Page 30 of Bloodlines and Birthright

Maria walked off, but I had one more question. “Er, scusi. Maria.”

She turned. “Si, Professore?”

“Miss Wheeler, please ask her if the boatbuilder had any enemies outside of the village.” At Miss Wheeler’s frown, I added, “She mentioned he had no enemies in Pecco, but I felt as though she was being specific for a reason.”

When Miss Wheeler put the question to Maria, it was clear she didn’t want to answer. She waved us off with a rather vigorous sweeping motion of her hand and went to leave. Miss Wheeler dogged her steps and spoke to her in rapid Italian. Something she said made Maria stop. The older woman shook her head violently then responded.

I caught only one word: Abate.

“Did she say the abbot?” I asked as Maria left.

“Apparently, he was here three days ago. He argued with the boatbuilder, but no one overheard what the argument was about and it wasn’t violent. Maria was reluctant to tell me about it. It was only after I mentioned that if the family is cursed, Signora Colombo could be next. By helping us find the murderer, we could end the curse. Maria seems to believe in curses.”

Oscar and I exchanged glances. We both recalled an incident India and Matt had investigated where a curse had been placed on a toymaker.

Miss Wheeler missed nothing. “Why are you two looking at one another furtively? Are you going to tell me you believe in curses, too?”

“We believe in them because they’re real,” I said. “Curses are a rare branch of magic, quite specific to the Romany people. They can place curses on a human body.”

“The abbot is not Romany.” Miss Wheeler walked off. “And besides, the sort of curse Maria is talking about applies to an entire family. I’m inclined to think the deaths are terribly bad luck in this instance.”

“The child, perhaps,” Oscar said, falling into step with her. “But not Signore Colombo. Luck wasn’t involved there. It was murder.”

“But not premediated.” Miss Wheeler put up her parasol and quickened her steps. “If the murderer brought his own hammer, he would have taken it with him when he departed. He wouldn’t have left it behind. That hammer was used because it was within reach, I’m sure of it.”

They were both walking fast, their steps in perfect synchronicity, and we’d just hit the base of the steep climb out of Pecco. When Oscar realized I’d fallen behind, he stopped to wait for me.

“You go on,” I urged him. “I’ll meet you there.”

“We haven’t discussed where we’re going,” he said.

“No need. We all know our next destination is the abbey.”

“We stay together,” Miss Wheeler said. “There’s a very good chance the murderer is one of the men we saw last night at the boatshed, and if they decide to go after the people who can place them at the scene… Well, we’re safer together.”

“De Angelis,” Oscar muttered. “The Angel. We need to find out more about him.”

“Perhaps the abbot can help. It’s quite a coincidence that De Angelis arrives in Pecco around the same time the abbot is seen arguing with the victim. I’m rather suspicious of coincidences.” Her cool gaze settled on Oscar. “More often than not, they’re a result of careful planning.”

Oscar grunted. “I see you’re not going to forgive me for manipulating our visit to coincide with yours.”

“I will, in time.” She took my arm and we walked off together, her parasol protecting us both from the hot sun.

Oscar moved up alongside her. “In my defense, I’d like to point out that you are having much more fun with us than you would with just Defoe for company.”

“You overstate my pleasure at seeing you again.”

“That may be so, but I’m not overstating your enjoyment of the hunt, Miss Wheeler, and you wouldn’t be investigating the murder if not for us.”

“I suppose it’s true that there is nothing quite as invigorating as a good investigation. Now, I’ve not met the abbot. What’s he like? And how do you propose we get him to talk?”

We arrived at the abbey at the same time as a cart pulled by a donkey. One of the two monks accompanying it was Brother Eduardo, the abbey librarian. He seemed to have some difficulty climbing down from the cart, as if he’d suffered an injury.

His smile was half-hearted, even wary. “Welcome again, Professor, Mr. Barratt. Have you come about another book?”

I introduced Miss Wheeler and informed him that we were yet to locate the previous book we’d discussed. “Unfortunately, Signore Scala sold the books from the abbey, including that volume. We were most disappointed.”

Brother Eduardo’s face fell. “Sold! But…he should not! He did not say he would sell them.”