Read Murder at the Cooking School: Book 7 of the Cedar Bay Cozy Mystery Series Online
Authors: Dianne Harman
Kelly thoroughly enjoyed the drive
into Florence. It was like a step back in time. The driver told the students he
was taking the old road into Florence since it was more scenic and provided
many interesting things to see. He said they’d come back on the newer highway,
but he thought they’d enjoy the quaint views the old road provided. He was
absolutely right. They passed through numerous little villages with old
churches and stone castles visible in the distance and miles of vineyards and
olive groves. At one point the van stopped to let a shepherd and his sheep
cross the road. Kelly watched the sheepdog herd his charges as they crossed the
road. The dog looked in both directions first, and only when he was sure no
cars were coming would he allow them to cross the road.
Everywhere they looked
another jewel was unearthed such as villages with walls that had been there for
centuries. Sunflower fields in full golden bloom were next to green vineyards
and olive groves. Beech and chestnut trees dotted the landscape. Kelly
understood why chestnut soup had been served the other night. Evidently the nut
was very abundant in the area, and the chef had mentioned that Italians like to
use what they grow. In the distance she saw medieval towers that looked like
sentinels protecting what was in the realm below them.
Dramatic
, she thought.
There is
no other word that can do justice to what I’m seeing. It is just unbelievably
dramatic.
The closer they got to
Florence the heavier the traffic became, and once they were in Florence it was
like being in every other large city in the world. Too many cars trying to fit
into streets that had never been designed for them.
Chef Bianchi began to speak,
“In a few moments we will be at the market, but before we get there I want to
point out a couple of things of interest to you. In the distance you can see
the red tiled dome of the
Duomo
or the Cathedral de Santa Maria dei
Fiori. I’m sure you’ve all heard about it but in case you haven’t, it took one
hundred seventy years to build, and it is famous for its pink and green marble.
I know some of you are going to spend time in Florence when you leave the
Castello
di Nardo,
and I hope you’ll spend some time at the
Duomo
. There is
nothing else like it anywhere in the world.
“The second thing I want
to point out is the
Ponte Vecchio
. You can see this ancient bridge in
the distance where it spans the Arno River. It withstood the German invasion in
World War II and also the overflowing flood waters of the Arno River on several
occasions. Until 1218 it was the only bridge that crossed the Arno. There had
always been shops on the bridge, such as butchers and others, but in 1593
Ferdinand I decreed that from then on only goldsmiths and jewelers would be
allowed to have shops there. He said it would help the people. I think the only
thing it helps now,” she said laughing, “are the shopkeepers who cater to the
tourists. The bridge is known all over the world for its gold and jewelry
shops, and I venture to say that most of the tourists who come here buy
something from the shops.”
Well I’m going to be one
of them,
Kelly
thought
, and I don’t care how schmaltzy it is. I’m going to remember how
beautiful this area is and how wonderful the food was every time I wear
whatever it is Mike’s going to buy me.
Chef Bianchi resumed
speaking, “The building we are now approaching is the
Mercato Centrale.
If we become separated, we will meet at four-thirty next to the bronze boar statue
you can see next to the entrance. No matter what your food preferences may be,
you will find them here. I hope you brought a camera, because this market
really is amazing. I believe this is a place for people to explore on their
own, so while I will be with you, I won’t be conducting a tour as such, but
feel free to ask me any questions you might have. I’ll be happy to interpret
for you if you wish to speak to a shopkeeper. Oh, one other thing. The
shopkeepers will call out to you with their specials of the day, and if you
want to buy something, keep in mind that haggling is considered an art here. It
is rare to ever pay the asking price of anything here at the market. Have fun.”
Kelly had never been
comfortable traveling in groups, so while the rest of the students slowly moved
as a group from stall to stall, she walked up the stairs to the second floor
and began exploring the vast array of food that seemed to stretch endlessly.
Chef Bianchi was absolutely right. No matter what kind of food you wanted, the
Mercato
had it, and probably in all the varieties in which it could be made. For the
next two hours, she explored shops that ranged from ones that specialized in
salty Tuscan prosciutto to shops that specialized in sheep’s milk cheeses.
