I put my arm around Laura and said, "Why don't we go, now. You can call Tomaso later. You don't look well."

  "I don't feel well," she admitted in a whisper. Laura let the Bianchis and I guide her outside without any argument.

  Franco was waiting for us just inside the front gate. "Are you alright, Miss Walton?"

  "Marshal? You're still here!" Laura looked up at him in surprise. "I wanted to apologize for what happened in there. They let their emotions get the better of them. Tomaso was wrong to say the things he did! You're doing your job, and you have to ask these questions. If they'd just told you everything from the start, it would have been so much easier."

  "I'm sorry you're in a position to feel you have to apologize for them."

  "I still think you might be wrong to suspect my guests. Antonio had lots of enemies. He was a gambler and had debts. He offended women and their families. I think his killer could have been let in through the garage gate by Antonio himself."

  "We're investigating all those things. I have the cooperation of the Florence and State police on this case. Please understand, Laura—Miss Walton—I have to rule out all those who we know were on the property at the time of Antonio's death, before I can seriously consider those we don't know were on the property." Franco looked very uncomfortable facing Laura's distress. He looked like he was going to say more, but then suddenly turned and pushed the button to release the security gate.

  Tomaso came up behind Laura and wrapped his arms around her protectively. He said softly, "Don't go, yet."

  Franco Tadeucci left just before Laura pulled away from Tomaso and turned to face him.

  Tomaso continued, "I think we need to get away from everything for a while. I say we go to the Grillaio this evening, just like we'd planned. Aldo, could you let the Whitehorses know? I'll bring Bert and Laura, and we'll meet you there."

  Donatella eyed Tomaso suspiciously.

  Aldo asked, "Laura, is that what you want?"

  "I don't see why not." Laura forced a smile and nodded her agreement. "It might be a good idea, to relax."

  "Good!" Tomaso hugged his tense fiancé and said, "I think you need the relaxation the most!"

  *****

  I had hoped a walk around Laura's estate would settle my overactive mind, but it had not worked. My mind was still racing from thought, to worry, to problem. Mainly, my mind was filled with questions about what I had seen and heard that day. Questions like: Did Tomaso really go looking for Cinzia and find her by the pool? It was a good alibi for a man who only the day before had no alibi. Was Tomaso arranging his alibi with Cinzia when I saw them outside the restaurant in Florence that afternoon? Did he buy an alibi, perhaps offering some of the money Cinzia had lost when her rich fiancé was murdered? Tomaso had even matched his story with what Donatella had seen by the oil shed. Did he suspect she had told her story to the marshal?

  I stopped outside the oil shed and thought about the wooden bar that kept the grindstone in place. The marshal had said that the killer had hit Antonio with it. The bar was heavy, but not too heavy for a woman to lift and use as a weapon. Few women were strong enough to kill a person with their bare hands, so a woman might be more likely to use a weapon to kill. This killer had used two weapons: the wooden bar, and the grindstone. Donatella had been alone near the shed after Tomaso went to the garages. Giovanna had been alone near the shed on her way to the Cecchi's. I was not sure of Cinzia and Anna's whereabouts at the time of the murder, but if Cinzia could be believed, she was near the pool. Giusi and Graziella had only their husbands as alibis.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tomaso enter the property from the garage gate. I stood very still, hidden in the early evening shadows, and watched as Tomaso tried to open the door of a garden shed at the end of the path.

  "Cosa fa?" Cecilio came around the corner from his house and stood squarely in front of Tomaso.

  Tomaso made a hurried excuse in Italian, then ran down the path. Cecilio looked after the young man scurrying away and shook his head in disgust. Tomaso practically ran into me. "Mi scusa! I'm sorry. Did you see that?" he asked nervously. "Cecilio's always angry with me."

  "He's very protective of the property. You shouldn't enter his garden shed without permission." I smiled, hoping to show that I thought nothing of Tomaso's suspicious behavior, which was far from the truth.

