From Mangia to Murder (A Sophia Mancini ~ Little Italy Mystery) Read online

  “I find this really hard to believe, Maria. You had no clue that the divorce wasn’t final?” Sophia watched the other woman closely, but Maria’s expression was guarded again. And Sophia couldn’t really blame her for that. If word got out that she was a bigamist, there’d be hell to pay.

  “No, when I married Al I honestly thought I was divorced. I just skipped over the being married before part because he was in such a hurry to marry me. You see, I’d told Al that we couldn’t have marital relations until I had a gold band on my left hand, and he was getting really--”

  “Stop,” Sophia held up her hand. “No details, please. When did you find out that you were still married to Vincenzo?”

  Maria shuddered. “I wish you wouldn’t say it like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like it was true,” Maria sighed. “I thought it would never come back to haunt me. After Al died, I met Paulie and he charmed me into marrying him. I guess I just sort of forgot about it all.”

  “Until?”Maria frowned. “You don’t give up do you?”

  Sophia shook her head. “No, not until you tell me when it was that Vincenzo threatened to blackmail you.”

  “You know about that?”

  She did now. It had only been a guess, but the look on Maria’s face confirmed her suspicion.

  “I was married to Paulie when Vincenzo came around. Paulie was a wealthy man, and that rat of a first husband of mine was sure that he deserved part of the riches. But I shot him down. I really believed that because I’d been widowed in my second marriage, that my marriage to Paulie was legitimate.”

  “You were never Alberto Tomosolli’s widow, Maria.” Sophia marveled at the other woman’s flexible interpretation of the law. “What did you tell Vincenzo?”

  “That I’d rather see him dead than give him a single dollar.” Maria’s expression was sheepish. “I guess it sounds a bit harsh now, doesn’t it?”

  “A bit, yes.” Sophia felt a headache coming on. Everything she was hearing made Maria the perfect suspect. But could Maria actually kill a man as big as Vincenzo?

  Something still didn’t make sense. “So you told Vincenzo that he wasn’t getting any money out of you, and he just accepted that? Went away without telling Paulie anything about your first marriage?”

  Maria wouldn’t meet her eye. “Let’s just say I made payments that weren’t in cash.”

  Sophia shook her head. Vincenzo had been a pig.

  “The day I met Eugene at the restaurant, Vincenzo came storming in. He was enraged with you. Why?” Sophia remembered that Maria hadn’t seemed a bit frightened. In fact, she’d appeared to have the upper hand. What had that all been about?

  “Vincenzo was raving like a lunatic, and accusing me of telling Frankie that he shouldn’t pay Vincenzo hush money. But I didn’t even know that Vincenzo was trying to blackmail Frankie. I didn’t let on though. I took full credit just to get under his skin.” Maria smiled a satisfied smile.

  “And?” There was more. Sophia was sure of it.

  Maria’s smile faded. She lifted her eyebrows and feigned an innocent expression--one that may well work with any man under her spell, but it wasn’t having the same mesmerizing effect on Sophia.

  “Don’t start lying to me now, Maria. There’s more. Vincenzo looked angry enough to kill someone that day. What aren’t you telling me?”

  “I told Vincenzo I was done being his dame on the side, and that he could go chase himself.”

  “But he could turn you in for bigamy,” Sophia reminded her. “He’d try to take you down with him. Vincenzo wasn’t above that.”

  “No, Frankie fixed that.”

  “Fixed how?”

  “Let’s just say that Frankie spelled out for Vincenzo what would happen to him if he bothered either of us again.” She leaned forward, her intensity palpable. “Don’t you see that Frankie is my salvation? Once I’m Mrs. Frankie Vidoni, I’ll be safe from Al’s kids and those pesky lawyers they’ve hired to get their father’s money back. Marrying my Frankie will be a whole new start for me, Sophia. I’ll be home free.”

  Not if Sophia’s theory about Frankie proved to be right, she wouldn’t.

  “What about Lily Vidoni?” Sophia decided to start with the obvious. “He’s not technically your Frankie.”

  Maria waved her hand around airily. “A small detail.”

