Broken Chord

by Margaret Moore

Then he was gone and Tebaldo spent the next quarter of an hour in the bathroom. He washed his face and rinsed his mouth out again then, pulling his robe tightly around him, went back to the study.

  He heard the screams clearly, everyone in the house must have heard them, the cries of anguish, wrenched from the woman who had loved Lapo despite all his faults. Marta was hysterical. She continued screaming for what seemed like hours. The cries were still ringing in his ears even after they had subsided into sobs. Would she have cried like that for him, he asked himself, but he knew the answer. She had loved Lapo in a totally unreasonable way, which is to say she’d just loved him without knowing why. He was the child she had lost, the child she had been ready to love, and although she didn’t realise it, he had been an extremely ungrateful recipient of her love, calling her names behind her back: the inquisitor, big-ears, the private dick, and complaining that she wanted to know his every move, that she watched him like a hawk and because he knew that she waited every night to hear his step on the stair before falling asleep.

  Dragonetti came back into the room. “Marta’s husband has called their doctor. I’m afraid she’s totally out of it.”

  “She loved him. She adored him.”

  “Did he love her too?”

  “No. He was fond of her, I suppose, but Lapo wasn’t capable of love.”

  “Some people aren’t.”

  Tebaldo digested that and said, “I’d never thought about it but suppose you’re right.”

  “Now, let’s get the details down. When did you last see your brother?”

  “At dinner last night. He went out straight afterwards.”

  “Any idea where he went?”

  “No. He wasn’t ever very forthcoming about his nocturnal activities.”

  “Weren’t you worried when he didn’t come down to breakfast?”

  “No, he very often didn’t. Lapo comes… used to come back very late, usually at about three or four in the morning so he generally slept in.”

  “What about lunch?”

  “We were a little surprised when he didn’t come to lunch but it wasn’t that unusual. My wife started getting worried, so Marianna checked that his car was in the garage and we just thought he was sleeping late.”

  “She actually opened the garage door?”

  “Yes, just enough to see if the car was there. When we knew it was, Isabella was reassured, at first. Later on she asked me to go up to his room and check if he was alright.”

  “And did you?”

  “Yes. I saw his bed was made, so I thought he’d got up and gone out, but just to be sure I asked Franca if she’d remade his bed but she hadn’t. I think that’s when I got really worried.”

  “And decided to look in the car.”

  “Yes, I thought perhaps he’d been drunk and fallen asleep in the car. When I saw it was empty, I felt a great wave of relief, until… I, well, I stepped in his blood.”

  “And you saw the body.”

  “Yes, I lifted the tarpaulin enough to see…” He put a handkerchief to his mouth and took a deep breath. “I didn’t touch him… anything. I left everything the way it was and called you.”

  “The pathologist is with him now. He’ll give us a rough estimate of time of death, but presumably it happened during the night, when he arrived home, whatever time that was. Where were you last night?”

  “Asleep in bed. With my wife.”

  “Alright. What were you wearing yesterday?”

  “Er, chinos and a polo shirt.”

  “Bruno, could you go with him and collect them and whatever he was wearing in bed.”

  Teo stood up like a sleep-walker. “I didn’t murder my brother.”

  “But you found his body and you were right there when your mother’s body was discovered. Was that a clever move on your part to make quite sure that any sign of your presence at the crime scene could be accounted for?”

  “No!”

  Bruno grabbed his arm and escorted him from the room.

  Dragonetti sighed. The only good thing about this death was that it limited the number of suspects for the first death, or did it? Were there two killers? Had Lapo killed his mother? Had someone killed him for that reason, and with the same sort of weapon? Teo had been distraught and sickened by his mother’s death and his physical reaction was the same for this murder, or was he just a very good actor? Either he’d killed them both and forgotten, which was a perfectly feasible reaction of the psyche to horrendous events, or he could have killed Lapo because he knew that his brother had killed Ursula. In that case, why not tell the police about his suspicions? Perhaps he’d only just realised. Perhaps a little slip of the tongue had given the game away. After all, Lapo supposedly hadn’t seen Ursula’s body, but Teo had. He knew exactly what injuries had been inflicted, what mutilations had been carried out and Lapo didn’t. If Lapo had mentioned something that he apparently couldn’t have known, then Teo would have known that his brother was a murderer. So that could make Teo the prime suspect for Lapo’s murder. That was one rather improbable solution.

