From Mangia to Murder (A Sophia Mancini ~ Little Italy Mystery) Page 8

  “All right then, we’re finished here.” Captain McIntyre turned to face both women. “I’ll need to ask you to come down to the station with me.”

  Stella gasped. “But I’ve already told you everything I can. I’ve got the rosary tonight--”

  “Not you, Mrs. Moretti.” He inclined his head in Sophia’s direction. “I was referring to Miss Mancini.”

  Sophia’s eyes widened. “What on earth for? It’s not a crime that I’m here. Mrs. Moretti simply asked me to come with her to--”

  “When you’re done Miss Mancini, be kind enough to let me know.”

  Sophia took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. This man was far more infuriating than anyone she’d ever met. Ever.

  “I’m done.”

  “Right then, Mrs. Moretti. If there is anything else you need from the apartment I’d like you to take it now. We’ll be securing the premises for several days, so if you do need to come back, please call the station first and I’ll see that an officer accompanies you.”

  “What about the restaurant?” Sophia asked.

  “It’ll also remain closed for a few days.”

  “Has anyone told Eugene that?” Sophia couldn’t help but ask.

  “You may trust that we’re doing our job properly, Miss Mancini. Part of that is asking you to accompany me to headquarters so that you can give a statement.”

  ***

  Sophia had just begun to give her statement when there was a knock on the door.

  The police captain, seated at a small wooden table across from Sophia, nodded for Sergeant O’Brian to see who was at the door. His look of annoyance turned to confusion when he heard who wanted to see him.

  “Two ladies apparently want to trade a bag of biscotti for Miss Mancini’s freedom,” Sergeant O’Brian told him.

  Sophia struggled to keep a smile off of her face. The word of her ride downtown with the captain had reached her aunts in record time.

  “Please assure the ladies that Miss Mancini is not in custody. She’s only providing a statement to assist us with our investigation.”

  “What about the biscotti, Sir?”

  Captain McIntyre sighed deeply. “If they offer to leave it then you may...dash it.” He stood. “Let me handle this. You remain here with Miss Mancini.”

  As soon as the door shut behind him, Sophia asked the question she’d been most anxious to have answered. The young officer seemed a simple, honest type of person, so she tried a direct approach.

  “Sergeant O’Brian, I’ve been wondering about fingerprints on the murder weapon.” She smiled sweetly, hoping it would inspire him to share what information he had with her.

  “Of course we’re looking into that, but it will be a while yet before we hear what they found.”

  “Who will be finding what?” Captain McIntyre asked as he returned to the room. He looked back and forth between Sophia and the sergeant.

  “I simply asked a question about the murder weapon.” She didn’t want O’Brian in trouble. Cultivated properly, he’d be a good connection to have at the station.

  “Did you now?” He frowned at his junior officer. “Kindly return to your desk, Sergeant. You’ll find plenty of paperwork waiting for you, and if that doesn’t keep you quiet I’ll see that you get more.”

  As soon as the door closed, he turned his full attention to Sophia.

  “Miss Mancini, you are here to provide information, not gain it. I’ll also be reminding you that you’re a private citizen with no right to be questioning a police officer.”

  “I’m asking questions on behalf of my client.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Is that so? Would you care to share the name of this client?”

  Sophia hesitated. Was it good form for a detective to share their client’s identity? She had no clue. She’d have to wing it.

  “Why do you ask?” she hedged.

  “If you have a client, I would be curious to know who it was that is so interested in Mr. Moretti’s death that they would hire a detective.”

  The way he stressed the ‘if’ irked Sophia.

  “Frankie Vidoni hired my brother and I to find Vincenzo’s killer.”

  “Ah, that’s interesting.”

  Sophia longed to ask, why but she held her tongue. He knew she was an amateur, but there was no sense in driving the point home.

  “And where was your client during the party?”

  “In the dining room with the other guests.”

  “You’re certain that he didn’t leave the room once?”