  The image of an ill Lily Vidoni pulled at Sophia’s heart. Maria and Lily were like two different species. Lily was thoughtful and kind, and Maria was, well, not.

  Maria opened her handbag and laid two dollar bills on the table. “Lunch is on me, Sophia. Let’s just forget we ever had that conversation, okay?” She slid out of the booth.

  “Wait, Maria. You can’t go now. Don’t you know what this means?”

  “That I have to avoid the police captain? Yes, I see that. So you keep him busy for me.” She gave a half-hearted grin.

  Sophia couldn’t believe Maria’s levity. Not after all she’d just confessed.

  “Stop and think about it, Maria. Can’t you see what you stand to lose here if this becomes public knowledge?”

  “Of course I do, which is why you aren’t going to say a word to anyone. You promised, remember.”

  “You need to tell the police, Maria. Maybe you can work out a deal.”

  “I need to think about it.” Maria’s voice was pleading, all earlier bravado gone. “Just give me a few days to talk to my lawyer before I go to the police. Look, be reasonable, Sophia. Someone did the world a favor by getting rid of Vincenzo. How will it hurt to give me two or three days to see if my lawyer can get me a deal? After what Vincenzo has put me through, can’t you just give me a break? A couple of days?”

  Against her better judgment, Sophia nodded. It only seemed fair to let Maria seek legal counsel.

  She sat for a while with her cold cup of coffee and tried to make sense of Maria’s attitude. She couldn’t be as light-hearted and care free as she pretended to be. Maria Acino wasn’t stupid. She had to know what this would look like to the police.

  Of course she did. Maria knew exactly what she stood to lose--her second first husband’s money, and her second second husband’s money, not to mention her precious lover, Frankie Vidoni.

  Wrapped up in a neat little bundle, it was the perfect motive for murder.

  Chapter Twenty

  At the last moment, Sophia decided not to attend Vincenzo’s funeral.

  Her time with Maria had been enlightening, but also unnerving. Maria’s convoluted explanation of her marriage to Vincenzo had answered some of Sophia’s questions, but it brought up just as many new ones. It also drove home the fact that a killer was out there somewhere, literally getting away with murder.

  She needed to start eliminating suspects, and she was starting with Frankie Vidoni.

  Something about him didn’t make sense. It wasn’t a judgment of his lifestyle, or choice of occupation. No. Some part of the whole picture wasn’t right.

  She stood in the shade of a tree across the street from the Vidoni home, and watched as a taxi cab pulled to a stop in front of the gates. A woman stepped out, a small, leather satchel in one hand. Sophia guessed the woman was a nurse, based on her white stockings and shoes. A cloak covered the woman’s dress. A cloak in this weather? Odd.

  Even more odd was the way the woman leaned into the open front passenger side window. She might be dressed like a nurse, but her manner was suggestive. Even from across the street, Sophia could tell this woman was used to working nights. And taking temperatures had nothing to do with her duties.

  Whoever she was, she had a key to the side gate, and Sophia watched as she let herself in. After the taxi disappeared from sight, Sophia waited a full quarter hour before crossing the street and entering the estate the way she had the first time. Except today she’d planned ahead and worn slacks and low-heeled shoes. Just in case.

  Tino answered the front door, a sandwich in hand. He frowned when he recognized her.


  “Whatcha want?” He took another bite and wiped the crumbs at the corner of his mouth with the back of his enormous hand.

  A hand she wouldn’t want wrapped around her neck. She swallowed. “I’m here to pick up something at Mr. DiMuccio’s request.”

  Tino’s eyebrows rose. “Is that so? Mr. Vidoni didn’t say nothing like that to me.”

  “I doubt he felt the need. Does Mr. Vidoni tell you everything that he discusses with Mr. DiMuccio?” She waited, but Tino’s silence answered her question. If there was a hierarchy around here, Tino wasn’t anywhere near the top. His indecisive expression made that abundantly clear. “Please show me where Mr. DiMuccio’s desk is.”

