No More Brothers (A Serafina Florio Mystery) by Susan Russo Anderson Read Free Book Online Page A

sat near the fountain. Out of the blue, Abatti found me. He offered to walk me home.” That’s all she’d tell him, nothing about Loffredo. He must never know that.
    “You’re lucky you weren’t killed. If Papa were alive, he’d be upset, you know that.”
    They were silent. She listened to the clop of Largo’s hooves.
    Presently she straightened her cape. “And the reason Ugo’s house seemed so violated? No medal above the mantelpiece.”
    “So they drank together, Ugo and his poisoner. Then the poisoner left,” Carlo said, “but returned for the medal, gave it to Abatti as payment for killing Ugo. No broken locks or windows because Ugo trusted his killer with the key.”
    “Any squirms coming from the back?” Serafina asked.
    Carlo lifted a corner of the blanket covering Abatti. “He sleeps.”
    “We know Ugo met Abatti: ‘Midnight, m’dni, ea’ is ‘Midnight, Madonie, Ezzo Abatti.’ Ugo’s ledger bears the same script as the note, and I saw ‘ea’ scrawled in several places, so Abatti must have been one of Ugo’s suppliers.”
    They were silent.
    Carlo turned to Serafina. “Or… Abatti played both roles.”
    “Could be, but I don’t think so. I think he was hired to do the job.”
    “And the one who hired him?”
    Serafina said nothing.
    “That look on your face: you know his identity.”
    She visored her hand against the setting sun.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Maria’s Lesson
    Wednesday, February 13, 1867
    S erafina felt a stiffness in her body as she strode across the piazza with Maria. No more riding all day in a wooden cart. She smelled citrus and fresh laundry. Sidestepping a clump of women gathered around the onion seller, she rushed to keep up with her daughter.
    “Hurry, we’ll be late,” Maria said.
    “Slow down. The maestro will still be there.”
    “Yes, but today I start a new piece.”
    “The one I’ve heard you practicing? Don’t tell me: it’s a Brahms something or other.”
    “How did you know?”
    “Wild guess.”
    Maria skipped ahead.
    “His sonata for cello,” she called over her shoulder.
    “But you play the piano.”
    She dashed a look to Serafina. “He wrote it for cello and piano. I’m accompanying the maestro. Next time we go to see Aunt Giuseppina, I want to surprise her.”
    Serafina was half listening to her daughter when a shock of red hair blocked their way.
    Don Tigro flashed his magnificent teeth. “I missed your visit last week.” He nodded to Maria.
    Serafina whispered in her ear. “Run to your lesson. I’ll meet you there.”
    “Did you hear what I said?”
    “I came to see Elisabetta, not you. She’s big and uncomfortable, I’m afraid, but that’s to be expected in the final month. I don’t doubt you’ve followed my instructions and released her from her obligations to help you entertain all your criminal friends.”
    “Most of us mellow in middle age, but that tongue of yours just gets sharper.”
    She tried to suppress a smile. “You’ll need to move here soon so that I may manage the birth.”
    “Arrived yesterday, Betta and I. And now we are neighbors, at least for a while, and I can keep a watch on Maria’s progress. That’s why I’m here—to listen to her exquisite playing.”
    “Progressing nicely without your help.”
    “When will you learn to think of your children first? I’m willing to be Maria’s patron.”
    “Never!”
    “She’d have the finest teachers, become world-renowned, but not if you don’t accept patronage. You barely manage now. The crops failed last year. Families are falling apart. Women are doing their own birthing. Soon you’ll lose your stipend.”
    “No matter. We have the shop.”
    “Won’t last. You’ll be ruined, your family spread to the four corners. I owe it to our mother to help you.”
    Serafina’s temples throbbed. “Stay away from Maria. I’m Elisabetta’s midwife because she’s my friend, not because of you.”
    “As you wish.” He shrugged and disappeared inside