Death Of A Sad Face (A Serafina Florio Mystery) Read Online Free PDF Page A

told him to sit and said he wouldn’t be hurt. “Not unless you try to escape. I need you to make shoes, like the shoes your father once made for me.”

A Twisted Mustache

    Thursday afternoon, October 29, 1868
    Serafina hated being a snoop. However, for the sake of the baroness—to say nothing of her family and the citizens of her town—she wanted Cecco’s killer brought to justice. She doubted that would happen with Colonna as investigator, so she’d have to step in.
    Despite the commissioner requesting her expertise whenever needed, Colonna still thought of her as an outsider. Worse, he thought of her as a woman. She hated the way he winked at her as if she were still a schoolgirl playing at a game of hunt the slipper. With her daughter’s ability to get to the heart of things, Carmela told her not to let Colonna’s jealousy bother her too much, but Serafina couldn’t help it. After all, why should that no-nothing, venal inspector bask in the glory of a title and a large salary while she, Serafina, was paid a pittance and did most of the difficult work of detecting for him?
    Dr. Loffredo’s absence meant that Serafina would have to speak with the assistant medical examiner and discover for herself just how Cecco was killed. As she made her way to the morgue, Serafina burrowed into her cape, bending into the wind, preoccupied with Mother Concetta’s remarks. She hurried past mules pulling carts, brushed a straggler running to school, heard the bells chiming the hour. When she opened the door, she smelled the cloying stench of death.
    “What can I do for you?” a guard asked.
    “I’m here to see the assistant medical examiner. Is he available?”
    The guard escorted her to a basement office, and in a few minutes, Loffredo’s assistant entered.
    Serafina, who had been holding a linen to her nose and mouth, cleared her throat. “Forgive me, Doctor. I know my visit is highly irregular, but I’d like to ask you about the Lanza case.”
    “Not at all, I’ll be glad to tell you as much as I can. You know how we love working with you.” The doctor paused. “I wish I could say the same about some others.” He winked, pointing to the ceiling.
    “Too kind. I’ve just come from Villa Lanza where the baroness, my client who is   soon to give birth, is distraught. She is anxious to hear the cause and manner of her butler’s death. I wondered if there was anything you could tell me. Have you been able to examine the body?”
    “No autopsy yet, but I was called to the scene by Inspector Colonna. Have you had a chance to speak with him?”
    “Not yet.”
    “From the looks of it, the butler was killed by a single shot to the heart. Not much blood. The gun was fired by a professional.”
    “How so?”
    “As I told the inspector—”
    “Did I hear my name?” Colonna asked, pushing into the office on splayed feet . He stroked his mustache. “Fina, my dear, what a surprise!”
    Serafina swallowed. “We were just speaking of you.”
    Colonna looked at the doctor. “But go on, please. Don’t let me stop you.”
    “The gun which, I understand, has not yet been found, must have been a revolver with a fairly short barrel. And this killer hit the victim in just the right spot, resulting in instant death and very little loss of blood.”
    Colonna eyes twinkled. “Almost solved, my dear, so don’t worry your pretty head.”
    “Would you like to hear what I’ve learned?” Serafina asked.
    He gave her a self-indulgent smile and shook his head.
    “So you’ve retrieved the gun? Examined the locks in the house? Found the jewels? Taken the killer into custody? Accepted his signed confession?”
    Colonna grinned. “Not quite. But it’s a case of theft, pure and simple. All the baroness’s jewels are missing.”
    “All? That’s not what I understand.”
    He twisted one end of his mustache. “Quite a substantial amount. The butler got in the way. All we need to do is find the thief.”
    “Was theft the only