Susan Anderson: Murder On The Rue Cassette

From their conservatory where they enjoyed an after-dinner cafe, Serafina gazed out over all of Paris, Loffredo by her side. The street lamps had long ago been lit, and the city before them seemed like a magical kingdom.

“Valois told me that Haussmann had fifteen thousand gas lamps installed on the streets of Paris.”

“Tomorrow let’s go to the Louvre if it rains. We have one more day to celebrate before I start to work,” Loffredo said.

“And if the sun shines?”

“The Medici Pool in the Luxembourg gardens. I have something to give you.”

Serafina smiled. “At the Medici Pool?”

Loffredo kissed the top of her head. “Was Valois surprised when you told him?”

“He tried to hide it, but yes, he was. Not used to Sicilian women.”

“But Sophie is a Frenchwoman now.”

“On paper, yes, and I’ve gotten as close to the truth as I will ever be on this case.”

“You’ve not uncovered the whole truth?”

Serafina shook her head. “There’s no such thing as uncovering the whole truth, unless you’re the Madonna.”

“Does she tell her Son?”

Serafina arched a brow. “Most of the time. But we poor mortals, we dig and dig and dig and never reach the bottom.”

They embraced, and Paris shimmered in their glow.

She heard Vicenzu yelling as he clambered up the stairs. Way too early. Their bedroom door burst open and he limped toward her.

“It’s Carlo,” he said. His eyes were wild as he handed her the wire and he gulped air. “From Busacca.”

“Regret to inform you. Your family home in Oltramari burned to ground. Body of your son Carlo Florio found amid debris.”