  "I thought I heard something inside. Maybe an animal." Tomaso lowered his voice and confided, "I think he can be a violent man."

  I whispered, "Only when protecting his loved ones, and he's very loyal to Laura."

  Tomaso said quickly, "It's only because he is loyal to Laura, that I don't worry about him being here." He offered me his arm. "Laura's waiting."

  We headed down the path to the main house.

  I got a whiff of Tomaso's aftershave. I looked up at the handsome man and wondered again about his character. "Am I going to meet any of your friends while I'm here? I always say, you can learn a lot about a man from the company he keeps."

  "I don't see them much, anymore. They're scapoli, bachelors. Things are very separated in Italy. Bachelors and couples don't mix."

  "I see. As long as it's not because they don't like Americans or Laura."

  "No, that's not it! They like Americans and Laura! They all say I'm a very lucky man. They say she's beautiful, but I don't let them say it too much or I might get jealous!" He laughed a pleasant laugh.

  "She's more than beautiful; she's smart and a good person."

  Once again Tomaso said the right thing. "Yes! That's why I'm so lucky she's to be my wife!"

  *****

  "May I have this dance?" Tomaso offered me his hand.

  "I don't know." I watched the couples dancing with ease over the smooth paving stones in the main square. The sight of women my age kicking up their heels on a polka made me wonder about Cecilio's olive oil. Maybe it really was a wonder drug all Italians used to stay young.

  "It's good for the digestion," Colin Whitehorse insisted.

  Michela laughed and said, "I'm not so sure about that! Not too many twirls, Tomaso. We don't want Bert to feel sick."

  We were seated at the Grillaio restaurant that filled the mountain village's main square with the tantalizing odor of grilled meats. The good food, the music, and the romantic atmosphere in the town square were just what we had needed to relieve the tension of the last two days.

  Tomaso guided me to the edge of the dance floor, and then with a confident hand maneuvered me through the other couples, matching the music in rhythm and speed.

  "You're a wonderful dancer, Tomaso."

  "Thank you. My mother taught me. She taught all of us when we were young. She said it was a way to win a woman's heart. I wish we could have spent more time with my mother growing up, but our father made sure we didn't."

  "What was your father like?"

  "He was very strict, except with Antonio." Tomaso looked sad as he mentioned his little brother.

  "Anna was right, wasn't she? You loved your brother despite the arguments."

  "Of course, I loved him. I feel very guilty about Antonio. I should have guided him better in life. He was so wild. My father encouraged it in him."

  "I doubt you could have altered Antonio. I don't think even a good woman could have changed him." I had wanted to lessen Tomaso's guilt, but my words seemed to have had the opposite effect.

  "I was just thinking of poor Cinzia. She's very," he searched for the right word, "introverted, I think you call it. She doesn't have friends, or a father, or brothers to confide in, so she often turns to me. I'm like a big brother for her. That's why I went looking for her yesterday."

  It seemed that the relationship I had imagined between Tomaso and Cinzia was true. "Did she listen to you?"

  "Listen to me? Oh, not really. She cared for Antonio, and now, she's very upset by his death." Tomaso stopped dancing. "Something's wrong with Laura!"

  It was not until we got to our table that I saw what tall Tomaso had seen from the dance floor. Donatella and Laura were having a heated argument. Aldo was trying to silence his wife. Michela had an arm over Laura's shoulders and was trying to calm her down.

  "What did you say to Laura?" Tomaso asked sharply of Donatella.

  "I told Laura what I told the marshal, that I saw you go to the oil shed."

  Tomaso glared at Donatella. "I explained why I went there, but I didn't go inside."

  "I think you didn't go inside then, because you saw me." Donatella looked at him suspiciously. "I think you went back after I was gone."

  "But I didn't see you!"

  Donatella turned to Colin and Michela and asked pointedly, "Did either of you see Tomaso when you went to the garage?"

  Neither answered her question.

  Donatella insisted, "You went straight to the garage and drove to some shop, you said. You would have seen Tomaso if he was there! If you didn't, it means he went back to the shed!"