  Alternatively, there was Guido, who had until now been the prime suspect for Ursula’s murder, and had no reason for killing Lapo. Unless of course, Lapo had seen him that night and was blackmailing him. He gave up on that line of thought. It was too ridiculous. Lapo would have no reason to do that and would have been only too pleased to see Guido arrested.

  Teo and Isabella gave each other an alibi, which left Marianna as the only other suspect. It was hard to imagine this young girl ruthlessly murdering her mother and her brother, but it was possible. She would probably have no alibi for this murder and she’d had none for her mother’s.

  Of course there was always the nefarious Ozzie, Claudio Rossi, but that would be hard to prove. His only hope was that crime scene investigators would turn up something useful.

  Bruno came back in without Tebaldo.

  “Do you want him brought back, Drago?”

  “No, tell him to join his wife and stay in the bedroom. I don’t want people running about all over the house. I want Marianna brought here as soon as she arrives. So… what do you think?”

  “It’s tempting to think that whoever killed Ursula killed Lapo, but I’m not so sure. What about you, Drago?”

  “I agree. It would be nice if it were the same person but we mustn’t bank on it. We have to treat them as separate murders. The connections are obvious: same family, same house, same kind of weapon, but what about motive?”

  “Retaliation, because Lapo killed his mother?”

  “Agreed, an obvious one, so which of the family members would do that?”

  “Tebaldo looks good for it. He could have deliberately covered his tracks by finding the body, once again.”

  “Right. Go and get his wife. He can stay with the children.”

  Bruno was back very quickly, with Isabella in tow.

  “Sit down Signora. I need to ask you some questions and it’s very important that you answer truthfully.”

  Of course.” She sounded offended.

  “Don’t let’s play games. You didn’t tell me the truth last time.”

  “About what?”

  “About your husband’s movements on the night your mother-in-law was killed.”

  “I did.”

  “No, you lied. He left the bedroom that night.”

  “Not to my knowledge. Who says he did?”

  “Forget that. Let’s talk about last night. Did he leave the room last night?”

  Isabella felt tears spring to her eyes. No, Teo hadn’t left the room last night, not to her knowledge. He’d woken at three and reached for her and they’d made love and she’d allowed herself to hope. After that she’d slept like a log. “My husband was in bed all night with me.”

  “You will swear to that.”

  “Yes, as far as I know. I don’t keep waking up and checking whether or not he’s there.” But that was precisely what she had done every night for the last few months, until last nig
ht.

  “Why were you so worried about Lapo? Your husband says you insisted he look for him.”

  “I felt uneasy. After what had happened to Ursula, I couldn’t just ignore the fact that he hadn’t been seen all day.”

  “Did the others share your concern?”

  “Marianna looked in the garage and then Teo went and looked in his bedroom, but that was later. So, yes, but Marianna was… well, all of us were reassured when we saw his car was here. It was only later when we realised he hadn’t slept in his bed that we got really worried. The rest you know.”

  “What sort of a person was your brother-in-law?”

  “He wasn’t very nice. He was cruel and hurtful.”

  “Could he have killed his mother?”

  “I’ve no doubt he could have killed anyone if he wanted to, I mean, he liked hurting people. But why should he kill Ursula?”

  “They hadn’t had a disagreement about anything recently?”

  “Come on, no one kills their mother because of a disagreement.”

