?" Laura had whisked me off sightseeing in Florence soon after Pina and Franco had left her property. At first I had suspected something had gone wrong at the Cecchis, but Laura's buoyant mood was evidence of the opposite.

  "Pina's a natural, and Giusi's in seventh heaven teaching again! She told me you'd suggested it, and she's very grateful."

  "Pina has to practice. She'll need a piano."

  "They can't have one where they live in town. Pina's arranged to practice Sunday mornings at the Cecchis while Giusi's baking her breads. And Pina told her father, 'Babbo, you should swim while I practice piano. You need the exercise.' And I thought she was shy!" Laura laughed.

  "She is shy," I assured her. "I think you're a good influence on her."

  "Like you were on me?" Laura countered quickly.

  I was surprised by the compliment. "You weren't shy. You were angry."

  "I was depressed. You gave me something to look forward to, life." Laura slipped her arm in mine. "Attach, as Donatella says."

  I knew Laura needed time away from the murder and her personal problems, so I threw myself into the art appreciation the museum visits required. The first museum was the Academia, where we saw, among other things, Michelangelo's "David" and his last unfinished works. The second museum we visited was the Uffizi off the main square.

  A scholarly-looking friend of Laura's, Marisa, an art restorer who worked and taught at the museum, was waiting for us at the front desk. For the next two hours, Marisa gave us a private tour. I learned more in those two hours than in all my life reading about art and artists! She ended the tour in the restorers' room, a large, well-lit workroom where several art restorers were busy with various projects.

  "I have to meet an artist now. He's a very famous sculptor, and he pays us to cast his work in bronze. It will only take a few moments. Then I'll take you to the Pitti Palace through the Vasari Passage, just like the Medici used to do!" A woman behind the reception desk called out to Marisa and she hurried off, shouting, "The artist! Amazing! He's on time!"

  Within a few minutes Marisa returned followed by Ovidio Olvidi.

  Ovidio was very surprised, and happy, to see us. "You get to see my work delivered!"

  Laura said, "I thought you'd be with Giovanna, Ovidio."

  "Now? Why? I've had this delivery planned for quite a while. Here it is!"

  We followed him to the loading area and watched the sculpture I had admired in Ovidio's studio removed from the back of the van. Workmen placed it on a moveable platform and rolled it away.

  Laura asked, "You don't know, do you?"

  "Know what?" Ovidio looked impatient to join his work of art.

  "Someone attacked Tomaso at the factory. Giovanna's very upset. She thinks someone's trying to kill all her sons. She back at the house with Tomaso, right now."

  "Giovanna's upset? So much pain for that poor woman!" Ovidio pushed his hand through his hair leaving it mussed. "I must talk to Giovanna and see if she needs me!" With no further thought of his sculpture, Ovidio hurried to the main lobby of the museum.

  "Is Ovidio gone? Oh, well, this way!" Marisa marched us at her tour-guide pace upstairs via a back stairwell. She led us along a corridor until we stood before a small door, which she opened with an oddly shaped key. "From here, we enter the Vasari Passage, the walkway the Medici used to go from the government buildings to their palace on the other side of the river," she explained to me. "Only special guests can use it, and you are special guests!"

  The passage led us along the riverbank, then over the Ponte Vecchio shops to the other side of the river. We walked above homes and offices, peering through small windows periodically to get our bearings. We exited the walkway straight into the Pitti Palace Museum, a former Medici home. Marisa provided us with another private tour of the palace, and then left us on our own to tour the Boboli Gardens. Laura directed our wanderings at a more casual pace.

  Between the rose gardens and the hot houses I was surprised to recall a memory long forgotten, and decided to share it with Laura. "Years ago, I knew a professor of Spanish who'd moved to the U.S. from the Dominican Republic. I thought he was a very kind, attractive, intelligent man."

  "Was this when I was in high school?"

  "About that time, I suppose. Our relationship lasted up to the day he insisted I bring him shopping to buy some new clothes." I laughed at the memory. "It sounds so silly now but it was very serious then. He said I had to do that because that's what women did. His mother did that, all his girlfriends before me did that, and his future wife would, too!"

  Laura laughed. "So, did you go shopping with him?"

  "No, I did not! I told him it was about time he grew up and learned to buy his own clothes."

  "What did he say?"

