The Last Enemy by Grace Brophy Page B

she treated him like a boyfriend. He’s a lot younger,” she added triumphantly, providing this last bit of gossip as conclusive proof of Minelli’s execrably bad taste.
    “But I’m sure the family is devastated. It’s obvious they thought a lot of her. Look at the rooms they gave her, with such beautiful views,” Elena said admiringly, hoping to draw the maid out further.
    Lucia lowered her voice even more, looking around before speaking. “The count hated her! He was furious when she took over his mother’s rooms, but the countess said they should let her be, that she’d be leaving soon. And Signora Artemisia, she hated her, too. She was always making fun of the way she dressed. We used to laugh together.”
    “I guess that stopped in January when Signora Minelli started dressing like her?”
    “Oh, no! Yesterday, they had a big row. I was cleaning the stairs and heard them talking very loud from Signora Artemisia’s room. Bada ai fatti tuoi! I heard Signora Artemisia say to the Americana.”
    “Mind your own business. That’s pretty brutal. I wonder why?”
    “Something about a book, I think. When I passed the room, the Americana was holding this large book, like one of those moldy books in the count’s library. I dust in there every Tuesday and Saturday,” she added, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “Signora Artemisia started talking in English when she saw me, so I don’t know what she said after that, but I could tell she was very angry.”
    “And the countess! She liked her niece?”
    “ Non lo so. But she’s a very nice lady, very kind to everyone. She used to sit with the count’s mother for hours talking to her and holding her hand, even when the old lady was gaga. She was very sick, you know, had that disease where you shake all over. I had to help Sophie put her into the shower.”
    “The information you just gave me about the quarrel between the Signora and the Americana , you must tell that to the commissario when he interviews you.”
    “Oh, I can’t!” Lucia responded, apparently forgetting that Elena was the police. “She’ll kill . . . be angry with me!” Lucia amended with a suppressed giggle, realizing the significance of her first choice of words.
    “You needn’t worry. Your interview with the commissario and Inspector Tonni is private. They won’t repeat anything you tell them unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
    The mention of the commissario redirected Lucia to warmer thoughts. “ Il commissario é molto bello . Is he married?”
    Elena smiled, but before she could respond, one of the forensic technicians interrupted to tell her they were finished. He was carrying a large see-through plastic folder containing loose papers, and a sealed manila envelope. “We found these hidden under the mattress,” he said, handing them over to Elena. “We’re finished dusting them for prints. These, too,” he added, and handed her two small diaries, bound in black leather.
    “So that’s where she hid them!” Lucia exclaimed. “Oops,”
    she added, and giggled again at her blunder.
    12
    WHILE INSPECTOR OTTAVIANI and the two technicians were in Rita Minelli’s rooms finally performing the search and secure operation so necessary to a murder investigation, the count gave the commissario and Piero the grand tour. They moved first to the outside of the house, to the area directly beyond the kitchen door. A neatly arranged vegetable garden was located to the right of the door, and it appeared that someone had recently been cleaning out the winter debris; a hoe had been left standing upright in one of the raised beds. A large merry-go-round of a clothesline was located to the left. Toward the front hung two pairs of women’s panties (red with black lace edging) while further back a few bedraggled dishtowels flapped in the wind. Cenni suppressed a smile when the count, who had also spied the skimpy undergarments, pushed the line vigorously until the dishtowels came to the