Free Il Pane Della Vita by Coralie Hughes Jensen

Velo arrives at the back door every morning, very early, and I pack up the warm loaves for him.”
    “How long has this bakery been in business here?”
    “ More than four or five years now. Yes, this year is my fifth. The previous baker had to retire, and I was here to pay him for the store and equipment. It was a good deal for us both.”
    “Did he also sell to the monastery?”
    “I do not think so. I believe they baked their own bread. In fact they still do, but they cannot produce nearly enough for the number of monks there. They came to me a few years after I opened and asked me to bake for them.”
    “I’m surprised they haven’t asked for pastries too.”
    The monk laughed. “Father Rafaello worries we’ll get too fat. We don’t work in the fields as some monks do. We make wine, beer, cheese and produce artwork. We sit and chant most of the time. Can you imagine what we’d look like if we ate pastries every day?”
    “You exercise when you go to Avalle, do you not?”
    “Yes. Once a month we go to town and dance like we’re crazy. Unfortunately, what calories we burn off, we make up for with beer and other alcoholic beverages. You know that, Ignazio. You often have to come drive us home because we can’t see straight.”
    “ Allora ,” said Bassi. “I have to drive them home when they call and then find a way to get their car back to the monastery too.”
    The nun again turned to Nico. “Did you see the explosion?”
    “No, I was too busy. Gina went out with friends that evening. She certainly deserves a night off. Anyway, I was alone and busy making the bread. I did not know anything had happened until the monastery came to pick up the loaves the next morning. I asked Gina if she heard anything, and she was just as surprised as I was.”
    “Did you know Brother Pietro?”
    Nico looked away for just a second. “I am sorry. I thought I heard something. I thought Gina would be coming out with more pannitone . You say it was Brother Pietro? No. Has he ever been sent here to pick up bread?”
    “ No, he is an eremita ,” said Brother Salvatore. “He would never come for that.”
    “ Then no, I would not know him. He was the one who was killed?”
    “They haven’t found the body,” said Brother Salvatore. “Perhaps he’s floating among the clouds.”
    “Ah,” said Nico, again distracted. “I should make sure the pannitone is not burning.” He walked away, pocketing the change Sister Angela had given him.
    Brother Salvatore looked at the nun. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have told him about the body.”
    Her mind taking in what the baker had told them, Sister Angela had barely heard him. “I’m sure the story will be in the papers soon,” she said. “But no, it isn’t a good idea to tell people what we’re investigating. Nico is talkative. The whole village will probably know about our dilemma soon.

    The nun walked into the power company just down the road and introduced herself to the receptionist who let her into the manager’s office. The nun sat down i n front of his desk. “Mr. Lippi, you have probably heard that there was a gas explosion at the hermitage up the hill. Were you here when the tank was installed?”
    “No, Sister. I’ ve already spoken with the police. The tank is intact. The incident must have happened in the cottage.”
    “I suppose the police showed you the devices used to ignite the explosion.”
    “Yes. The detective showed me cuts in the pipes. That part of the pipe was exposed. The pipe inside the walls would have been hidden and difficult to get to without damage to the wall. The small device could have ignited the gas after the leakage. The bigger device was probably not involved in the explosion, and I told them I had no idea why it was used.”
    “I want to see the records of visits by your field workers.”
    “Fo r how long? That would take the people in this office weeks to gather.”
    “How many workers do you have?”
    “We have five. That