Murder On The Rue Cassette (A Serafina Florio Mystery) (4 page)

After the breakfast was served,
Renata was out the door and on her way to La Vucciria. She wanted to prepare a
feast for Serafina and Carmela before their departure, saying she didn’t know
when they’d have another proper meal.

“But we go to Paris, the home of
cuisine,” Carmela said.

“Who told you that?” Carlo
asked, forking in a mouthful of omelet. “What they know of food and love, they
learned from us. But it’s the center of style and color and medicine.” He
shoveled some
biancomangiare
into his mouth. “Are you sure
you won’t need more help? Arcangelo and Teo are youngsters, and what does
Carmela know of stealthy pursuit?”

“Much more than you. I couldn’t
have caught the Ambrosi murderer without her.” Serafina sipped her latté.
“Besides, I don’t know how long we’ll be gone and you’ve got school. It was
your father’s dying wish that you practice medicine. Don’t you dare disappoint
him.”

“Shouldn’t you take me, too?”
Maria asked. “The Hôtel du Louvre has a pianoforte in the lobby played by
Mozart.”

“Does not.” Teo, the orphan who
lived with Serafina, came into the room followed by the nurse carrying the two
youngest members of the household, Teo’s brother and Carmela’s child. “Mozart
played the harpsichord, and the instrument that he played as a child is in the
Palace of Versailles.”

Maria looked like she’d been
slapped. “Who asked you?” She pushed back her chair, crossing her arms. “You
know nothing about anything, you’re not even a part of our family, you’re a
silly orphan, now go away.” She turned to Serafina. “And why does he get to go
to Paris and not me?”

“First, Teo and his brother are
part of our family.” Serafina looked toward Carmela. “Second, this is not a
holiday outing. He and Arcangelo have work to do in this investigation, and I
suggest they’d better get started. We need to find out who’s been following me.
And third, if you cannot be gracious to Teo, go to your room.”

As soon as she said the words,
she’d regretted them. She’d lost control, something she vowed never to do
again. Worse, she’d lost focus. Serafina rubbed her temples. “The success of
this investigation depends on all of us, especially on me and my mind. A
terrible murder has been committed, a deed against humanity. It’s up to me to
find out who killed Elena. If I fail, I’ll never work again, and that will have
dire consequences for all of us.”

There was a hush in the room,
except for the tick of the clock’s pendulum.

“Who was this Elena, anyway?”
Arcangelo asked, coming into the room, followed by Tessa and Rosa.

“Yes, do tell us,” Carlo said,
fetching more chairs for the newcomers.

“Enough, all of you.” Serafina
shot Rosa a look, defying her to say one word. “Elena was Dr. Loffredo’s wife,
the countess of Oltramari. Her body was found yesterday morning on a street in
Paris. Her father, Levi Busacca, has asked me to find her killer.” As Serafina
answered Arcangelo’s question, Maria, her breakfast uneaten, left the room.
Tessa smiled at Teo who scowled back at her and lowered his head into a book.

Chapter
6: The Journey to Paris

The ship’s crew was efficient and
friendly and as a special treat, Arcangelo, Teo, and Tessa were given a tour of
the engine room. There were games on the main deck and plenty of room to
stroll. Even Rosa was impressed with the food. They ate their meals in the
formal dining room with several other travelers, and met a Parisian couple who
offered to take Tessa to the École des Beaux Arts since their son was a student
there, attached to the atelier of Gérôme.

“Not my taste, Mama,” Tessa told
Rosa after the couple had left. “I want to see the new school of painters.”

“We’ll see plenty of those,”
Serafina said. “Many of Elena’s friends are painters, the unconventional kind,
rejected by the Salon. They’re planning a show this month, I know as much from
the last time I saw Loffredo. That’s why Elena wanted him in Paris, my
star-crossed lover.”

Tessa’s eyes widened.

Rosa put down her fork. “Just
you wait, my girl, I took you to Paris for a reason. You and Gesuzza will have
a time going to the shows and the grand department stores, mark me.”

* * *

Representatives of Messageries
Maritimes met Serafina’s party in Marseille and drove them to the Gare St.
Charles where they’d catch the train Busacca called “the PLM,” the “
Companie des chemin de fer de Paris à
Lyon et à la Méditerranée
.”
The station was built on a plateau overlooking the harbor and lower city. It
reminded Serafina of a stony general surveying his troops, but it was not
without its charm, and in spite of a small incident, the hour layover proved to
be a respite. The journey through choppy waters had been tiring and they still
had a long train ride ahead. Before they departed, they’d have time to stroll
the plaza fronting the building. It would be the last real exercise until they
arrived in Paris that evening, so they ambled around the circumference, feeling
the warmth of the sun, marveling at the view, and munching on figs, warm
croissants, and sardines sold by a street vendor.

