The Lantern, a Renaissance Mystery by Joanne Lewis

Author:Joanne Lewis [Lewis, Joanne]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi
ISBN: 9781937698416
Publisher: Telemachus Press, LLC
Published: 2013-12-16T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-nine

Officer Franco pulled Filippa out of the cathedral. The duffel hung by one strap on her shoulder.

“I do not want to arrest you. Italian jail is no place for a lady. Explain to me what you were doing in there.”

“I forgot my bag.”

“That is not good enough.”

“I, um,” she hesitated, determining if she should tell him about the contest.

“If you do not have explanation for being in Florence’s cathedral after she has closed, I must take you to jail.”

“I’m sorry, Officer. I lost track of time. I am trying to discover this girl from the fifteenth century who entered the competition to build the lantern on top of the dome.”

Franco leaned toward her. “I hear you. Continue.”

Filippa sighed, and then spewed her story starting with Grandpa Raj and his obsession with the Renaissance girl, moving on to Buddy and the money needed to save his life, and ending with this very moment. She looked up at the dome. Despite the sliver of light that shone down from the lantern and cast a soft beam around her, she felt embarrassed. Why had she just told all of that to a stranger? And then she remembered. She didn’t want to be put in an Italian jail.

“Where are you staying?” Franco asked.

Filippa hesitated. “With a friend.”

“Let me see your passport.”

She dug her passport out of the duffel and handed it to the officer. He studied it and made notes on a small pad. He handed the passport back to Filippa.

“Call this friend and I will not take you to jail.”

Filippa dug into her pocket and pulled out the piece of paper. Written on it was, Carla Moskowitz, followed by her phone number.

“Call her.”

“I don’t have a phone.”

Franco reached for his hip and unclipped his cell. “Call or go to jail. You Americans do everything fast but make decisions.” Officer Franco held out his phone. “Call.”

Filippa dialed the number. Unsure if the two was a three or the six was an eight. She guessed the best she could. One ring, she pressed end.

“She’s not home,” Filippa said.

“That was too quick. Try again.” He lowered his voice. “You were in a very sacred place. I’m going you to jail unless you go with someone else. Capite?”

Filippa dialed the number again. On the third ring, Carla answered. Filippa hesitated. She didn’t know anything about this woman except she had appeared twice in only three days. Was she stalking her? Had it been coincidence?

“Hi, Carla,” Filippa injected false energy into the greeting. “It’s Filippa. Your friend from Miami. I know I told you I would be home later tonight but I’m going to come now. Okay?”

Officer Franco grabbed the phone and spoke in Italian. Filippa considered running. Carla had to be telling him she had no idea who Filippa was. Filippa’s other option was jail. American or Italian, she wasn’t going back to jail. She was ready to run.

The officer clipped the phone on his belt. He scowled, his eyes narrow. He rested his hands on his waist, near his gun.

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