L'Oro Verde (22 page)

“You mean that serving the Church is a
whole package, don’t you.” Sister Angela said. “I understand you. But why the
male half of our church has to tell us how we conduct our vocations, I’ll never
know.”

“If you look at them as the male half,
you’ll always find it difficult. I try to see them as the administrative part.
They are dealing with the Church as a business. If we don’t guard our income,
we can’t protect the poor. If those who are inclined to share their wealth with
the Church are wiped out because of how they accumulate and administer their
prosperity, then we no longer have the means to show our friends how to follow
the teachings of Jesus Christ.” The mother superior buttered another piece of
bread and placed it beside her soup. “You haven’t heard any complaints about how
you and the inspector are conducting your investigation lately, Sister, have
you?”

“No. As a matter of fact, everything has
been a bit quiet.”

“Maybe that’s because there are those
who care about you and the people you are trying to protect. Those individuals
are working on your behalf.” She paused to take another sip of her soup. “So if
you’re finished eating, Sister, please don’t sit and wait for me. I know how
busy you are.”

“As long as…” Sister Angela began.

“As long as you show up for the first
teachers’ meeting on the sixth of September at nine-thirty sharp,” she said. “Good
night Sister.”

*

Carlo changed his shirt, still stained
with his sister’s tears, and went to dinner. “Nicola won’t be coming to dinner tonight,
Father.”

“Isn’t she feeling well?”

“No. She’s a little feverish. She’ll
probably feel better tomorrow.”

“And you, Carlo. Did you have a busy
day? Have you finally decided on how you are going to split the crop?”

“Yes. It was very busy, Father. I had
several contracts to discuss and am convinced it’s going to be a productive season.”

“Good. Tell me again about the drupe.
How are they coming? Are the leccinos doing well? I always had to watch them
carefully. They can run into trouble very quickly, you know. Did you fertilize
exactly when I told you to?”

“Yes, Father. The frantoios look healthy.
I always do precisely what you tell me to do.”

“That’s my son. You have always been so
good with the olives. I know you’ll take care of everything when I’m gone,” he
said. “Oh, Gisella called and wanted to know

where you were. I told her you were very
busy and that you would get back to her tonight.”

“Thank you. And what did you do today?”

“I drove myself to the cemetery in
Bologna. I wanted to put some flowers on your mother’s grave.”

“And did they look nice?”

“Yes. She said she was concerned about
you.”

“Me? Why?”

“She thinks you are working too hard for
a start. She also wanted to know about the wedding. Your mother worries that
you aren’t going to be a good husband,” he said, grinning. “But then that’s
something women think about, isn’t it? I miss that around here, what with
Nicola out working all the time at Garibaldi’s slave factory.”

“Thank you for the message, Father. I’ll
work on doing better.”

“Mariella has been particularly busy
lately, you know.”

“Oh?” Carlo said absently, still sipping
his soup.

“She says that Mansuieto is very
active. Like you used to be, Carlo,” he said, chuckling. “She has to chase and
catch him before he gets himself into trouble.”

“Mansuieto?” he asked, swallowing hard.

“Yes, the baby. Mariella is so happy,
having the baby with her, you know. I’ll have to ask her to bring the young
fellow around. I’ll ask her to bring him here for a visit. This house gets so
quiet sometimes. Too quiet, if you ask me.”

His feet on the desk, Inspector DiMarco leaned
back and stretched. It was hot—one of those days when the air did not move. The
doors and windows to the station were open, but the papers did not have to be
anchored down. They lay lifeless on the counters and desktops.

Tortini attempted to set up a fan at the
back of the reception area. Chairs rolling over the cord having frayed it, the
fan was dead. The officer was on his hands and knees plugging it in when a
sudden gust sent a flurry of papers cascading to the floor.

“It works now,” he announced, too late.

Everyone groaned as they joined him to
gather their work.

The nun removed her collar and opened
the top two buttons of her black blouse. She waved her handkerchief and took
another sip of water.

“I have to get Tortini to set up a fan
in here,” DiMarco said. “Leave it to the captain to pick this week to take off.
He seems to be in the know about the weather.”

“You have already missed your holiday,
haven’t you, Alessandro? Weren’t you planning to go to England?”

“Scotland, actually. I’ll bet it’s
beautiful there right now,” he said dreamily. “I had hoped to take in some fishing.”

“Well, this is nearly solved. You and
the family will get to go soon.”

“And what did you think of Carlo? Is he
telling the truth?”

“Yes. I don’t see why he would begin to
believe what Enzo told him, do you? There doesn’t seem to be a good reason to
think Vittorio would do such a thing as reject Bernardo because of his mental
capacity and then leave the business to him.”

“Guilt,” the inspector said. “A remorseful
father might do something out of the ordinary.”

“But he added Bernardo to his will long
ago. Why train Carlo to run it if he intended to give it to the eldest son? It simply
doesn’t make sense.”

