The Body in the Piazza - By Katherine Hall Page Page 0,80

they prepared the marinated veal chops, adding plenty of fresh sage, and then divided into two groups to make the ragus, one meatless. They would both need to simmer (see recipe in Excerpts from Have Faith in Your Kitchen).

Afterward, each person’s dough was retrieved, and soon all were engaged in rolling long strands out by hand. Faith again felt transported back to nursery school. They weren’t going to coil the results into a pot, but the atmosphere was much the same. Roderick, wineglass in hand, wasn’t even pretending to try. Olivia, predictably, was the best and soon had a tray of pici all the same length and thickness.

“You must be a ringer,” Jack called out. “If we’re going to eat tonight, you’d better come help me. The darn things keep coming apart.”

Sally seemed to be the photographer and her aunt the note taker. “I want to write down the sauces,” Hattie said. “Are all the ones on these sheets going to be in the binder?” They’d finished their trays, a more than creditable job.

“I’m adding one, but it is so simple, you will remember. In any case, I’ll put it in with the rest,” Francesca said.

As at each lesson, Francesca had passed out the copies of the recipes they were making at the time—and they would get smeared with oil, flour, and other ingredients. It was a great idea to provide everyone with what amounted to a little cookbook, pristine, to take home at the end.

“What is it? I want to write it down anyway.” Hattie clicked her ballpoint and started to write something down. “Oh, H-E-double hockey sticks! This pen doesn’t work!”

“I think I have one,” Tom said and pulled a pen from his pants pocket. He’d changed into his chinos after his swim, the same ones he’d been wearing in Rome. Faith tried to stop him. It wasn’t just a pen. It was Freddy’s pen. She didn’t want to lose it.

Sometimes telepathy works. As Tom was handing it to Hattie he said, “I’ll need to have it back, though. It belonged to a friend of ours.” He looked over at the Rossis. “Freddy—Freddy Ives.” They both nodded. “Anyway it has sentimental value, but please use it tonight.”

“Thank you, darlin.’ I’ll take very good care of it.”

Except it immediately slipped from Hattie’s hand, which was still slightly moist from rolling out the strands of pasta, and fell on the hard surface of the table before dropping to the ground.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said. “I hope it’s not broken!”

The old-fashioned fountain pen had split open and Faith grabbed the towel from her waist to mop up the ink before it could stain the flooring. But there wasn’t any ink. There wasn’t a cartridge either. Just the cap and point, now separated, and the barrel with a small rolled-up piece of paper poking out. Hattie grabbed it.

“Did you know there was a message in here? Like in a bottle!” She sounded excited, and the rest of the group looked over. Faith quickly took the paper from Hattie’s hand and bent to pick up the pen parts.

“Oh yes, that’s what made it special. His note. Tom, you must have forgotten that the pen didn’t work, but I have a pencil. Will that do?”

It would, and the whole incident was over as soon as it began.

But not for Faith. That’s what Freddy had been trying to tell them. He’d concealed something in the pen, information of some kind. She wanted to dash up to her room to read it immediately. She was back in the Piazza Farnese hearing Freddy’s words, “You have to stop them. They’re going to ki . . .” and then once more he had said “pen.” Her pici were done, yet she stayed where she was. She couldn’t explain it, but she felt that there had been a subtle change in the room—a heightened awareness coming from someone that made her decide to bide her time.

Less than two hours later, they were all digging into the fruits of their labor—another memorable meal around the large, now-familiar dining room table. Francesca’s three sauces were the traditional Montepulciano one, Pici Cacio e Pepe—only three ingredients: the cooked pici tossed in a large skillet with a bit of the pasta water, grated pecorino, and a very generous amount of freshly ground black pepper; another simple preparation adding garlic, oil, and parsley to the Pici Cacio e Pepe; and finally the two ragus, a meatless one and one with pancetta—the bacon from