There were pastas of every kind, dried and fresh, as well as more loaves of
every kind of bread than she had ever seen in her life displayed on simple
wooden shelves and in barrels. She was glad she’d visited the second floor
first because most of the stalls that sold food to go were there. Since she was
still relatively full from lunch, even though everything tempted her, she
didn’t buy anything to eat.
Quite some time later
Kelly looked at her watch and realized she only had a few more minutes before
she was to meet up with the group. She wandered into a produce section on the
first floor, and seeing some produce she had never seen before, asked the woman
working in the stall what kinds of vegetables she was selling. She asked the
question in English as most of the shopkeepers spoke English well enough to
converse with the tourists, but this woman replied, “I no speak English.”
Kelly switched to Italian
and learned that the woman was filling in for her sister who had become ill
that morning. She told Kelly about the various different vegetables that were
on display and how to cook them. They talked to each other for several minutes.
As Kelly turned to leave she saw Chef Bianchi walking out of an adjacent stall
and hurrying towards the entrance. She looked back at Kelly with a perplexed
look on her face.
That’s strange. It’s
almost as if she didn’t want me to see her. Wonder what that’s all about. Oh
well, time to go.
The students arrived back at the
castle about six o’clock, and just as he had done the day before, Caesar was
waiting for Kelly by the front door to the castle. As soon as she stepped out
of the van, he loped over to her, covering her with wet kisses. “I’m glad to
see you, too, big guy.”
She bent down and petted
him while the other students and the chef went into the castle. Kelly stood up,
intending to follow them, but something stopped her. She faintly heard what
sounded like angry voices coming from the direction where the Nardos resided in
the castle. Kelly looked around and didn’t see anyone. Nonchalantly she
strolled over to where three olive trees stood next to the window of the
Signor’
s
living quarters and stepped behind them. “Caesar, come,” she whispered. The big
dog followed her. She gave him a hand movement, and he sat down.
The voices she’d heard
were male voices, and she could just make out what they were saying.
“Now that my sister is
dead, this castle is rightfully mine, and I’m going to file a lawsuit to get it
and have you thrown off the property.”
That must be Salvadore
Nardo, the chef’s husband
, Kelly thought.
A second man Kelly was
pretty sure was
Signor
Nardo responded. “What are you talking about? As
her husband, Tonia willed the property to me. We both made Wills several years
ago that designated the other one as the sole beneficiary of our property. I
intend to file the papers tomorrow. Tonia didn’t believe in maudlin funerals,
so I had her remains cremated. Now I can get on with what must be done. The
police chief wants to talk to me, but I know nothing about her death. What I do
know is that the
Castello di Nardo
is mine, and I want you to get off of
my land. I don’t know what ever made you think you had any right to the land in
the first place.”
“It is the land of my
ancestors. The Nardos have owned this land for centuries. My mother told me
when she and my father were making out their Wills and giving the land to Tonia
that they had put a clause in the Wills stipulating if anything ever happened
to her, the property would go to the closest person who was a Nardo. That would
be me. There is no one else who should inherit that property. The castle is
mine.”
“You fool,” Stefano
laughed mockingly. “Your mother told you that just to keep you from making a
huge scene when Tonia inherited it. I know they gave you a great deal of money
to make up for it. Tonia told me you lost it all because of gambling. There is
not and never was a document stipulating that you or any other Nardo should
have the castle and the land. Tonia named me as her sole beneficiary. I looked
at the Will last night, and it said something to the effect that no one other
than Stefano Drago, who has taken the Nardo name, shall inherit any part of the
Castello di Nardo
.”
“So who did she hire to
draw up the Will? Was it Giovanni Rizzo?”
“Why do you ask?” Signor
Nardo said in a steely voice.
“If he drew it up, you can
plan on it that he doctored the Will so it wouldn’t show that I should have the
property if anything happened to Tonia.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Everyone knows that he
and Tonia were having an affair. If you didn’t know about it, you’re the fool,
not me.”
“Let me tell you a couple
of things. First of all Tonia hired a lawyer in Florence to draw up our Wills.