  Tino didn’t move anything except his jaw as he chewed his mouthful of sandwich. He stared at her, a distrustful expression on his face. “Uh, I think I should clear this with Mr. Vidoni.”

  “How exactly do you plan to do that, Tino? He’s in jail. I imagine you could call down there and ask the desk sergeant on duty to ask Frankie’s permission for Mooch’s orders to be carried out.” She waved her hand as if it were of no consequence to her. “You go ahead if you think it’s how Mr. Vidoni wants you to handle things in his absence.”

  Tino struggled with that for a moment. “What did you say Mooch wanted you to get for him?”

  “He sent me for the keys to the warehouse.” Sophia decided to grab for the brass ring. “He also wanted you to drive me there so I could check on something for him. So where is his desk?”

  To her immense surprise and relief, Tino let her into the house. Without a word, he turned and walked down the hallway. Sophia could barely resist clapping her hands together with delight. Who knew, maybe she’d actually begin to like Tino if he kept up this cooperative behavior.

  Tino pushed open the door and pointed to a green steel desk in the corner. “That’s Mooch’s desk. Get what you came for.”

  Sophia crossed to the desk and opened the top drawer. The ring of keys were just where she’d hoped they’d be. Her eyes scanned the top of the desk, curiosity prompting her to look for some small clue to Mooch’s personal life, but there was nothing. No framed photos. Nothing aside from neat stacks of paper and a wooden pen holder. Tidy. Sparse. Just like Mooch’s apartment.

  She picked up the key ring and smiled at Tino. “Thank you. Now, if you’d be good enough to drive me to the warehouse, I’d appreciate it as much as Mr. DiMuccio will.”

  “Which warehouse?”

  Hells bells. She should have known there’d be more than one. There was nothing for it but to bluff her way out of this situation and into the warehouse, which one she didn’t care.

  She slipped the keys into her pocketbook, hoping that the possessive action would appear as a show of confidence. Tino didn’t have to know that she was feeling less than sure about what she was doing. “I think you know which one Mooch was talking about.” She slipped past him, and headed back toward the front entranceway.

  “Maybe I should call him to check this out.”

  Sophia’s mind raced for something to say to prevent him from calling the hospital.

  “Big mistake,” she finally said. She turned around to look at him. “The man was poisoned, for heaven’s sake. Can you imagine how much that must have hurt?”

  Tino reached up and touched his throat.

  “Exactly,” Sophia pressed on. “And how happy is Mr. DiMuccio going to be if you call and force him to repeat all of this to you when he’s already sent word with me?”

  She decided not to give Tino the time to sort out what she was asking him.

  “I don’t like this,” Tino grumbled as he followed her down the hallway.

  Sophia pounced on his indecision.

  “Then don’t drag your feet. I don’t blame you for worrying that Mr. Vidoni and Mr. DiMuccio are going to be perturbed with you for not helping me.” She opened the front door, stood back to usher Tino out, and patted him on the shoulder as he passed through the doorway. “And don’t worry, Tino. I won’t tell either one of them that you were less than helpful. It’ll be our little secret.”

  ***

  Frankie’s warehouse was a world away from the opulent Vidoni estate. The warehouse was modest, in need of a paint job, and there was nothing to indicate that it belonged to the Vidoni family except for the large Tino look-alike who stood outside the gates. Where did Frankie find these giants? Was there a colony of hefty oversized men somewhere that produced minions for the Vidonis?

  Tino rolled the car through the gates without stopping to talk to the guard, for which Sophia was grateful. The hulking guard made one less person who could object to her search for ... well, that was the tricky part. She had no idea what she was searching for, except some concrete proof of what Vincenzo might be blackmailing Frankie about. She needed just one more piece of the puzzle to make up her mind about Frankie. He’d never tell her anything. So, in essence, he was forcing her to snoop.

  She glanced over at Tino. He hadn’t uttered a sound since he’d tossed the rest of his sandwich over the chain link fence to a growling Doberman back at the Vidonis’. “That was a good sandwich,” was all he’d said, making it entirely clear that he blamed her for his loss of nourishment.

