hell that could have been, Wolf had no idea.
Wolf thought about a bitter Colorado mountain winter day in middle school when the school bully, Billy Tranchen, and his three buddies stole his brother John’s winter hat. John had slogged all the way home on foot that day, came in the house, grabbed a hat, went to Billy’s house, knocked on the door, asked his mother for Billy, then beat the crap out of him right there in front of his own mother, took the hat back, and left.
Wolf had marveled at that story for years to come, and never even spoke about it with him all but one time. John told him, “The guy had it coming.” And that was that. John Wolf was a tough, stubborn, hard nosed son-of-a- bitch, just like himself, and just like their dad.
Wolf laughed and shook his head, returning to the present moment.
“Look, David,” she said. “I am sorry. I know it must be so difficult to be going through this right now. I can’t imagine having to go through this with one of my brothers. If you say he didn’t kill himself and doesn’t do drugs, and…he was killed instead…then I believe you. We just have to have some very strong evidence to change the minds of those who have already opened and shut this case.”
He pursed his lips, “Let’s just go talk to this Matthew guy and see what we can find out.”
Chapter 18
The Merate observatory was three buildings and two telescope domes sitting on a small hill. Tall spindly pines and an iron fence topped with Roman spear-heads lined the entire perimeter, which looked to be about five or six acres in area. Dense foliage of all types filled in the property surrounding the structures within.
The European Union and Italian flag hung limp from the pole next to the wrought iron gate. Lia jerked off the main road in front of a slow approaching truck and leaned out the window to push the button in one move. A small sign said in English, “Osservatorio Astronomico Di Brera — European Astronomical Society.”
“Pronto?” A male voice crackled through the speaker.
“Caribinieri, possono parlare per un minuto con il dirretore di l’osservatorio?”
“Si, ehh, parla inglese?”
“Yes, I do,” Lia answered.
“Please pull up to the guest parking lot, and I will meet you outside.” The metallic sounding voice was a well mannered English accent.
Two lights flashed yellow as the gate swung jerkily open to the inside. Lia waited patiently, then shot through with precise timing to miss the side view mirrors with an inch to spare.
They parked and got out. Wolf had been studying the foliage of the area, and could only come to the conclusion that nature looked confused. There were palm trees, pine trees with long drooping limbs, stiff spiked trees with red flowers that looked like fruit, large leaved prehistoric looking bushes, pine trees you might see in Colorado, and a variety of exotic looking foliage he’d never seen. The lawn was lush green, full of grasses and thick stemmed wild flowers with tiny yellow and blue bulbs, and was at least a foot tall. One thing was certain, this area got a lot of rain. He noted the haze in the warm, moist air.
The surrounding area seemed densely populated — corn fields lined with dense pockets of apartment buildings and villas of all sizes, much like the entire whole of northern Italy he’d seen so far. Definitely not the best location for observing stars.
A tall, lanky man with thick glasses approached with clicking shoes. He was disheveled looking — pants too tight, too high, and one side of his collared golf shirt tucked in. It looked like he just got done using the bathroom and redressed in haste.
Wolf hoped that wasn’t the case as they shook hands.
“Hello, I’m Stephen Wembly,” he said with precise Queen’s English and a squint-eyed smile. “I’m the director of the observatory. What can I do the honor of helping you with today?”
Lia stepped forward and offered her hand. “Hello, we are looking for an astronomer named Matthew Rosenwald who works here.”
“Oh, yes. Well, he isn’t here. I haven’t seen him all week.”
“Do you mean, he hasn’t been to work all week?” Wolf asked. “Or you just work at different times?”
“I mean he hasn’t been in at all.” Deep lines formed on Wembly’s forehead. “Quite frankly I was wondering if something dreadful had occurred…
“We are very interested in talking with him,” Lia said.
“Well, we can go inside and I could get his phone number for you if you like?” he said. “He hasn’t been answering for me.”
“This is the Zeiss one meter telescope, installed in 1926.” They entered the large dome-ceilinged room. “Light pollution for this area is considerable nowadays, but the telescope will still be used for University of Milan students on clear nights. Otherwise the observatory complex is now a leader in x-ray optics development, and ground-based gamma-ray astronomy.”
The telescope was painted off white and lime green, the paint scheme of a Colorado nineteen fifties house.
Wembly stood beaming at the telescope for a few seconds, then seemed to snap out of his tour guide mode. “Ah, yes, sorry. This way please. I need to get my cell phone from my office.”
They followed closely behind Wembly. The rest of the building they were in was not large by any means outside of the main telescope dome room. Wolf counted five offices through the hall, some with open doors — name tags that read like an international phone book.
Lia got the number from Wembly and called Matthew.
“Dr. Rosenwald is our one and only representative from the southern hemisphere here at the observatory,” Wembly told Wolf, rocking on his heels.
Wolf heard movement from the
Lia was pointing to her phone with the universal
“Vlad! These two are looking for Dr. Rosenwald. I was telling them about how he hasn’t shown up in the last few days.” Wembly turned to Wolf. “This is Dr. Vlad. He knows Dr. Rosenwald on a more personal basis.”
“Uhh, yes, I do not know where he is.” Vlad’s voice was raspy, like he hadn’t used it in a day or two. He cleared his throat for a few seconds.
Vlad was a short, large, and sweaty individual. His jet black facial hair was sporadic, denser on the neck, and had obviously been growing for at least a week. Whether or not he had showered within that same week was a toss-up. Looking at his shining greasy mass of black hair, Wolf would have bet not. His dark gray shirt had darker still finger lined grease stains, undoubtedly from eating the potato chips from the bag splayed on his desk which sat in front of four empty Coke Lite cans. He wore dirty jeans and flip flops. A hand wasn’t offered as introduction, and Wolf thanked Jesus for that.
“Have you talked to him this week at all?” Wolf asked.
“No, I have not.” He shook his head.
His accent sounded similar to Cristina’s. Romanian as well? Eastern European?
Vlad’s shifty eyes darted between Wolf’s clothing, the wall behind him, and Director Wembly. “I have not spoken to him all week.” His glance rested on Wolf’s eyes for a split second before jumping to the wall behind him again.
“So, you know Dr. Rosenwald on a personal basis? Do you guys spend a lot of time with each other?”
“We have gone to have a beer or two after work a few times before,” said Vlad.
“Have you met my brother before? His name is John Wolf?”
“Oh yes, I have.” Vlad’s voice was suddenly quiet.