Carmela, who’d taken charge of
Arcangelo and Teo with the intent of forming a skilled surveillance team,
tapped Serafina on the shoulder. “Don’t turn around, but someone’s following
us, I’m sure of it. No need to tell Rosa.”

“No need to tell Rosa
what
,” the madam demanded. “If you refer to those two louts
following us, I’ve been watching them ever since they hailed a hansom at the
harbor. They’ve been trailing us at a safe distance. And this is the first
you’ve noticed them? Arcangelo failed to find the men who were following Fina
in Oltramari; the three of you will have to do better in Paris.”

Arms folded, one foot tapping
the dusty ground, Carmela opened her mouth to speak, but looked down and kept
her mouth shut for a moment before she managed to say, “You’re right, of
course.”

Serafina frowned. Rosa had a
point, but what had she expected? Her assistants consisted of her children and
a stableboy, not exactly experts in the art of detection. And there hadn’t been
enough time to teach them more than what they knew naturally of stealth.

“We’ll do better, I promise,”
Carmela said.

Serafina smiled at her daughter.
“Are there two men, average in height, the taller of the two wearing a dark
cloak, and the other, a leather jerkin and cap?”

Carmela nodded.

“The same two who followed you
in Oltramari?” Rosa asked.

Serafina shrugged. “As you
pointed out, Teo and Arcangelo didn’t have luck finding them.” She swallowed
and tried to keep her voice from trembling. She considered for a moment, her
head pounding. Who would want her followed? “Let’s slow down,” she said, “and
think this through. We’ve been rushing ever since Friday morning.”

“In Oltramari, the shadows could
have been anywhere in town, but we didn’t have time for a proper search,”
Carmela said. “On the ship we spent every waking moment trying to find them.
Unless they were squirreled in by the crew, they weren’t onboard, I’m sure of
it. We scoured every hold.”

“Then how did they get here?”
Rosa asked.

“There could be two different
sets of men, two different people paying them,” Carmela said.

Serafina looked at the sky and
told herself to remain calm. “We need to confront them. You know what to do.”

Carmela nodded and snapped her
fingers. In seconds Arcangelo and Teo appeared. “How much time do we have?”

Serafina looked at her watch.
“Twenty-five minutes, and I’ll want to talk with the men, at the very least,
listen to their speech and find out what sort of thugs we’re dealing with.”

“Can I go, too?” Tessa asked.
“All I’m doing is sitting around with you two.”

The madam’s first response was
to refuse and there was a row, stomping feet and raised voices. Onlookers
became interested. But when Carmela said that Tessa could help with a
diversionary tactic she’d been thinking of using, Rosa relented.

Rosa and Serafina found a bench
near the entrance and sat enjoying the warmth of the morning sun. If Paris was
as delightful as Marseille, their stay would have its rewards. A young girl
selling carnations came over to them and Rosa bought two, gave one to Serafina
and pinned the other on herself. A breeze from the harbor brought the sharp
scent of fish.

Serafina shielded her eyes with
her hand and looked into the center of the square where the two shadows leaned
against a statue as if in conversation, their attention momentarily arrested by
Carmela and Tessa who just happened to be strolling past the men.

All at once the cap flew off one
of the men and there was a cloud of dust. Instantly, he bent over, clutching
his ear. His companion ran to him, looking over his shoulder at Serafina and
Rosa as they approached.

“I saw you both in Oltramari
yesterday. Your cover is infantile. What do you think you’re doing?” Serafina
asked.

“We’re here for your
protection,” one of the men said in a thick accent as his companion wiped the
blood from his ear.

“I don’t believe you. Who’s
paying you?”

“Can’t tell you who he is, the
boss’ll have my hide if you find out. Been in danger many times and you’ve
pulled through, thanks to us, so you ought to be grateful.”

“Nonsense, we owe you nothing,”
Rosa said. “But I recognize your friend with the ear. I’ve seen him in the
piazza talking to old soldiers.” The journey through choppy waters had been
tiring and they still had a long train ride ahead.

They stared at Serafina but made
no move to leave.

“You can go home and tell your
boss that we don’t need your protection. Leave now or I’ll call the police.”

They watched them disappear. So
they were Palermitans, their clothes too good to be friends of Don Tigro who
had peasants from Oltramari working for him.