“Do you think Carlo is capable of
committing the crime to protect his sister?”

“You mean kill his own brother to
protect Nicola, who’s a young adult already in the workplace? Not even in my
day did a young man murder to protect a sister’s modesty. I think he told her,
maybe even warned them both, but I don’t think he killed her lover.”

“Then that leaves Nicola. Think about
it. Well into the relationship, she suddenly finds out she’s having an affair with
her own brother. She is angry and…”

“And what, Alessandro? Blames Bernardo?
Why? Obviously the young man didn’t know.”

“But they could have argued, Sister. She
may have wanted to leave him, and he wouldn’t let her.”

“This crime was pre-meditated. She
decided to follow him to the church and then walked down to the basement to get
the candlestand, lugging it up the stairs to hit him. I’m not even sure she
knew what was in the basement. The only women who go down there, I believe, are
those in the altar guild. Maybe one of
them
did it.”

The inspector smiled. He knew Sister
Angela well enough and did not take offense at her comments. She was right.
Going after Nicola at this time would probably produce little. If she were told
her relationship with Bernardo had come to an end, she would probably have
lashed out at the messenger, not her lover.

“Maybe the ladies in the altar guild,
then. I’ll have Tortini get me a list.”

The words were hardly out of DiMarco’s
mouth when his officer suddenly appeared in the doorway. Both the nun and the
inspector jumped.

“Inspector, there has just been a call
that the grate from the window at the top of Polini Tower is on the ground,” Lazaro
said, breathless. “Someone is sitting in the opening.”

“Damn kids,” DiMarco said. “Get someone
over there before there’s an accident.”

“No, you don’t understand, sir. One of
the witnesses said she passed Miss Vitali in the stairway on her way down. The
person sitting in the opening is a woman.”

*

“I’m going up the stairs,” Sister Angela
told DiMarco as soon as the car stopped. “You set up something down here to
catch her, if that’s possible.”

“An expert is on his way from Petraggio.
Maybe we should wait until he arrives to talk her down.”

“I’m not waiting for anyone,” she said,
slipping out the car and disappearing through the door at the bottom of the
stairs.

By the fifth flight, Sister Angela was
winded, but knowing she had to hurry, she did not slow down. If the woman was
indeed Nicola, she was serious. Sister Angela had met her only once or twice,
but she was sure of that.

The nun stopped short when she heard the
voice. Bending over to catch her breath, the smell of damp brick filled her
lungs causing her to choke on the dust.

“Stay there! Tell me who you are,” the
voice demanded. The jumper sounded like she was just around the next turn.

“This is Sister Angela. Nicola, please
wait. I need to talk with you.”

“I didn’t kill him if that’s what you
were going to ask.”

The nun could hear a scrape on the
stones. Nicola was either moving in from the window or squeezing her other leg out.

“May I come up? I would rather see you
when I speak with you.”

There was a hesitation.

“I suppose. But stay against the far
wall. I’ll jump if you come too close.”

With perspiration running down the side
of her face, Sister Angela walked slowly up the last ten steps. Hopefully there
would be fresh air coming in through the window. She stopped at the top step
and sat down.

“Are you all right, Sister?”

“Yes. I just need to rest,” she said,
looking at the shaded face of the young woman.

Because of the glare from outside, she
was unable to make out if the sheen on Nicola’s face was perspiration or tears.
The young woman spun around to face outside. A small crowd had formed below.

“Nicola, please tell me why you’re here.
I should have talked to you last week. I made it seem as though the investigation
into Bernardo’s murder was more important than those it affected.”

“Poor Bernardo. Do you know who did it
yet?”

“No. I assume your father didn’t. He
seems to have loved the boy even though he sent him away,” the nun said, talking
fast. “I don’t think it was Carlo. Common sense says he had nothing to fear
from his brother. Carlo also seemed to feel that you were an adult, and while
concerned, he was only there to help.”

“That leaves me, doesn’t it, Sister?”

“I don’t think so. Why would you be
here
?”

“I feel guilty, that’s why. I lied to
you. I murdered him and want to confess to the whole world,” she said, swinging
her arms.

Plaster crumbled from around the frame.

The nun held her breath. “Please be
careful, Nicola. It wouldn’t do for you to fall by accident.”

“It will be as God wishes, Sister.”

“What do you mean, child? God doesn’t
want you to kill yourself. That would indeed be a sin.”

“No. The sins aren’t only here. They are
numerous.”

“Let me see. You fell in love with
someone before you found out he was your brother. That doesn’t sound like one to
me.”

“But when I found out—when we both found
out—we didn’t stop.”

“Surely no one expected you to turn on and
off your feelings just like that.”

“And the baby? I wanted it. I made sure
the bond between Bernardo and me couldn’t be broken—that even if I lost
Bernardo, I would still have a part of him.”

