“ Francesco Martucci and I had arrived at an imposing mausoleum that reminded me of the one in which Uncle Claudio’s remains now lay. I halted for a moment with the strange sense that I was being watched. Subtly I turned and caught a glimpse of a silhouette between the gravestones and the spindly cypress trees. A man holding a book was walking around enjoying the vegetation—an American tourist. You can spot them a mile away. Brother Martucci looked in the same direction with no attempt at s...ubtlety. “We had better be going.” I smiled like we were having a totally normal conversation, feigning interest in the spotted cat that had recently crossed our path. Still smiling, I said, “I don’t know why, but I feel like someone’s following us. There can’t be many rats around here,” I added, for the sake of banal chatter. “The cat population in this cemetery grows by the day, but no one does anything about it.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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