Murder On The Rue Cassette (A Serafina Florio Mystery) Read Online Free PDF Page A

Elena’s
death should lighten your step.”
    Serafina shook her head. “I
wondered when you’d get to that, but you’re mistaken. Loffredo hasn’t written
once and Busacca, as you can imagine, had no kind words to say about him. No,
Elena’s death gives me little cause for joy. There’s something sinister in all
of this. I wouldn’t put it past Elena for arranging her own demise to spite
us.”
    “Don’t be silly,” Rosa said.
“Busacca’s no fool. After all, he’s used to Elena’s misdeeds. He must know when
she’s inventing fantasy. He wouldn’t part with ten thousand lire to retain your
services unless he was sure she’s dead.”
    “But I feel a tremble in my
bones, an ancient monster swishing its tail. Something’s not right with
Loffredo.”
    “You’re being far too dramatic,
as usual.”
    Serafina gazed across the room
and was silent for a moment. “You’re right. I need to focus on investigating
Elena’s death.” Besides, she thought, but did not say it, she was a bit put out
with Loffredo. Whenever Elena wrote to him, he dropped everything to be by her
side. What was that about? And she hadn’t heard from him in close to two weeks.
Perhaps she should be worried. She felt again that slow burn in her stomach. He
couldn’t be ... they couldn’t have ... No, impossible, the French would never
imprison a member of the nobility. Well, except during their Revolution, but
that was long ago. And that other slip, what did they call it? The Commune.
    “Have you made arrangements for
Giulia to meet us?”
    “Not yet, but I will. I’ll have
her meet us at the hotel with as much of a new wardrobe for Carmela as she can
muster in such a short time.”
    “Will her employer part with all
that fabric without charging her for the gowns?”
    Serafina nodded. “La Grinaldi is
in my debt for letting Giulia go to Paris and work for her in the first place.
But right now I’m more concerned with finding Elena’s killer and being done
with it. We have our work cut out for us. Elena has friends, lots of them.
Painters and poets and the like. Any of them could have killed her.”
    “The motive?” Rosa asked.
    “Don’t be so pedantic.” But
Serafina paused to consider Rosa’s question. “I’ve no idea, not yet. Anything
could have happened. You know what a horror Elena can be at times. She may have
angered someone, or perhaps a poor painter is in her debt. I know nothing of
her life in Paris, only what she’s chosen to tell Loffredo, and that’s very
little.”
    There was a knock on the door
and Arcangelo entered.
    Rosa perked up. “You have ten
hours to finish your chores for the day and ready yourself for a long journey.
We leave tonight on a pack boat bound for Paris. But before you do, find out
who’s been following Donna Fina and take care of them for her.”
    Serafina described them, a tall
man wearing a dark cloak, and a shorter companion in black leather jerkin and
cap. “Hired by the inspector, no doubt.”
    Rosa’s stable boy bowed. As he
turned to leave, the madam pointed to a bulge in his back pocket. “And for
heaven’s sake, do a better job of hiding that sling shot.”

 
    * * *

 
    When Serafina got home, she
found her children gathered around the table waiting for breakfast, so she told
them briefly about Elena’s death and her commission from Mr. Busacca to find
her killer.
    Totò seemed more interested in
shining his knucklebones. Vicenzu rushed out to deposit her retainer, promising
to return with enough bank notes to cover her expenses while in Paris.
    “And you can always wire for more,”
he said, kissing the note and running out the door.
    Serafina called after him.
“Don’t forget to contact Giulia. Tell her we’ll be in Paris in what, today’s
Friday, and the trip takes seventy-six hours—tell her she should meet us
in the lobby of the Hôtel du Louvre on ... Monday or Tuesday evening. Tell her
I’ll wire her when we get to Marseille with a more precise