Secondly, whether or not she was having an affair with Giovanni Rizzo makes no
difference to me. Our marriage had become nothing more than a marriage of
convenience. If she was having an affair with Giovanni, so be it. I have had my
share of affairs. She’s dead now, and it really doesn’t matter, but I’m not
dead, and I am the one she named as her heir. I’ve had enough. Get out of my
house and off of my property, or I will call the police chief and have you
arrested. There will be no reading of the Will, since I am the only heir. Let
me write down the name and phone number of her attorney, and you can confirm it
with him. I’ll call him and tell him I told you to call and ask if you are
named in the Will as a beneficiary. Once the Will is filed with the court it
will be public knowledge. Here’s his name and phone number.”
“You do that, but let me
tell you one thing. Your loving wife was having an affair with Giovanni Rizzo.
Everybody knew about it and referred to you as a cuckold. Yes, you’re the one
who’s the fool. Why do you think Tonia hired Luisa to be the chef at her
cooking school? We both know she’s a good cook but hardly the best in Italy. I
told Tonia if she didn’t hire Luisa, I would tell you about the affair. That’s
why Tonia agreed to hire Luisa. It had nothing to do with Lucia’s cooking skills,
although she does seem to be doing a good job as the chef at the school.”
With those words,
Salvadore grabbed the piece of paper out of Stefano’s hand and stomped out of
his living quarters. It happened so quickly that there was nothing Kelly could
do but hope he was angry enough he’d go directly to his car and not see her
hiding behind the trees. She was in luck. A few minutes later she heard a car
driving rapidly down the lane to the highway. She stayed there for several
minutes trying to digest what she’d just heard.
I’ve got to tell Mike
about this. Evidently the Signora’s brother thought he was going to inherit the
property if Tonia died. If he thought that, it makes him a suspect, because he
would have a very good reason to murder her. Mike always says to figure out who
has the most to gain from the murder. It looks like a lot of people thought
they would gain something if she died. Signor Nardo says he’s the one who will
inherit the property. If Signora Nardo did deed the property over to Giovanni
Rizzo prior to her death, he would wind up owning the property. I can’t forget
about Signora Rizzo. She wouldn’t get the property, but she’d probably get her
husband back if Tonia was dead. And last but not least, there’s Berto Moretti.
He wouldn’t be getting the property either, but he’d be getting rid of his
competition. Why can’t Mike ever get a case where there’s just one suspect?
She looked around and
didn’t see anyone. “Caesar, let’s go.” The big dog had been sitting next to her
and waiting for direction from her. At her words he stood up and followed her
into the castle and up to her room.
He’s got to be wrong,
Salvadore thought
, as
he drove as fast as he could back to the small village. I know mother wouldn’t
lie to me. The castle rightfully belongs to me. Lucia and I will be living
there soon. Stefano is trying to get me to give up my rightful claim to the
Castello di Nardo. I’m the one who is a true Nardo, not him. That wimp even
took the name of Nardo to please Tonia. I’ll call the lawyer as soon as I get
back to the house, and I know he’ll tell me that I’m the one who will inherit
the castle. I’m surprised he hasn’t already called. Yes, Stefano is just trying
to scare me, so I won’t make a claim on the property. I’ll have good news for
Luisa when I talk to her tonight. She told me to call her after my meeting with
Stefano.
He parked his
old car next to the weed infested yard in front of their house, and walked up
the broken sidewalk to the front door.
Sure will be glad to get out of this
dump. It’s a far cry from a castle, that’s for sure.
Salvadore walked
quickly to the kitchen and opened the freezer, taking out an icy bottle of
grappa. He uncapped it and drank it straight.
That’s how the peasants do it.
Guess I’m a peasant now, but that will all change when I have peasants working
for me in the castle. I’ll be drinking aged grappa out of a special cognac
glass. No more unaged grappa for me.
He wiped his mouth with the back of
his hand and poured some grappa into a dirty glass.
The warmth of
the grappa relaxed him, and he took the piece of paper with the name of the
lawyer from the pocket of his simple grey shirt. The shirt and the black pants
he wore were the best clothes he had, and he’d wanted to look like he belonged
in the castle when he’d visited his brother-in-law.
Salvadore sat
down at the small kitchen table in the room which also served as their dining
room and living room. Besides the front door that led into the room there were
two other doors. One door led to their bedroom, and the other door led to a
small bathroom which had a leaky shower and a toilet that seemingly never
stopped running. Every time Salvadore used it, he thought about how it needed
to be fixed. He’d usually feel bad after going in there and needed a small
little glass of grappa so he’d feel better. He knew a lot of things needed to
be done to the little house, but there was never any extra money to do them,
and like he’d told Luisa, he couldn’t work because of his back.