  “You think not? I know of a case where a boy killed his mother because she refused to give him the money to go to a football match. Motive is whatever makes someone act. It can be a spur of the moment thing, a sudden murderous spurt of rage, or a long-planned, well-thought-out murder, or it can even be because someone hears a voice in their head telling them that they must kill that particular person, or because to kill gives the murderer pleasure, but the reason has to be there and it’s called motive.”

  “Well, I wasn’t aware that there was any problem. There had been in the past. Lapo was no angel, he hurt people and Ursula paid.”

  “You know that for a fact.”

  “Teo told me. He didn’t like that aspect of his brother, but he understood why Lapo needed to hurt others. Teo says it’s because he’d been so hurt just by being born.”

  “I’m not a psychologist but I think you’ve just described someone with what I shall call, ‘serious problems’.”

  “Oh yes, we all knew Lapo had problems but you can’t make someone go to a psychiatrist, they have to choose to go and he didn’t.”

  “So you didn’t like Lapo.”

  “No, he didn’t even want to be liked and he certainly didn’t like me.”

  “But you were worried about him.”

  “I know. It’s a paradox, but there you are. I couldn’t help worrying. If you don’t like someone it doesn’t necessarily mean you want them dead.”

  “It’s a question of degree.”

  “Well my dislike wasn’t that strong. I don’t live here all the time. I put up with Teo’s family for those periods we spend here two or three times a year. I don’t like any of them and they don’t like me, but then I go home.”

  “And while you’re here they make you feel unhappy, perhaps even humiliated.”

  “To some degree, yes. They look down their noses at me and they laugh at me. When I’m here I feel all wrong.”

  “And you never felt murderous?”

  “I told you that Ursula made me want to murder her sometimes, but I would never have done it. I suppose it was stupid of me to say that but you wanted the truth.”

  “That’s all I ever want, but as we both know, that’s not what I always get.”

  “From what you say, it seems you think Lapo might have killed Ursula, but if he did, who killed him?” Isabella looked him straight in the eye.

  “That’s what I’m going to find out.”

  “But surely the same person killed them both. There can’t be two killers.”

  “You may be right but I can’t ignore it as a hypothesis, though I admit it’s unlikely.”

  “So you think it’s one of us, either me, Teo or Marianna.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to.”

  “Alright, that’s enough. Send your husband back down and give my man the clothes you were wearing last night.”

  “My night clothes?”

  “And the clothes you were wearing before you went to bed.”

  “So you really do think it might have been me.”

  Dragonetti made no reply.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Marianna arrived by taxi again, stepped smiling from the car in her white dress and approached the gate. Then she froze. There had been a uniformed policeman at the gate, as usual, to keep reporters at bay but the garden seemed to be full of vehicles and men. She swayed for a moment then took a deep breath and said, “Why have you all come back?”

  A police officer came over,

  “Who are you?” he asked, noting the pallor under her tan.

  “Marianna Ghiberti. I live here.”

  The man repeated her name into his radio, listened for a moment and then said, “I’ll escort you to the house.”

  “No, I’ll go on my own. I live here. Do you think I don’t know the way?”

  “No, it’s not that. Dottor Dragonetti wants to talk to you.”

  “Dragonetti!” She caught her breath. “Oh. I see. Well, in that case.” They walked side by side towards the house. She felt as though she was moving in a dream, hardly aware that her feet were touching the ground. She was handed over to another policeman who accompanied her to her mother’s studio, which once again had been taken over by Jacopo Dragonetti and his assistant. By now, she realised that something must have happened, something bad enough to bring them all back again. She paused in the doorway, a vision of ethereal beauty, her pallor now quite evident.

  “What’s happened?” she asked faintly.

  “Signorina Ghiberti, I’m sorry but…”

  Her face contorted as she interrupted him. “Has someone else been killed?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid so.”

  “Who?” she whispered.

  Dragonetti advanced and stretched out an arm towards her. It all seemed to be happening in slow motion, “Who?” she repeated quietly.