  My laughter faded away as I answered, "He said it was time for me to learn to be a real woman or I'd be an old maid all my life."

  "That was a terrible thing to say!"

  "I was more angry than hurt. I was angry with myself for not seeing him clearly, earlier. It took something silly like a shopping trip to make me see our insurmountable differences. Our educational level was the same. Our ages were the same. The cultural differences and our character differences made our relationship impossible."

  "That's a lesson I've learned many times during my travels," Laura sighed. "The problem is that it takes a while to learn about another culture."

  "And a while to learn about another person's character," I added.

  "Bert, I want to thank you for helping with the investigation. You were right about my suffering from doubt, but it's not only Tomaso I doubt. When you were investigating, did you think either the Whitehorses or the Bianchis were likely to have killed Antonio?"

  "Is that worrying you?" I asked. "No, Laura, I don't think it likely. You don't suspect them, do you?" I watched as Laura's expression changed from denial to suspicion and then uncertainty.

  "I don't know, anymore! I thought I could trust Tomaso, and I was wrong. I thought I could trust the Bartolinis, and now I'm not sure about any of them! I'm doubting my ability to judge people realistically." Laura's voice wavered with emotion as she said, "I don't want to think that I've made the same mistakes choosing my friends as I have choosing my fiancé."

  "None of them would do anything to hurt you! Just because Tomaso clouded your judgment shouldn't make you mistrust your judgment completely. Tomaso's an accomplished actor, and he set out to deceive you!"

  "I just wish this all ends very soon," said Laura.

  *****

  "All my ex-boyfriends had a long way to go to grow up, Tomaso included."

  We sat in Laura's back garden eating gelato, Italian ice cream, that Laura had bought for us from a café in Montemorello. We had dined at a restaurant on a hill above Florence, and now we were enjoying dessert while watching the last rays of the sun setting on the valley below Laura's estate.

  "You grew up quickly, Laura, out of necessity."

  "I know, but some these men were in their mid-thirties and still going through puberty!"

  "I've met some in their mid-sixties still going through puberty!" I laughed. "You shouldn't look for an older man but for a man who's lived more in his years than others, just like yourself."

  "Franco and I had an interesting phone conversation this morning."

  I saw that Laura had picked up on my description of Franco Tadeucci. "I thought you must have. I noticed a difference in your relationship, today."

  "Franco said you had," laughed Laura. "He said you don't miss much! Last night, you told me to listen to my heart, and when I did I found Franco there. He's been a friend to me since I moved here, but he's not let me be a friend to him. I told him that had to change. I assured him I was staying in Italy, and that once everything was settled, I wanted to see more of him."

  "Very direct!" I said with surprise.

  "That's what he said, and he said he liked my being direct." Laura smiled remembering the conversation. "I told him that with Donatella as my benchmark for directness, I didn't consider myself very direct."

  I recalled Donatella's brusque manner with Franco the evening of Antonio's murder. "I'm sure he agreed with you!"

  "He did! Then we talked about Pina and his police work." Laura paused, and then said, "I need your advice, Bert. When do you think I should tell the Bartolinis that it's over between Tomaso and me? I don't want to put it off, because it's important to settle everything first."

  Laura did not need to explain 'first.' I understood. Before she could consider a relationship with Franco, she had to end everything with Tomaso, and Franco had to solve Antonio's murder. Until then, any relationship other than friendship was on hold. Considering the electricity I had witnessed between the two that morning, I thought they ought to hurry.

  "It seems cruel to pile this on top of Antonio's death and the attack on Tomaso."

  "Cruel for Giovanna, you mean? You're more concerned with hurting Giovanna than with hurting Tomaso," I observed.

  "I am! He's been disloyal to me. I'm not too concerned about hurting him. But poor Giovanna will be crushed if she knows everything! She's so sure Tomaso has changed and grown up."

  "Then wait until you think Giovanna can deal with it."

  "We'll be busy with sightseeing for a while. Franco is still working on the case. I think it can wait for now."

  Laura made up her mind and sounded relieved by the decision to postpone any action. But without being able to put my finger on why, I felt we had just made the wrong decision.

  Friday: Greed and Grudges

  Venerdí: aviditá e vendette

  "What did you tell Tomaso?" I rolled down the car window and let in the fresh morning air.