He picked up
the phone and held it to his ear as his shaky hand dialed the number on the
paper. In a moment a young woman answered the phone. “This is the law office of
Signo
r Conti. How may I direct your call?”
“I would like
to speak with
Signor
Conti. Is he available?”
“
Si
.
May I tell him who is calling?”
“Tell him it’s
Signor
Nardo, Tonia Nardo’s brother.”
“He’ll be with
you in a moment,
Signor
.”
Salvadore
picked up the glass of grappa and drained it as he waited for
Signor
Conti to come on the line. In a few moments, a voice said, “
Signor
Nardo, this is
Signor Conti
. How may I help you?”
“My sister,
Tonia Nardo, died a few days ago. I was told by our mother that if anything
ever happened to Tonia, the castle was to revert to her nearest Nardo relative,
which would be me. I understand you wrote her Will.”
Signor
Conti hesitated a moment.
“Normally, I would not reveal the contents of a Will until it has been filed
with the Court, but with her death there is no longer an attorney-client
relationship. Her husband,
Signor
Nardo, or as he is also known, Stefano
Drago, inherits the
Castello di Nardo
and everything in it. She named
him as her sole beneficiary.”
“No, that
can’t be,” Salvadore said in an agitated voice. “My mother told me a clause had
been put in my father’s and her Wills that stipulated if anything happened to
Tonia the castle would revert to me. It simply can’t be.”
Signor
Conti took a deep breath
and began to speak. “I’m sorry,
Signor
Nardo, but there was no such
stipulation in your parents’ Wills. I drew them up, and I also drew up Tonia’s
Will. Your parents’ Wills were filed with the court when they died in the
automobile accident, and I processed the estate which they willed to Tonia.
Tonia left everything to her husband. I’m sorry you were given this
misinformation, but I remember your mother telling me something about it. I
believe she told me, and forgive me, that you had a gambling problem, and she
didn’t want the castle to be sold because of your debts. She told me that she
had told you it would revert to you, but she also told me that she said that
only to placate you. As I recall, you inherited quite a large sum of money when
your parents died. Your parents felt that if you gave up gambling and were
gainfully employed, Tonia would do something to help you, and she was told that
by them. Since Tonia never mentioned she was helping you, I can only assume
your situation hasn’t changed.”
“So what
you’re telling me is that I get nothing, and that silly fool my sister married
gets everything. Is that right?”
“If you prefer
to look at it that way, you are correct. Again, I’m sorry that you’ve thought
you would inherit something all these years. I’m going to have to end this
conversation, because I’m due in court in a few minutes. Thank you for calling
and good luck to you.” With that, he ended the call.
Salvadore sat
with the phone in his hand, stunned.
Stefano was right. I get nothing
.
He hung up the phone and walked over to the freezer. He took out the grappa
bottle and poured himself another glass.
What now? What will Luisa think? I
promised her when we were married that someday we would live in the castle.
It’s probably the only reason she married a loser like me. I know Stefano won’t
keep her on as the cooking school’s chef. He’ll probably hire that chef Luisa
overheard Tonia talking to, Elena Oberti. What will we do for money? I can’t
work, and the only other place that has a cooking school is the Moretti
Palazzo, and I know he’ll never hire her.
He took a long
drink from the glass trying to figure out what to do next.
Maybe Luisa can
find work in one of the little cafes in the village that cater to tourists.
He took another drink and looked at his watch.
She told me to call her after
I talked to Stefano to see when we would be moving into the castle. I better
not call her now. She’s probably doing the last of the preparations for dinner.
I’ll wait until after dinner and call her then. What if she leaves me? I’ve
wondered if the only reason she stays with me is because of the castle.
He looked
around the pathetic little room and for the first time realized there was a
definite possibility that very soon he might be out on the street with nowhere
to go. Luisa had inherited the little house from her parents, and it was hers.
The more he thought about it, the more he was certain she would leave him. For
the first time in his life, he had no idea what he should do, and he knew with
a sickening certainty that Luisa didn’t really care about him. He had no one.