  It was unlikely that word of what she was up to would get back to Frankie. Not that he could do much about it from behind bars.

  Tino slammed the car’s gear into park. “Get out,” he ordered.

  Sophia bristled at his manner. He certainly had none of Mooch’s charm.

  The gravel crunched underfoot as they made their way to the warehouse entrance. Calling it a door would have been too generous. It looked like it belonged on a rickety old barn. Tino slid it open and pointed into the darkness.

  Sophia took a deep steadying breath. She suddenly wished Angelo was with her. She peered into the darkness. What was she doing here, about to enter a dark warehouse when no one knew where she was? She had to be crazy. That was the only answer.

  “A light, Tino.” Sophia gestured into the darkness. “Please.”

  Tino grunted an unintelligible response, but he brushed past her and entered the warehouse first. She followed him into the darkness.

  ***

  Three quarters of an hour later, Sophia closed the last of the crates she’d pried open. She plopped down on a stack of wooden boxes. She’d opened enough crates to have her suspicions about Frankie confirmed.

  She crossed to the inner office door and tried the handle. To her delight, it opened easily. She looked over her shoulder, but there was no sign of Tino. Some henchman he was. He was probably waiting outside the door, or maybe he’d already gone to alert Frankie to her presence at the warehouse. Either way, he’d given her time to discover the truth about Frankie’s business.

  Sophia pulled the string that hung from the light bulb socket in the middle of the room. Once her eyes had adjusted to the light, she headed toward a row of filing cabinets. She opened a random drawer and flipped through the files, glancing at the names scrawled on the manila file folder tabs.

  The files, invoices, and the content of the warehouse crates all added up perfectly. Two plus two always came to four. But Frankie Vidoni acted like he was a five.

  She shut the top file cabinet drawer just as she heard the front warehouse door slide open and then slam shut. Time was up. But she had the information she’d come for. All she needed now was to talk to Angelo so they could figure out the connection between what she’d found and Vincenzo’s murder.

  “Hello, Miss Mancini.”

  Sophia’s eyes widened in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve come to give you a ride home. We can talk in the car.” He gestured to the hanging light switch string. “Do me a favor and turn the light out.”

  Sophia turned and pulled the string. At the same moment the room returned to darkness, a heavy object smashed into the back of her head. She pitched forward and crumpled to the floor.

  ***

  “She’s in so much trouble, she
’ll take her time waking up if she’s smart.”

  The voice came from the opposite side of the room and the words were garbled, as if the speaker had a mouth full of marbles. Sophia turned her head toward the sound, but the pain that shot through her body warned her to keep still. Even opening her eyes hurt. She kept them shut.

  “I think tying her to a chair is the only way to keep her out of commission.”

  A chair. Sophia struggled to focus her thoughts. She wasn’t in a chair. She was lying down. Her fingers were able to move. Soft. Whatever she was laying on was soft, not hard. She wasn’t on the floor.

  The voices were quiet again. She couldn’t remember where she was or what happened, but she didn’t want to be tied to a chair, or to anything else for that matter. Her head hurt like the devil. She had to figure out where she was and who the voices belonged to.

  Sophia willed her eyes to open. The room was bright. There was a window with blinds, and several people stood huddled beside it. She couldn’t tell if there were two or three figures because their shadows kept blurring together and then apart.

  What in God’s name had happened to her head? Helplessness and frustration made her want to weep, but she was afraid even that would be painful.

  “I’d be more than willing to put the fear of God into her if you two don’t object.”

  So there were three of them. There was something familiar about the third man’s voice. Something different, like an accent. An Irish brogue.

  Her eyes flew open. She struggled to sit up, biting her lip to keep from crying out.

  “Sophia, cara, you’re awake.” Angelo was beside her in a moment. He kissed both her cheeks and took her hand in his.

  Gratitude and relief filled her heart. If Angelo was with her, she was safe.

  “Where am I, Ang?” She could hear how strained her voice sounded.

  “Sshh, you’re safe. Lie still and be quiet.” He sat beside her, still holding onto her hand. “You’re in the hospital, sis.”