  "We couldn't have seen him," Michela said softly.

  Colin explained, "The truth is we didn't go straight to the garage from the house. We took a walk on the property before leaving, and we saw no one, anywhere."

  Tomaso said what we were all thinking. "You were on the property when Antonio was killed. You're suspects, too."

  "That's enough!" Aldo intervened. "We're not supposed to think about these things tonight. Look at the state we're in!"

  "It's Tadeucci's fault! He's making us suspicious of each other!"

  To Tomaso's surprise, it was Laura who came to the policeman's defense. "He's doing his job. He has to check into us because we were there, but he's checking other possibilities, too. He's a fair man."

  "I agree," I added my support of Laura and the marshal. "He's a fair man, and he's right to suspect everyone until he's arrested the killer."

  Laura's friends agreed, too.

  Tomaso was outnumbered. "I suppose you're right," he conceded reluctantly. "Tadeucci will see, sooner or later, that none of us had anything to do with poor Antonio's death. I agree with Aldo. We shouldn't talk about this again, tonight. I think we should dance." Tomaso offered his hand to a still distraught Laura and they disappeared into the crowd.

  Colin and Michela, and then Aldo and a reluctant Donatella, followed them onto the dance floor. I watched as they passed from time to time in front of me, each time more relaxed than the previous pass. I caught sight of Laura and Tomaso, and was struck by the couple's beauty. They looked very good together. I wondered if perhaps I was suspicious of Tomaso because he seemed too perfect.

  *****

  "I'll see you to your door, Laura." Tomaso insisted a second time.

  "I'm going straight to bed. I'm done in."

  "I know, I just want to see you safely to your door."

  Laura gave in the third time. Tomaso and Laura escorted me to my cottage, and then they continued down the path together. I quickly readied for bed, exhausted by the long and busy day. I switched off the light and crawled between the covers. I listened to the crunch of Tomaso's shoes on the gravel path outside my window as he made his way back to his car. I waited to hear the clank of the garage gate, but instead I heard the latch on the garden shed door, the same door Tomaso had tried to open earlier that evening.

  Was there another suspicious noise in the shed? I wondered if there had ever been a suspicious noise in the shed. What was Tomaso doing in there? I heard the shed latch slide into place, and then seconds later the garage gate clanked shut. As I listened to Tomaso's car pull away, all my suspicions about Laura's fiancé came flooding back, stronger than ever.

  Wednesday: Secrets and Lies

  Mercoledí: segreti e bugie

  "American coffee." I called out to Laura, as I set the coffee pot and mugs on the poolside table.

  Laura waved hello and climbed from the pool. She put on her robe and joined me. "I woke up early and couldn't get back to sleep. I thought a swim might help." She served herself a cup of coffee. "I went to sleep a partial wreak and woke up this morning a complete wreak!" Laura laughed at her own weakness.

  "I think the murder is taking its toll on me, too. I woke up hoping for a touristy day."

  "You worry too much about me, Bert. Tomaso was worried, too, last night, but I wanted to be alone."

  I watched as Laura pushed all the troubling emotions aside and focused on her guest.

  "You do need a break today! I've arranged the perfect outing for you." Laura's eyes sparkled as she said, "Colin wants to show off his library, well, the British Council's library, and Michela has offered to treat you to lunch and a concert."

  "Sounds wonderful!"

  "You'll be on your own with the Whitehorses. I have some errands to run. I've decided to cancel the wedding."

  "You don't sound very sorry."

  My observation appeared to upset Laura more than having to cancel the wedding. "It's just a postponement. We'll reschedule for sometime later, leaving lots of time after Antonio's funeral. The funeral is tomorrow, by the way. You don't have to be there. The family will understand. You barely knew him."

  "Do you want me there, Laura?"

  Laura smiled. "Thank you, but I'll get through." The smile did not last long.

  "I'd like some time to play tourist in Florence, if I may? I can go early, by train, and then find the library on my own."