  “Of course I’m not certain, Captain. As I told you last night, people were going in and out of the kitchen throughout the entire party. Some of the men were outside smoking. Many of the children were dashing in and out, which meant their mothers were chasing after them.” Described that way, it sounded like a zoo, not a party. “Oh, and most of my male cousins were focused on scopa at the back table.”

  “Scopa?”

  “Sorry, it’s a card game.”

  “And wouldn’t your cousins have been likely to hear a commotion in the kitchen?”

  “Not when they were a causing one just as loud with their card game, no,” she said.

  He picked up his pen. “Let’s run through this again one more time from start to finish. Anything that comes to mind as unusual in any way, I want you to tell me about. Even if you don’t understand why you noticed something, tell me.”

  And so Sophia started from the beginning, and described the party in as much detail as she could remember. Captain McIntyre was a good listener, she’d give him that. He interrupted only once or twice to ask a question. Otherwise he let her speak.

  When she finished she sat back in her chair. “That’s it. Everything I can think of.”

  Everything except that Angelo thought he’d seen the murder victim’s wife at the restaurant before they’d found the body. But Stella had denied being there, and Sophia didn’t know who to believe. Angelo was a man of honor and a man of truth, but he had been confused so much as of late.

  “That’s all,” she repeated.

  “You’ve been most helpful.” He quickly read over his notes. “I’ll have these typed up and ask you to stop by later and sign them if you agree that the statement is accurate.”

  “Certainly.” Sophia stood and reached for her handbag. “If that’s all–-”

  “Wait.”

  “Yes, Captain?”

  He cleared his throat. “Miss Mancini, I feel I would be remiss if I didn’t try to strongly caution you to be careful. I know your brother was a police officer, and knows what he’s about. But you ... I’m not so sure you understand how serious this situation is.”

  Sophia started to protest, but stopped. Was he genuinely concerned? If so, the least she could do was hear him out. She returned to the chair she’d just vacated and placed her pocket book on the table.

  “I’m listening.”

  “Whoever killed Vincenzo is still out there, watching and waiting to see who is closing in on them. A person who commits murder has crossed a line once, and won’t hesitate to do it again if they feel threatened.” He stared into her eyes for a long moment. “You’ve not made a secret of your involvement in this case, and you’ve essentially painted yourself as a target.”

  Sophia looked down at her gloved hands. What the captain had to say didn’t surprise her, but the intensity in his voice shook her composure. She’d been so closely focused on the custody case and their new business that she hadn’t let herself dwell on the obvious danger.

  “Thank you, Captain. I realize this isn’t a game, and the stakes are high.”

  “Then why don’t you let your brother handle this case while you work on another that isn’t so dangerous?”

  Angelo wasn’t capable of solving a murder by himself, not with his memory problems. But Sophia couldn’t--wouldn’t--discuss his injuries with anyone.

  “As I said, Captain McIntyre, I do appreciate your concern, but I have to do this. I can’t expla
in why, but I will heed your words and be very careful.”

  “Does this have something to do with the woman from the court? The one outside of the restaurant?”

  Sophia nodded, but didn’t trust herself to speak. The threat of losing custody of Luciano was like someone holding a knife to her ribs. No matter which way she moved, she couldn’t escape the threat of pain.

  A knock on the door interrupted the silence. The door opened and a portly, silver-haired gentleman entered the room.

  “What a lovely surprise, Miss Mancini isn’t it?”

  Sophia smiled in return. She recognized the elder Captain McIntyre, although she hadn’t seen him since before Angelo shipped out.

  “Hello, sir.” She shook his outstretched hand. “It’s a pleasure to see you again. You’ve quite a memory to recall our one meeting.”

  Tiernan’s uncle laughed merrily. “Truth told, a lass as pretty and smart as you is easy to remember. Now tell me what you’re doing here.” He looked expectantly between them.

  His nephew quickly explained that she had just given her statement. “She’s on her way out now.”