  “It’s Lapo.”

  She crumpled quite swiftly to the ground before Dragonetti could halt her fall.

  Teo, coming downstairs with Bruno, saw his sister lying on the floor with Dragonetti bent over her body.

  “Marianna!”

  “It’s alright, she’s fainted.”

  “Marianna, it’s me Teo.”

  She opened her eyes and murmured, “Lapo’s dead, Teo. Who’s next?”

  Dragonetti helped her to sit up. “Stay on the floor. I’ll help you to your feet in a moment. Take a few deep breaths.”

  “I’m sorry,” she muttered. They all waited in silence while she sat breathing deeply and slowly.

  “How do you feel? Do you want to try and stand up? We’ll get you to a chair.”

  “Yes, I’ll be alright now. It was just… you know, the shock, I suppose.”

  Dragonetti signalled Bruno and the two of them gently raised her and supported her, half carrying her to a chair where they sat her down again.

  “Bruno, I think a glass of water…”

  Bruno sped off to the kitchen.

  “She hasn’t eaten today,” Teo said.

  “Is that true, Marianna?”

  “I wasn’t hungry.”

  “None of us is hungry but we have to eat something,” Teo said reprovingly.

  “I know, Teo, but I couldn’t.”

  “Well, I think you should now,” Dragonetti said firmly.

  Bruno arrived with the glass of water.

  “Is there anyone in the kitchen?” asked Dragonetti

  “Yes, cook and Franca.”

  “Ask them to get something for Marianna to eat, something light will do.”

  “I don’t want to eat.”

  “You must. Marta’s doctor is downstairs with her at the moment. I think perhaps he should check you over.”

  “I don’t want all this fuss. I just want to go and lie down. I’ll be alright.”

  “No, first you eat something. If you won’t do it for yourself then eat a little just to please me and your brother. Think of it
as a duty.”

  Marianna managed a weak smile. “If you put it like that, how can I refuse? Why has the doctor come? What’s wrong with Marta?”

  “The same thing that’s wrong with you. Shock.”

  “I see. Of course, poor Marta. She adored Lapo. God knows why.” She looked up at her brother and asked, “So, who’s next, Teo?”

  Marta was curled up in foetal position in her bed. Her shoulders shook as she wept and moaned, “Lapo, my lovely boy,” over and over again.

  The doctor plunged the needle into her and emptied the syringe. Within a few moments she was asleep. He felt her pulse and then straightened up. “She’ll sleep for quite a while. When she wakes up, see how she is. I’ll leave you another dose which you can give her if necessary. You do know how to give an injection?”

  “Yes, of course,” replied Piero. “It’s all been too much for her, first Madam and now Lapo. It was such a terrible shock. She was very attached to the boy.”

  “Most people don’t ever rub shoulders with murder, but there’ve been two in a row here so it’s quite understandable that she should have broken down. Time is the great healer in these cases.”

  “Yes, let’s hope so,” muttered Piero, thinking, ‘that’s what they always say’, but he knew that some people never get over a normal death let alone a brutal murder.

  A knock at the door broke off further conversation. Piero opened the door.

  “Is the doctor still here?” asked Bruno.

  “Yes.”

  “He’s needed upstairs.”

  The doctor appeared at his shoulder. “Is it urgent? Only I’ve left a full waiting room.”

  “It won’t take a moment. It’s a young girl who’s fainted.”

  “Pregnant, is she?”

  “No, or at least I don’t think so. No, it’s Lapo’s sister, Marianna. Do you know her?”

  “No. The family has only lived here for a few months and I’ve never met any of them. Marta, of course, I do know. She’s been my patient ever since she came to live here.” He shook hands with Piero, muttered, “Call me if you’re worried,” grabbed his medical bag and followed Bruno upstairs.

  Isabella and Teo played with the children, helping them to construct a giant puzzle on the floor. Over the children’s heads, they looked at each other.