The Italian I Was Never Supposed to Understand novel · Chapter 23 of 32
Chapter 23: The Press
Tommaso's mother put her fork down.
She leaned toward the screen and read the numbers twice, her lips moving.
"Oh four hundred," she said. "Oh four three five."
"It's his catalogue," said his brother. "Lot fourteen. Bidding opens Saturday."
"He's selling your father's wine," she said, to nobody. "Under his own name. With our numbers."
Tommaso was already on the phone to the carabinieri officer.
He put it on speaker in the middle of the table, between the bread and the salt.
The officer listened to all of it.
Then he sighed.
"It's a photograph on a website, signore. Bellandi says the numbers are a coincidence. The judge in Alba won't sign a search for a coincidence."
"It's thirty-six coincidences," I said in Italian.
"Then bring me one bottle, signora. One. In my hand."
He hung up politely.
Then his mother stood up and took her coat off the hook.
"The grapes are picked," she said. "They don't care about any of this. Tonight we crush."
The press house was a long stone building at the bottom of the courtyard.
The rest of this chapter is part of the paid portion of the series. Chapters 1–16 of The Italian I Was Never Supposed to Understand are free to read — start from the beginning, then unlock the rest with coins in the app.
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