Chapter 15
I believed the majordomo when he said the Colombo family were devout and would have buried their son with a proper Christian ceremony.
He had no reason to lie. The abbot made that story up when we confronted him over his argument with Giovanni Colombo.
It was the only thing he could think of on the spot that we might believe.
“We will find out what their argument was really about,” I went on. “But only after we confirm the boy is, in fact, dead.”
That stopped Miss Wheeler and Oscar in their tracks. Both stared at me, mouths ajar.
“I don’t think he is.” I held up one finger to present my first piece of evidence. “The majordomo claimed his aunt is going to Signore Colombo’s funeral but did not attend the son’s. Why go to the funeral for one but not the other? Is it because there wasn’t one for the son?”
Oscar removed his hat and scrubbed a hand through his hair as he considered my theory.
“Hence your reasoning that the entire village must be in on the lie. In a village that size, everyone knows everyone. They would be suspicious if there was no funeral, so they had to be included in the lie. Perhaps they’re even helping to hide the boy now. ”
I held up a second finger. “Also, we heard the floorboards creak above us in Signora Colombo’s house.
” I put up a third finger. “And finally, Signora Colombo would be in deep grief for her lost child. Her only child. She seemed more angry than sad, however, and that anger was directed at her deceased husband.”
“Who is most definitely dead,” Oscar added.
Miss Wheeler nodded along. “The abbot’s lie was rooted in truth—the lack of a funeral.”
“It’s just a theory,” I reminded them as we set off again. “Which is why I want to go to Pecco to confirm it before we confront the abbot.”
Miss Wheeler and Oscar set a brisk pace that I couldn’t maintain. Each time they noticed I’d fallen behind, they stopped to wait, but they didn’t always notice immediately. They were so focused on each other that everything else became irrelevant. They were quite at ease as they chatted.
Snippets of their conversation drifted to me on the breeze.
They discussed Italy and England, their thoughts on the politics of magic and how the world had changed in the last few years.
Miss Wheeler listened intently to Oscar’s stories about India and Matt, and how their efforts brought magic into the open.
While their conversation covered a lot of ground, there was a distinct lack of anything too personal.
Oscar touched on his friendship with the Glasses, but did not mention his romantic entanglement with Lady Louisa nor his family squabbles.
Miss Wheeler didn’t discuss her background or family at all.
I knew Oscar wanted to know more about her, so I was a little surprised he didn’t ask.
Perhaps he didn’t want to ruin the comfortable air that had settled around them on the walk.
I caught up to them when they stopped at the top of the steep shortcut through the trees into Pecco.
The ever-present smell of fish struck me on the descent well before we reached the tiny piazza.
As with our other visits, the village seemed almost empty except for a few women going about their business, and small children playing on the shore.
Most of the boats were out, the men with them, but one had been pulled out of the water.
The two men fixing a net stopped what they were doing when they saw us.
Oscar nodded a greeting. The men did not nod back.
The younger one made sure we couldn’t fail to see the knife in his hand.
The village was more on edge after the murder.
No matter what the Carabinieri’s official report claimed, Pecco knew the truth.
Our visit to Signora Colombo on the morning the body was discovered may have led them to suspect we were involved.
“Perhaps this wasn’t a good idea,” I said, keeping an eye on the younger of the two men.
The door next to Signora Colombo’s house opened and Maria emerged. She scolded the men, shooing them with one hand and indicating us with the other. Whatever she said made the men return to their work.
Miss Wheeler greeted her in Italian, thanking her for encouraging the men to leave us alone. That was all I understood. I could only guess that she then went on to ask Maria about the Colombo boy.
Maria didn’t answer at first, but she didn’t seem shocked by the question. She glanced at the Colombo house, then shook her head, defiant. She went to walk off.
Miss Wheeler stepped in front of her. She spoke quickly, her tone imploring. When Maria didn’t answer, Miss Wheeler added a few more words. I recognized ‘London’ as she indicated Oscar and me.
The fishermen once again stopped what they were doing and watched us. The younger one took a few steps in our direction before Maria put a hand up, warding him off.
She replied to Miss Wheeler who then interpreted for us.
“We were both right and wrong. The entire village isn’t party to the lie about the Colombo boy’s death, but Maria is quite sure it is a lie.
The Colombos claimed they conducted a private funeral in the evening and buried him in a secret location, but no one believed them.