  This suggestion took Laura by surprise. "Brave woman! I'll set you up with the map, the phone, and I'll even put you on the right train."

  "Is something else bothering you, Laura?" I thought she seemed very anxious.

  "I'm meeting Pina Tadeucci later today for that interview, at their place, but I don't want to see her father!" Laura nervously adjusted her robe around her. "The more I think about it, the more upset I get that he may suspect Tomaso, or Giovanna, or the others."

  I suspected Tomaso and Giovanna, as well as Donatella, Aldo, Colin, Michela—well, everyone—so I said nothing about that. "Don't be too hard on our marshal. Sometimes policemen say things they don't mean just to provoke reactions. They can tell a lot that way, not just guilt or innocence, but about relationships."

  Laura looked at me curiously. "Since when are you an expert on police procedure?"

  "I'm not!" I laughed.

  "Yesterday was awful, when Franco read out that message of Tomaso's. If I'd known, I'd have explained it to him in the morning, but Tomaso didn't tell me anything." Laura stopped there and shook her head in disappointment.

  I suspected that a comparison of the two men the day before, and the day of the murder, had pointed up Tomaso's immaturity and lack of self-control, and Franco's maturity and exceptional self-control. Even if Tomaso did make it through this experience in one piece, I doubted Laura would see him in quite the same light. I thought a change of subject was a good idea to stop her from brooding. "Tell me about Cinzia and Anna. Anna said she's known the Bartolinis for years."

  The new subject seemed to interest Laura. "Anna and Giovanna grew up in the same village not far from here. Anna had moved there with her parents when she was very young, refugees from Yugoslavia."

  "That explains her coloring. She doesn't look Italian."

  "No. Well, she looks Triestina, a woman from Trieste. She's from that area. It's Slavic. It's gone back and forth between Italy and Yugoslavia for years."

  "What about Cinzia's father?"

  "Graziella loves to tell tales, so she gave me all the gossip. It was something about a cousin from Yugoslavia who stopped on his way to South America. He emigrated and that was the last they ever heard of him. Anna went to work for Giovanna soon after Cinzia was born. They moved into the Bartolini home only after Giovanna's husband died, but they had spent lots of time there before that."

  "Cinzia's so terrible to her mother."

  Laura nodded her agreement. "She may hold a grudge because an illegitimate child in Italy doesn't have an easy life."

  "No matter how difficult it is, I bet it's worse for the woman who gives birth to an illegitimate child! But I suppose a grown woman can deal with the hostility better than a child can."

  "Childhood hurts can leave big scars. I know all about that." Laura spoke with heartfelt sympathy for Cinzia. "I've always thought it would've been better for her to stay away after her schooling to get a fresh start someplace else, but the pull of the family can be strong. She's a part of that family, even if only by informal adoption. Maybe she wanted to marry Antonio to make it more formal."

  "You don't think she loved him?" I asked. I recalled that one of the traits that had made me take an interest in Laura all those years ago, was Laura's ability to see through events to the kernel of truth at their center. That skill was what had made Laura so successful as a journalist and as a travel writer.

  "I don't know. Love can be superficial or profound. Only time shows us which is which."

  I agreed, but noticed that Laura was not listening to me. She was looking inward. I wondered if Laura was realizing that the time she had bought by postponing her wedding, was time she needed to see what kind of love she had for Tomaso.

  *****

  I watched from the window of my train compartment as apartment blocks and city streets eventually replaced the farms and villages. The train carriage lurched right, and then left, switching tracks again and again until it was on a direct route to Florence Central Station. Eventually it came to a screeching halt. I followed the other passengers as they rushed along the platform to the terminal building.

  The terminal was just as Laura had described it. The floors, the walls, the counters, even the newsstand, were covered in marble. The station echoed with the sounds of trains braking, people talking, espresso machines spurting out coffee for busy travelers, and the crackling announcements in Italian of trains departing and arriving. I decided that airports were dull, carpeted waiting rooms compared to the diesel-fumed hubbub of a busy train station.