"It must have broken Nora's heart to have to let go of this beautiful place," Miss Barron said.
"She was selling?"
"Yes. She told me last night over dinner. The surprise left me speechless.
It's been in her family for over a century." "Did she say why she was selling?"
"It would have been improper to ask as I assumed she was in economic straits." Miss Barron sat back down. "Why else would she sell?"
To start a new life, Nico thought as he also sat down. That's why he'd sold his very modest Bronx apartment. "To go back to the music you heard last night. Can you tell me what time it woke you up?"
"I lay there listening for a few minutes. When I rose from the bed and checked my watch, it was eighteen past three in the morning. Nora loved the piano. She had hoped to be a concert pianist when she was young, but her father told her she didn't have enough talent and refused to pay for any more lessons. Parents can be so incredibly cruel. She played the adagio from Brahms's first piano concerto beautifully the first night I came."
"When was that?"
"Wednesday. Five days ago. Where was I?"
"You were checking the time. What happened after that?"
"I left my room and stopped at the top of the stairs." She glanced at the door as Vince walked in sideways holding a large tray with two cups, a silver teapot and a slice of cake on a plate.
"It is my wife's pinoli cake," Vince said. "The signora needs it more than I do. For you, coffee. Sorry, I only had one slice."
"Good thinking, thanks," Nico said, his annoyance at the interruption mitigated by the arrival of much-needed coffee.
Miss Barron clasped her hands together as Vince lowered the tray onto a long bench that acted as a coffee table. "Grazie molto, Signore. Grazie."
Vince stood up and bobbed his head with pleasure. "Tanke you, lady." He walked out backward, adding, "Gianconi and the forensic team are at the gate." That meant they would be taking over the place in a few minutes.
"How very kind," Miss Barron said, sitting back down and pouring milk into her cup, followed by the tea. "Who is Gianconi?"
"The medical examiner."
"He will take Nora away?"
"Yes, to his lab in Florence."
"God bless her. I have already said my goodbye to her. She was a sad woman, at times angry and difficult, but intriguing, full of fascinating stories. I have a weakness for stories." Miss Barron broke off the tip of the thick slice and took a bite. She closed her eyes for a moment as she chewed. "This is lovely." She held out the plate.
"For me?" Nico asked.
"Yes, please share it with me."
Nico noticed a hint of a smile, took a small piece and popped it in his mouth. "Thank you." Maybe he was making headway in the trust department. Miss Barron sat back in the armchair and took a long sip of her tea.
"Where was I in the story?"
"You stopped at the top of the stairs."
"When I reached the top of the stairs, she had finished the adagio. I waited for her to start the second movement. She didn't. I stood still for a few minutes, debating whether I should disturb her or if I should go back to bed. Unfortunately, curiosity got the better of me."
"You could see the door to the music room from the top of the stairs?"
Miss Barron gave Nico a piercing look. "You obviously find interruptions necessary. Since I have a tendency to stray from the topic, which can be annoying, I will consider us even. To answer your question, from where I stood, I saw only the two bottom halves of the door. They were closed. Nora didn't come out or play again, and I wondered if she might like a cup of tea or company. Now you will ask how long I waited before going down. Maybe three or four minutes. Perhaps more. When I reached the closed door, I called out to her. 'That was lovely, Nora.' Of course, she didn't answer. The room was dark when I walked in. I turned on the light and found her collapsed over the piano. I ran to her and saw the cord hanging from her neck." Miss Barron paused for a moment before saying, "I checked her pulse. She had left our world."
"Did you move anything?"