Maria thinks he’s still alive, confined to the house by his parents lest he’s seen.
Now it’s just his mother keeping him out of sight, of course. ”
“Does Maria know who they’re hiding the boy from or why?” Oscar asked.
“No. Signora Colombo hasn’t confided in any of her friends or neighbors. Maria says she’s scared.”
“For the child?”
“Yes. Doubly so after the murder of her husband. Maria went to take her some food this morning, but Signora Colombo wouldn’t even open the door.”
My gaze connected with Oscar’s worried one. “Is Maria certain she’s still alive?”
Miss Wheeler posed the question to Maria. The elderly woman clutched the cross around her neck and shrugged her response. Miss Wheeler said a few more words, then informed us she’d told Maria we would check on Signora Colombo.
Maria followed us as we approached her neighbor’s house.
She clutched the cross harder as she murmured into it, repeating the same words over and over.
At first I thought she spoke a spell into the wood, then I realized it was more likely to be a prayer.
There were no wood magicians in Pecco. That’s why Signore Colombo wanted to hire one.
Yet both Oscar and Miss Wheeler had felt magic in the hull of the boat in the boatshed on the night we’d found the body. Had Signore Colombo managed to hire one and the magician had already started working before Colombo’s murder? Or had he found one already living in Pecco?
“How did you encourage her to confide in you about the boy?” Oscar asked Miss Wheeler.
“I promised her we’d help the Colombo family and find Signore Colombo’s killer.”
“I heard you say London.”
“She thinks you’re detectives with the London police.”
“You lied to her?” I asked.
“She’ll never know, and you are going to solve the murder, along with me, of course.”
It was no wonder she and Oscar got along. He would have no compunction about the small lie to get the result he wanted. He was also just as confident.
Unsurprisingly, our knocks weren’t answered. Oscar tried peering through the window, but the curtain was drawn. “I’ll try the back,” he said. “Miss Wheeler, can you ask Maria if I can reach the rear of the houses that way?”
As Miss Wheeler translated his question into Italian, I told Oscar why I thought it was a terrible idea. “What if Signora Colombo has a gun? She might be pointing it at the door as we speak.”
“Where would the widow of a humble boatbuilder get a gun?”
“Anarchists.”
“You think she’s in league with the men who most likely killed her husband?”
“Perhaps he was in league with them. Perhaps they had a falling out and killed him, but they never retrieved his gun.”
“That’s actually a good theory, Gavin. You’re full of them today.” He followed Maria, crooking her finger for us to follow.
“Oscar!” I snapped. “Don’t do anything foolish.”
“I won’t.”
I dogged his steps. “I think this is a bad idea. Miss Wheeler, can you tell him it’s foolish to go inside?”
“It’s foolish to go inside, Mr. Barratt,” she said, her tone flat and not at all convincing. “Just as foolish as it was for you to go upstairs at the villa on your own last night, Professor.”
Oscar placed a hand to his chest and sketched a bow to her without breaking stride. “Thank you for taking my side, Miss Wheeler.”
“I’m taking sides because I don’t believe you’re going in.”
“Oh? What am I going to do?”
“Look through the back window. Might I suggest that you’re more likely to see something, or someone, through the first-floor window.”
Oscar arched his brows at her. “You expect me to scale the wall?”
“If you don’t think you can manage, I’ll do it, although I’d rather not shock Maria. Can you manage, Mr. Barratt?”
“I used to climb trees as a boy, not walls. I suppose we’ll soon find out if I’m capable.”
I threw my hands in the air, exasperated. “Do neither of you understand the consequences?”
Oscar patted my shoulder. “I understand. Do you, Miss Wheeler?”
“Thoroughly understood.” She took my arm.
“It’s not that high, Professor. If he falls, he won’t be too hurt.
As for being caught, I’m more concerned about finding Signora Scala alive at this point.
I do think we should be as silent as possible, just in case someone is inside, holding her hostage.
On the other hand, if she’s holed up with her son by choice, which I think is more likely, then we still ought to be quiet, just in case she is the murderer. I’ve warned Maria not to make a sound.”
Oscar lowered his voice. “You’re well ahead of us both, Miss Wheeler.”
She matched his quiet whisper and said, “There’s a barrow and some crates to stand on. They look new and quite solid.”