“Shall we split a fiorentina?” asked Beppo, “I haven’t had a good steak since my last visit to Florence.”
“I could go for that,” said Rick, “the steak I had last night only whetted my appetite for red meat.”
Erica quickly agreed, so the second course was set; now for the all-important pasta decision. Erica opted for soup, a simple tomato, but the two men needed something more substantial. For Rick it was pici, a freshly rolled and cut Tuscan pasta, but with a meat sauce instead of the traditional garlic and bread crumbs. Beppo opted for paglia e fieno, cream sauce tossed with a mix of spinach and semolina fettuccini which really looked like hay and straw. Decisions made and wineglasses clinked, conversation turned back to what could not be avoided. Rick began.
“Erica, you have to tell us, was your stumble an accident, or did you fall on purpose so you could trip Dario?” He wondered if he’d made a mistake to bring it up, but he needn’t have worried.
She smiled and sipped from her wine, a smooth white. “How could you think it was anything but an accidental fall, Ricky?” The normal Erica, full of mystery, had returned.
“That answers my question. Sei brava.” He tapped her wine glass with his. “But let the record show that I was about to fall upon Dario and wrestle his gun away. I can never hold myself back when there is a damsel in distress, especially one—”
“Ricky, we shouldn’t be joking about it,” interrupted Erica. “I will never forget the look on poor Donatella’s face.”
“She was just as guilty of Canopo’s murder as Dario,” said Beppo softly. “It was she who ordered him to do something to the man.”
“But I can’t believe she really thought Dario would kill him. Scare him, yes, murder him no.” She took another drink of wine, more than a sip.
“That may be her defense,” said Beppo, “but with the murder and her whole operation of fake antiquities, she should be spending quite of bit of time behind bars.”
Rick thought it was time to shift the talk away from Erica’s friend. Or more accurately, former friend. “I have to say that I’m relieved that Polpetto is free of illegal activity. I kind of liked the guy.”
“You just feel bad that he was being betrayed by his secretary,” said Erica. “That’s just the reaction I would expect from a man.” She shook her head slowly with dramatic disgust.
At least she didn’t say “a man like you,” thought Rick. It was something.
“By betrayal are you two referring to Claretta trying to send business to her boyfriend?” asked Beppo. “Or just that she had a boyfriend?”
“I meant both, I guess,” answered Rick as he pulled a bread stick from the basket.
“You two seem to have overlooked,” added Erica, “that Polpetto was cheating on his wife himself.”
“Significant,” Beppo said, “that the woman in our midst brings up that minor detail.”
“So,” said Rick, “if we hang poor Polpetto with that peccadillo, the only one of our original group of suspects without sin is apparently Signor Landi. And he was the one I always suspected to be the main culprit. I will not quit my day job to become a detective.”
“Good,” said Erica and Beppo simultaneously, followed by general laughter.
“But one thing about Landi,” said Beppo, once they all had regained their composure. “He has to work on his hiring skills. Two of his employees, Canopo and Malandro, were secretly working for Zerbino.”
“Good point,” said Rick. “That couldn’t have helped productivity.” He refreshed all their wine glasses and held up the empty bottle to the waiter who was passing their table at that moment. “Subito,” was the man’s reply as he whisked the bottle from the raised hand. Rick approved the service. “Give this guy a good tip, Beppo. But something else has been nagging me since we left the amphitheater. What about the interplay between Dario and the detective? At first I thought that Dario’s reaction to LoGuercio was because of his revulsion to arrest, and being taken in by a rookie cop would be especially grating.”
“LoGuercio is relatively new,” said Beppo as he pulled another piece of crusty bread from the basket, “but the way you described it to me, Dario was reacting to the person who was going to arrest his boss. He couldn’t have been pleased by that possibility.”
“That was my sense,” said Erica. “I don’t know much about criminals, but his loyalty to Donatella seemed far beyond the usual relationship of someone to his boss. I felt it from the moment they picked me up in the car.”
“I got that feeling too when I visited her villa, but the interplay this morning still seemed a bit strange. It was as if Dario knew LoGuercio.”
“And the cop shot him to keep him quiet?”
“I didn’t want to say that, Beppo, but now that you bring it up, it did cross my mind. Conti had a funny look on his face when LoGuercio shot the man.”
“We all did, Ricky” said Erica. “Did you see that other cop with Conti? I thought he was going to faint.”
“Yes, I guess you’re right, it’s just that—”
He was interrupted by the arrival of the first courses. Starting with Erica’s soup, they were placed in front of the three diners, and after the traditional wishes of buon appetito, cheese was sprinkled on the pasta and utensils were lifted. Following the initial tastes Beppo continued the conversation.
“I can assure you, Rick, that LoGuercio did not know Dario. He only arrived here a few weeks ago from Sicily. I find it surprising that someone who is the nephew of a prominent policeman would conclude that a
