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technology helped plug the gaps to a certain extent. As soon as the tingling and throbbing and perfuming took place, Luciana would wave a scarf out their bedroom window, catching the attention of the widow Ciacci who lived across the lane and had a cell phone. She was then in charge of informing the other widows who still had appropriate use of eyes and fingers that a special meeting was to take place right away. This saved ageing bodies from scuttling up and down the steep streets of Montevedova knocking on doors and hissing at windows, which had once been the way it was done. With the League’s average age hovering somewhere perilously close to ninety-two, this was no longer feasible.
    On this occasion, most of the widows were already gathered by the time the sisters arrived, having entered through the other secret door to the side of the baptismal font in the church behind the pasticceria . Eight were sitting up in straight-backed wooden chairs in their favoured semicircle, while the ninth—the widowRossellini—slept peacefully, drooling slightly from the half smile she had been wearing when she had nodded off.
    â€˜ Buongiorno! ’ the ones who were awake called when the sisters shuffled in.
    â€˜Where’s the widow Del Grasso?’ Violetta asked. Experience had taught her that complications arose when instructions were issued while a League member was absent. Only half the ears in the League worked at the best of times, two-thirds of the eyes were faulty, and it could not be said that remembering things was anybody’s strongest point. They achieved their best results when they were all together and could ask the widow next to them what had just been said and what they should do about it.
    â€˜I definitely texted her,’ the widow Ciacci said.
    â€˜Widow Mazzetti, can you be in charge of filling her in later on?’ Violetta asked. The widow Mazzetti nodded vigorously. She was something of a Goody Two–Shoes and loved a chore.
    â€˜As for the rest of you, today is the day so those of you who can see, keep your eyes open, those of you who can hear, keep your ears open, and those of you who are asleep, stay as you are.’
    They all looked at the snoozing widow Rossellini, who obliged.
    â€˜Any activity leading to the identification of a likely calzino candidate should be reported to either Widow Ciacci up here or—Widow Ercolani, are you on duty at the tourist office downtown?’ asked Violetta. ‘You are? Good. Or to Widow Ercolani down there. Widow Pacini will be stationed in the doorway of her alimentare between the two. Everyone else, everywhere else, please maintain your usual spots in your own doorways and let’s pray to Santa Ana di Chisa that the day goes smoothly.’
    At this, there was a furtive knocking at the door and someone sprang up, not as speedy a process as it sounds, and pulled it open.
    It was the twelfth widow, the widow Del Grasso. And she was not alone.

Chapter 5
    F ear fluttering in her chest, Lily flew to the home office she and Daniel shared in the room that they had once called the Nursery but which they now referred to as the Library.
    The computer was on. An empty wine bottle and a glass sat next to it along with a yellow legal pad covered in scrawled times and destinations. The empty wine bottle was a worry because there was another one in the kitchen.
    Oh, no, Lily pleaded silently. Oh, please, please, no.
    She sat down and clicked on the first unread message in her e-mail Inbox.
    It was an itinerary that had her flying out of JFK at 5:15 P.M. that evening for Rome. Business Class. Non-refundable.
    Worse, the second unread message was from a rental car company, confirming her rental of a car—a stick shift!—from Fiumicino airport.
    The third unread message was from the Hotel Prato confirming her stay for a week in Montevedova.
    Montevedova? Is that where she thought Daniel was? But why? Surely he could be anywhere in