  “Not so fast, my boy.” He looked appraisingly at Sophia. “Seeing you has given me an idea. Sit down for a moment, won’t you?”

  Once they were seated around the small table again he continued, “I understand that your brother has opened a private detective agency and that you’ll be working alongside him.”

  Sophia nodded, curious where he was going with this conversation.

  “I see an opportunity for you and my nephew to form a mutually beneficial working relationship.”

  “Sir?” The word sounded wrung out of his nephew.

  “Listen up, son, and I’ll tell you. As you know, and Miss Mancini may or may not know, there can be some resistance when an Irish cop shows up in Little Italy asking questions.”

  This wasn’t news to Sophia. She nodded.

  “This case is your opportunity to prove that you’re able to work with the Italian-American community with fairness and sensitivity.”

  “I can do that without Miss Mancini’s help.”

  The older gentleman laughed, genuinely amused.

  “I’m not suggesting you give the girl a badge. Just let her introduce you to the people you want to talk to. I think you’ll find her company quite helpful.”

  “You can’t expect me to drag her along with me while I’m solving this case, can you? She’ll only be in the way.”

  “Miss Mancini might well say the same thing about you.”

  Sophia decided that she quite liked the elder McIntyre. He had a charming manner that completely eluded his nephew.

  “What say you, my dear? Do you think you and my nephew can offer each other some assistance in solving this case?”

  “My brother and I have a client with an interest in this case. Does that concern you?”

  “Not at all. That just makes the chase more fun. After all, we’re after the same end goal--finding the man, or woman, who killed Mr. Moretti.” He rubbed his hands together enthusiastically and turned to his nephew. “What do you think, lad?”

  Sophia watched Tiernan struggle to find the words to express his distaste for the idea of cooperating with her. She almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

  ***

  When Sophia arrived home she found Angelo waiting for her at the kitchen table. Andrea and Francesca sat with him. Seeing three of the people she loved most in the world looking up at her with worried expressions filled her with warmth. It was good to be among family.

  “You okay, sis?”

  She nodded and sat in the chair that Andrea pulled out for her. Andrea was big, brawny and an absolute sweetheart. She felt safe when he was around and, with the memory of Vincenzo’s body sprawled on the restaurant floor still fresh in her mind, she welcomed the cocooned feeling of being safely at home.

  “Fill us in on everything,” Andrea urged her once she was seated.

  And so she did. She told them about Maria’s paranoid behavior after Mass and she told them about all of the changes that Eugene was making to the restaurant. The only thing she left out was the elder Captain McIntyre’s directive that his nephew and she cooperate on the case. That, she’d have to think how to present to Angelo. It could wait.

  Angelo stirred his coffee. “So that leaves Stella and Eugene with the strongest motive. As much as I hate to say it, both of them will have a much easier time of it without Vincenzo around. Anyone else you can think of as a suspect, sis?”

  “Maria was acting odd this morning after Mass. She seemed so worried I was going to tell the police what I overheard the day before at the restaurant.”

  “What did you overhear?” Andrea asked.

  “That’s just it. Nothing. They were outside. I couldn’t hear anything but she’s obviously afraid I did.” Sophia bit her lip, trying to remember what Vincenzo had said when they were in the restaurant but she couldn’t. “Vincenzo was angry. Enraged really. I wish I knew why.”

  “What do we really know about Maria?” Angelo asked.

  All four exchanged blank looks.

  “I know she’s Frankie’s mistress,” Andrea said.

  “And she’s been married twice before,” Francesca added.

  “Right, I’ll see what else I can find out about her.” Angelo wrote a note on the small, pocket-sized spiral pad in his hand.

  “See what you can find you about Eugene Gallo too,” Sophia said. “All I really know about him is that he worked with Vincenzo.” Eugene worked and lived in the shadow of a man like Vincenzo, which made the whole business of the new menu and the restaurant name change being Vincenzo’s idea hard to believe. “You look for information on Eugene and Maria tomorrow. I need to find Stella and finish my conversation with her. She seemed just about to tell me something when we were interrupted.”

