The Spia Family Presses On - By Mary Leo Page 0,114
at least according to Babe, and then on Dickey’s finger. It has a long history. Kind of creepy, if you ask me, especially now that Dickey’s been murdered. Why your dad would want that damn bad luck bauble is beyond me, but he does. That’s why Giuseppe’s here, that, and to kill Dickey if he was reluctant to give it back. There was probably more to it than just the ring. Maybe a vendetta because your dad really thought Dickey killed Carla, but I think Dickey convinced Giuseppe that he didn’t do it.”
“What do you believe?”
“Dickey didn’t kill her. Had no reason to. Somebody set him up, just like the evidence proved.”
“No, I mean about Giuseppe.”
“I know that nice boy didn’t whack Dickey, because if he did, he’d be on a plane back to Italy with the ring instead of hanging around our land. Although, he does make a mean tapenade. Better than Federico’s, but don’t tell Federico I said that. He’d never forgive me.”
Facts were finally taking shape. I was able to understand a few more things about the past. But why would my dad want to kill Dickey for Carla’s murder? What was the connection?
I’d have to come back to that.
“Let’s put that aside for the moment. Were you ever in the barn with Dickey?”
She nodded. “Of course I was,” she whispered so softly I could barely hear her. “We planned it that way.”
“Explain please.”
“He wanted to nab the person who framed him for Carla’s murder. The ring was the bait. He figured that person wouldn’t try anything funny out in the yard, so he put himself in the barn where he could have some privacy.”
“Did he tell you who he was waiting for?”
“Carla’s killer. Try to keep up, dear.”
I sighed. “I mean specifically. I have a hunch who did it and I want to see if Dickey suspected the same person.”
“He told me he had a lot of time to think about the frame-up in prison, and he had crossed everyone off his list except four people. Personally, I think it was that damn Liz Harrington, but she was in a straight jacket in some mental institution when Carla was killed. I know, I checked.”
“Who are the four people?”
“Babe, because he knew she saw them together the morning of Carla’s murder.”
“Babe thinks he never saw her.”
“Yeah, but Jimmy was in the car, too.”
“So, he told Dickey?”
“You betcha.”
“Anybody else?”
“Jimmy.”
“Why him?”
“Because Jimmy can’t be trusted. Plus, Dickey always thought Jimmy was Carla’s secret lover and when he saw her kissing Dickey he went ballistic.”
“Wasn’t she a little old for him?”
“Cougars have been around for awhile, sweetheart.”
Still, I couldn’t picture Jimmy and Carla. Something didn’t quite fit there.
“Who else?”
“Federico, but I think his name came up because the two of them were at odds when they first bought this land and hired Federico to help him. Dickey wanted to grow grapes and Federico wanted olives. They fought long and hard, and some people even speculated that Dickey torched Federico’s restaurant to make his point.”
Federico owned and operated a successful Italian restaurant on Columbus Street in North Beach. It burnt to the ground about two years before Dickey went to prison. If this was true, Federico had motive.
“I thought there was a fire in the kitchen. Hot oil or something. Why didn’t I know about the suspected arson?”
“You were too under the weather to focus, darling.” Another of her terms for my binges. “But Federico was in Texas buying olive trees the night Carla was murdered. I think the cops questioned him. Hell, they questioned everybody who knew her, but he was released. I guess his alibi stuck, at least for the cops. Dickey, not so much.”
“Who else?”
“Me,” she giggled. “Can you imagine?”
I somehow could imagine, even though I knew she didn’t do it. “Why would Dickey think you killed Carla and set him up?”
“Well, Carla was an odd duck, and went around telling everyone that I killed your dad because he had been cheating on me with her, and I buried him in Babe’s garden in San Francisco. Do you remember her garden? It was quite spectacular.”
“Had he been cheating on you with Carla?”
She sighed. “Sorry to say, yes. He did.”
I had to hand it to Carla, the woman really got around.
I knew how vindictive my mom could be, but looking at her now, behind the glass, I seriously doubted she could ever murder someone. Punch out their lights a few times, yes, but murder?