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Pampinea relaxed a bit. “Lucia, everybody knows all about the missing relics, one after the other for weeks, it’s all we hear. It’s why we finally decided to lea—haven’t you any better gossip, I mean?”

Had she. Lucia thought about the missing saint finger and the bottle in her purse. About the convicted heretic now living in her home, who cured the plague with magic jewels and had a big scar on her nose and who was the amante of Elissa’s husband. But all of this must be kept secret. For now, at least. She had promised.

“Well, I have been shut up that whole time, and since I missed the processions, I admit I was curious. Santa Reparata is unlocked, though you are right everyone in the parish must be dead. I was the only person in the whole place, I swear it.”

The group leaned in, forgetting their fear of contagion in their hunger for a bit of conversation.

“And you went in all by yourself? Is that dead stonemason still up there? What did you find?”

“Nothing, I found nothing. Though I crouched down on the dirty floor to look—the silver head is there the same as before except empty, I suppose. And the Baptistry is locked so I couldn’t even see where the Filippo Arm is stored. Do you know how to get into the Baptistry when nobody is being baptized?”

They all shook their heads.

“Lucia, why are you doing all this? Do you think you can catch the thief?” Pampinea said incredulously.

“Of course not.” (Another lie she’d have to tell San Tommaso about.) “I just find it fascinating. Somebody must know. And the fact that relics were stolen from the church makes it all the more sordid.”

“Lucia,” said Pampinea, “this is hardly the most sordid crime happening.”

The group leaned in again.

“Oh?”

“I mean, it’s not a thing to discuss in church...”

With only the slightest bit of encouragement, Pampinea crossed herself and continued:

“I suppose I’ll just have to go to confession later. Well: I have heard that many of our fellow citizens are determined to make a good time of what time is left. They do this by entering properties left untended and enjoying their goods. It’s a very popular pastime, for a certain type.”

“How do you know this?”

Pampinea shrugged. “I have a cousin who’s a bit of a rogue. He’s in love with me, so he tells me whatever I ask him. You know, it is probably these same shameful people stealing the relics. Some say they are angry at God for not helping us, so they mock Him.”

All the ladies crossed themselves.

“But...how would they find each other?” asked Lucia.

“It’s easy, because like attracts like. The same as in any time, you can find those vile folks drinking themselves into a stupor at the trattoria Alle Panche.”

Alle Panche. Even Lucia knew of that infamous place. “I thought all the drinking houses—all businesses—are closed now. As Elissa said.”

“It is true during the daytime, but these thieves need a place to spend what they’ve stolen, so after dark, the tavern breaks curfew. I mean, who is there to stop them? They run about by torchlight like devils and go to the tavern and drink cheap wine from stolen silver. They show off what they have robbed and trade it amongst themselves. But it is not just common criminals there. Some of our own class—and even the clergy—go, determined to indulge in as many sinful activities as possible. They have no scruples of eating, drinking, and fornicating with whomever they choose. Once they find their band at Alle Panche, they make their wicked plans. Every night, they take over the houses of those who fled, and empty all their provisions and wear their clothes.”

Lucia was glad she had locked the door to her house when she left. Silence filled the sanctuary after Pampinea’s story. She realized the women were still waiting for her to leave, so they could get on with their planning. Fine, then. She was tired of pretending not to notice.

“I suppose I’ll go home, then, before it is too late. The afternoon shadows grow long, and as you said, there are nasty people about.”

“Good idea,” agreed Pampinea. “Well, goodbye, then.”

Lucia turned and went toward the doorway, willing herself not to cry about the missing Tommaso, about being uninvited to their holiday.

“Wait!” called Pampinea as she neared the door. Lucia turned around, hopefully. “Lucia, I know I made it sound terribly exciting, and you seem almost as bored as Elissa, but don’t get any ideas about going to Alle Panche—it really is too much for one of your delicate sensibilities.”

Lucia smiled graciously, and walked out of the church into the dusty, deserted city. Never mind them. Soon she would become a woman so interesting nobody would dare leave her behind. She clutched the mysterious bottle in her purse, certain of one thing: she must visit the trattoria Alle Panche as soon as possible.

TWENTY-EIGHT

RUBY RED CLARET