  “We want to help,” Andrea said. “Francesca and I can go to the rosary tonight and see what we can learn. The murder is all anyone is talking about, so if we’re asking questions it’s not going to attract any undue attention.”

  Sophia looked at her brother to get his take on the suggestion. He nodded, which didn’t surprise her. Andrea and Francesca were more like their big brother and little sister than cousins. They’d all grown up together in this house, raised by their grandfather after both sets of parents had been killed in an automobile accident while vacationing in Florida. The four had managed to get in, and out, of plenty of scrapes together. Having their help seemed only natural, but Tiernan McIntyre’s warning weighed on Sophia’s mind.

  “We’d love the help, but on one condition.” She turned to Francesca. “You go to the rosary with your brother and you leave only with him. You can listen and tell us what you hear but I don’t want you asking too many questions and drawing too much attention to yourself. Agreed?”

  Francesca nodded. “There’s one more person I think you should talk to.”

  Angelo and Andrea all turned to stare at her.

  Francesca squirmed in her chair, a guilty look on her face.

  “It’s okay, Francesca. You can tell us. No one will be upset with you,” Sophia assured her.

  After a long moment, Francesca finally spoke. “During the middle of the party, I went outside for a minute with Tommy Gaglio.”

  Sophia shot Andrea a warning glance. Francesca’s big brother he may well be, but he needed to be silent so his sister would feel comfortable enough to tell them what she knew.

  “Did you see or hear something suspicious?” Sophia prompted her.

  Francesca nodded. “We were standing in the side alley--”

  A strangled sound came from Andrea’s direction. Sophia wished she was sitting next to him so she could kick him under the table but she had to make do with a frown.

  “We were just talking,” Francesca protested. “Tommy wants to teach me how to Lindy Hop.”

  Andrea grunted his disapproval.

  “Why not?” Francesca demanded. “All the kids are doi
ng it, and Tommy’s the best.”

  “Forget about it,” Angelo chimed in. “No way is Grandpa going to allow some boy to be throwing you around like that.”

  “He wouldn’t be throwing me around, Ang. It’s the coolest dance. Besides, I like Tommy.”

  Sophia saw her chance to get the conversation back on track. “He’s a nice boy, and we can talk about the dancing later. What were you were going to tell us?”

  “When we were talking, the back door to the kitchen slammed open, and a huge man ran out of the kitchen and past us real fast.”

  “Do you remember what time it was?” Angelo asked.

  Sophia shot him an exasperated look. What girl talking to a boy as cute as Tommy Gaglio would be looking at her watch?

  Francesca shook her head. “I didn’t think to look. And I don’t know who the man was either. But he was carrying a book under his arm.”

  “Can you describe him to us?” Angelo prompted her.

  By the time Francesca was done giving a very brief description, Sophia was sure she knew who the man was. A man that big could only be the same Mr. Mooch who worked for Frankie Vidoni.

  A quick phone call to Frankie was all it took for Sophia to obtain his address. She accepted Andrea’s offer to accompany her, but insisted he wait downstairs while she had a word with Mooch.

  “He’s much more likely to talk to me if I’m alone,” she told her cousin. “He’s not a very talkative person.”

  Except that when she found him, Mooch wasn’t in any condition to talk to her, or anyone else.

  Chapter Ten

  Out of breath from climbing up four flights of stairs, Sophia stopped in front of the apartment door marked forty-nine. She knocked and quickly stepped back in surprise when it swung open at her touch.

  “Mr. Mooch?” she called out. No answer. She tried again, raising her voice slightly. No doubt it was impossible for him to hear her with Sinatra blaring out of apartment forty-six, and the argument in number forty-seven threatening to drown out Old Blue Eyes.

  She pushed the door all the way open and stuck her head in the room. The tiny apartment was neat as a pin, and no one appeared to be in it.