Page 14 of The Venice Murders

Renzi shook his head, a sorrowful smile on his face. ‘My dear, a priest in these small communities is more than a servant of God. He is a mainstay, a friend, a comforter, a father. The Tascas expected me to come to their son’s rescue and I did not. That is when the problems began.’

‘Which were?’ Jack fidgeted in his seat, seeming wary of being drawn further into this maelstrom but feeling he must ask.

‘Many difficulties. The family refused to attend my church and persuaded others to do the same. They ignored me in the street when I greeted them, tore up my garden and left rubbish instead of flowers. Worse’ – the priest’s face was filled with pain – ‘they spread lies about me – that I drank heavily, took from the collection, made my altar boys uncomfortable. They posted anonymous messages around the village, although everyone knew who had written them. Unpleasant and untrue accusations that I could do nothing to stop.’

‘And the church authorities moved you to Venice to get you away?’ Flora asked, wondering why they had done little else to stop this assault on a loyal servant.

‘I asked for a new post and they saw the wisdom of my request. It broke my heart to do this, but I had no choice. I have tried hard to make it work, but I miss my village, my town, and always will. Filomena, too.’

Jack leaned forward. ‘Is this the first trouble you’ve encountered since you moved?’

The priest looked surprised. ‘What kind of trouble are you thinking?’

‘Has the family continued to bother you since you’ve been at Santa Margherita?’

‘Not at all. I have heard nothing from them.’

‘Has anything else been stolen from the church?’ Jack pursued.

The priest hesitated. ‘Nothing,’ he said at last. ‘There was a candelabra…a few months ago…I noticed it was missing, but Filomena told me she had taken it to the goldsmith for repair. She had dented it accidentally when cleaning. She is growing old, you see, and can be a little careless these days.’

‘And that’s all, just the candelabra?’

He seemed to hesitate again, but then gave a nod.

‘And Filomena – you’ve no clue where the lady could be?’

‘None. The painting disappeared into thin air and so has Filomena. I fear very much that harm has come to her.’

‘Have you mentioned the problems you had with the Tasca family to the Venice police?’

‘I would not wish to do so. It would be as though I was accusing them and I cannot truly believe they have any part in this. I have been three years in Venice and, as I told you, have heard nothing from them.’

‘Could you talk to them perhaps?’ Flora suggested. ‘To be sure that they know nothing? Talk to Luigi Tasca himself, maybe.’

‘It is not possible. None of the family will speak and it would stir more trouble – they would say that I was once again trying to blacken Luigi’s name. And I must let the police carry on their investigation – they have made it plain I should not interfere. Their minds are made up. Filomena has chosen to go away, they say, no one has made her, and the artwork will be recovered all in good time. The art squad from Rome is excellent; they will trace what has happened to the painting.’

‘Essentially, they’ve washed their hands of the business.’

‘It would seem so.’

‘Well, you may not be able to talk to the Tascas, but we can.’ Flora was already thinking of what she would ask them.

The priest put out his hand as though to detain her. ‘You will be careful. They are an angry family and I do not know what they might do.’

‘We’re very good at being careful,’ she said cheerfully.

Are we?was Jack’s less comfortable thought.

6

The priest got to his feet and solemnly shook hands with them both. ‘You will excuse me now? I must return to my house in case there is a message from the police.’

It seemed unlikely, but Jack wasn’t about to bring Father Renzi’s spirits any lower than they already were.

‘But, if you should ask any questions and you have any news, you will come to Santa Margherita?’ The priest still lingered by the table.

‘We will, I promise.’ It was easy enough to promise, but difficult to see how they could unearth anything substantive, knowing no one in Venice and with little Italian.

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