Again the nun’s breath caught in her
throat. “Tell me about it, Nicola.”

“What’s there to say? When I heard we
might be related, I made sure there would be something to keep them from breaking
us up.”

“Who wanted you two to break up, Nicola?
Your father?”

“Yes, and Carlo. Actually, Father was
too busy dealing with Carlo’s marriage. He was trying to cover that up because he
was disappointed in Carlo’s choice.” She laughed. “Just think what he’ll say
when he finds out that I was in love with Bernardo.”

“Carlo said he told you about your
relationship with Bernardo—that you were brother and sister. Was that the first
time you heard it?”

“No. Bernardo and I knew weeks before
that. Enzo warned me. He said that my father would soon find out.”

“Where’s the baby? If you jump, you’ll
kill it too.”

“No, I already killed it,” she said,
inching forward. “What was there to lose? I already murdered Bernardo. I found
the processional cross and hit him on the head.”

“But you didn’t kill him,” Sister Angela
said. “The assailant didn’t use the cross, Nicola.”

The young woman broke down, wiping her
tears with her dirty hands. “But he would still be alive if no one had found
out about it. He tried to stay away from me, but I enticed him. I lured him to
bind us so no one could break us up. Oh my God, how could he have known what I
was leading him to?”

“You lured him back because you loved
him. There’s nothing wrong with that. I don’t believe you had an evil purpose
for it, Nicola. You loved him, and God recognizes that love.”

“But I murdered the baby.”

“When?”

“Two nights ago.”

The nun stood up, but did not approach
her. “Did Enzo help you?” she asked.

“He says he loves me. He was worried
about me.”

“Did he tell you that you shouldn’t keep
the baby?”

“Yes, but he was right. I knew it. The
baby would only bring shame on my family and on itself. I couldn’t bear it if the
baby was treated like Bernardo was.”

“Bernardo was loved by you, Nicola. I
don’t think he ever thought he was treated badly. I knew him. You must have given
him extreme happiness.”

Nicola pulled a foot in through the
window and placed it on the floor.

“And the baby would have felt little
pain with a parent who loved it like you would have. Enzo was wrong to tell you
that. He’s married. If he said he loved you then he’s the one who sinned.”

The nun walked slowly toward the window
and wrapped her arm around the young woman’s shoulder. “Nicola, you tried so
hard to please everyone but forgot about yourself. You have made honest
mistakes, and I’m convinced that God forgives them.”

*

Sister Angela knew it would happen and
hesitated before going to dinner. She was tired. The sun that beat down on
Montriano all day was gone. Huge clouds bloomed in front of it and now covered
it. She could hear the rumble in the distance, heralding the approach of rain.
She should have been relieved, but was not. It should have cooled down, but it
did not.

About a half hour before the evening
meal, Mother Margherita summoned the nun to her office. Washing her face and
neck with cool water and replacing her collar, Sister Angela plodded to the
mother superior’s office. Perhaps she would be able to eat if she faced the
problem first.

He was there, of course, standing
against the opposite wall of the office. “Good evening, Sister,” he said. “I’ve
been informed that you were busy today. I think we should talk about your
misstep before you’re tempted to make the error again. Please sit down. I’m
sure you need the chair more than I do.”

“I’ll just go out and find another,
Father,” Mother Margherita said.

“Good evening to you, Father Sergio,”
Sister Angela said. “Thank you. I must admit, I got more than my usual exercise
and nearly suffered from heatstroke.”

“That might explain it, then. But I
think we should go over how you handled things today just to remind you.”

“Father Sergio, I remember exactly what
I told Nicola and don’t feel the least apologetic for my words.”

“You should have waited for the experts
or at least Father Domenic.”

“There wasn’t time to wait for the
experts. I wasn’t sure how serious she was about her threats. As for Father
Domenic, I’m not convinced a man could have told her what she needed to hear.
It was men who drove her up there in the first place.”

“But you have no authority to tell her
she did not sin, Sister Angela. Only a priest can advise her. There will certainly
be a hearing on your ability to minister outside your vocation, and the
reprimand may also interfere with your availability as a teacher.”

“I never told Miss Vitali she hadn’t
sinned. She herself insisted that she had.”

“You implied it.”

“I told her that God forgives those who
are sorry for their sins. This is what this Church professes, isn’t it?”

“She has murdered a child, Sister
Angela.”

“And it’s up to God to forgive her and
the courts to decide her guilt,” the nun said firmly. “If the bishop wishes to
convene a meeting, I’ll certainly be in attendance. I appreciate your concern,
Father, but I haven’t eaten all day and would like to go to dinner.” The nun stood
and walked out of the office toward the cafeteria. If there was an objection,
she did not hear it. And when she got to the dining room, she found herself
hungry indeed. She picked up a cold pasta salad and a piece of crusty bread. Then
she sat down at a table full of fellow teachers.