“Are they Inspector Colonna’s men?”
Rosa asked.

Serafina shook her head. “He has
nothing to gain.”

“Perhaps a bribe when you
return? I can hear him now. ‘If it weren’t for my men protecting you, you’d
have failed.’ Never forget how crooked the fat inspector can be,” Rosa said.
“And there’s something comic about those two.”

“They’re unprofessional, that’s
for sure, but I fail to see the humor. And they’re deflecting us from our task,
so they do cause harm.” Serafina said nothing more, but thought they might be
hired by Busacca who was having her shadowed, not so much for
protection—he would have mentioned them—but for information. But
why would he do that? She’d promised to send him a report of her progress at
the end of each week. She considered some more and concluded Busacca did not trust
her. He was a businessman protecting his interests. She couldn’t blame him.
After all, she and Loffredo were lovers and he knew it. He’d hired her on the
strength of her reputation for finding killers. She relaxed.

In a few minutes, Carmela and
her group appeared.

Rosa hugged Tessa and told her
how good she was. “A little actress.”

Serafina said nothing more about
the men. They were harmless enough now, perhaps comical as Rosa suggested, but
she feared they might cause harm in the future.

* * *

Serafina watched the landscape
speed by from their first-class compartment, the view blurred by steam and the
strong rays of the setting sun. Unlike the Italian landscape which was craggy
one moment and breathtakingly beautiful the next, the French countryside seemed
all of a piece as the train sped through fields of grain and apple orchards
with mountains in the distance. The land was peaceful, the contours undulating,
and yet there was something mysterious about it. She couldn’t quite put her
finger on it, but it was if they rode across a great stage where nothing was
real. Yes, that was it, the French panorama seemed too good to be true, created
by a designer who understood that style, if displayed to perfection, could be
alive and arresting, could be an expression of a nation’s soul.

They were rolling at top speed
but it seemed as though nothing moved. The train arced and dipped slightly
through planted fields, the acreage vast, the sun a glowing ball sinking toward
the horizon. Peasants bent to their work and a farmer tilled his land with a
plow pulled by four horses while above them, large winged creatures soared and
dipped, their underbellies catching the last rays of the day.

The clack of the wheels, the
sway of the car lulled her into a mindless state. She tried to picture the dead
Elena and the streets of Paris as she, remembered them, all the while ordering
in her mind the steps she must take to find the killer. She looked at her watch
pin. They were to arrive at the Gare de Lyon in a few hours. She was sick of
the train’s lurching movement, but at least it was the last leg of the trip.
She watched Rosa seated opposite her swaying on plush seats and rubbed her
eyes, trying to calculate the distance they’d traveled in less than three days,
close to fifteen hundred kilometers, most of it by steamer.

Glancing down the aisle, she saw
Arcangelo, his hands and face pressed to the window. It was his first trip
abroad. Teo sat beside him reading one of his books. How could he manage
carrying that heavy knapsack on his back, she wondered, filled with his
clothes, his precious knucklebones carved by his father, and several books. She
buried her face in her cape, smelling the sea mixed in with the ghastly fumes
of the train.

“Stop fretting. You’ll find out
about him soon enough,” Rosa muttered. But by the look on her face, Serafina
could tell that her friend hid her fear. Something was wrong, Serafina was sure
of it. Why hadn’t Loffredo sent her news of Elena’s death? Why wasn’t he the
one asking for someone to investigate his wife’s death? On his other trips,
he’d written every day, but this time she hadn’t received one letter.

Toward the end of the ride, the
conductor escorted them to the diner. Unlike their railway at home, there were
tables covered in starched linen, the napkins fanned out at each place.

Two waiters in white tie served
them while bus boys, their hair slicked and wearing long aprons, ran back and
forth with bottles of mineral water. A separate wine was served with each
course. Their group was seated at three tables and the meal was a four course
affair. They began with escargots, followed by their choice of beef with fresh
herbs or duckling with crispy potatoes and asparagus with truffles. The food
was served in china so fine that the candlelight shone through. For dessert
they were served a selection of cheeses, brandy and café for the adults and to
the delight of Tessa, Arcangelo, and Teo, crème glacée. Serafina had to admit
the meal was an event, the food exquisite, and she’d been hungry.

But with the last bite, her
attention was arrested by fleeting light and shade moving at the end of the
car. Staring, she saw the disappearing flap of a leather jerkin. The men who
followed them were beginning to take up more and more room in her mind, the
inscrutable Busacca swimming alongside the disappearance of Loffredo and the
finality of Elena’s death.