temptation in florence 03 - bankers death

by boeker, beate

  Valentino chuckled. “My, what a lot of fire you have.” He stepped to the side. “But I'll persevere, don't worry. My motto is that I can get anything I want, even if it takes a while.” He waved at her and pulled the heavy front door open. “There are several ways to skin a cat. Good night, sweet cousin.” The door closed with a bang behind him.

  Carlina shook off the image of herself as a skinned cat and hurried through the door that led to Uncle Teo's apartment. “Uncle Teo? Where are you?”

  “In here, my dear.” The old man was sitting at the kitchen table, his head in both hands.

  “Uncle Teo!” Carlina sat next to him. “What's the matter? Are you ill?”

  He lifted his head and stared at her out of lifeless eyes. “Oh, no, my dear. I'm just a bit . . . discouraged.”

  “Discouraged?” Carlina frowned and moved her chair closer. “Why?”

  A deep sigh shook his slim body. “It's nothing, my dear. Don't worry. I'll find a solution. Tomorrow, things will be better.”

  She took one of his hands. It felt cold. She started to chafe it. “I overheard a bit of your conversation with Valentino.” Remembering how often he had listened into her conversations when she had been talking with her friends, she did not feel it necessary to apologize. “Did he get you into trouble? Is that it?”

  Uncle Teo shook his head. “It was my mistake. My mistake alone.” He squared his shoulders. “But I will solve the problem.”

  Dread pooled at the bottom of Carlina's stomach. She had never seen Uncle Teo like this. So . . . quiet and deadly determined. What on earth does he have to return tomorrow morning? “Can I do anything to help?”

  “Oh, no.” Uncle Teo shook his head. “You stay out of it, my dear.”

  Carlina had difficulty swallowing. Had Uncle Teo managed to become involved with the Mafia? It sounded as if he expected a sort of reckoning tomorrow. Oh, Madonna.

  “Maybe Stefano could help? As a Commissario, he has more possibilities than we have, you know.” Like a gun, to begin with.

  Uncle Teo shook his head. “No. I need to do this on my own.” He gave her a smile that was only the empty shell of his former, cocky grin.

  It wrung her heart. “Won't you tell me, please? You can trust me. I won't tell anybody else.”

  Uncle Teo closed his eyes. “No, my dear. You are a good girl - a woman, I should say - but in this matter, nobody can help.” He made a visible effort to straighten his back. “Why did you come downstairs anyway?”

  Carlina pointed at the bread which she had put onto the table and promptly forgotten. “Mama asked me to bring you some of her self-made bread.”

  “Oh, dear.” Uncle Teo sounded resigned. “I only hope that this phase will soon be over. It's somewhat disheartening.”

  Carlina suppressed a smile. “You're right.” But it's not our biggest problem at the moment.

  Uncle Teo patted her hand. “Go to bed now, Carlina. It was kind of you to bring me this . . . bread.”

  With reluctance, she got up. “Not kind,” she said with a smile. “Just the easy way out.” She put her hands onto her great-uncle's shoulders and looked into his eyes. “Promise me something, Uncle Teo.”

  “Well, my dear?” A bit of his old self had returned; she could see it deep in his eyes.

  “Whatever the problem is, get yourself help. Don't go through this on your own if it's too difficult to bear.”

  He nodded, but she could tell that he only acknowledged her words - he had not agreed.

  A feeling of helplessness swamped her. “Good night, Uncle Teo.”

  With deep foreboding, she returned to her apartment on the top floor. Her feet felt heavier than usual. What on earth will happen tomorrow?

  Chapter 3

  When Carlina saw Uncle Teo the next day at lunchtime, she had trouble recognizing him. He tottered into Benedetta's kitchen, looking only half as large as usual. His face was pale, the wrinkles deeper than usual. She rushed to his side and took his arm. “Uncle Teo! What happened?”

  The rest of the family, already seated, lifted their heads with alacrity. “What's the matter?” Benedetta's red mouth puckered at the ends. She had not shown the slightest sign of remembering her threats from the day before when Carlina had walked into the kitchen for lunch, but that was probably only because she was biding her time, waiting for Carlina to take action to save her son.

  Ernesto had come as usual, but he kept his head low, and it was plain to see that he was trying to be as invisible as possible.

  His aunt Fabbiola, however, had waltzed in as always, carrying a gray-colored sort of bread pudding that not only revolted Benedetta but everyone else at the table. At least Fabbiola had enough sense not to have chosen her usual seat close to her sister and was now sitting with her back to the window at the far end of the table.

  Uncle Teo sank into his usual chair and groped with a trembling hand for a glass of water.

  Dread filled Carlina. She had been awake half the night, wondering how she could help Uncle Teo and what he could have done to be in such dire straits. When she had finally fallen asleep, nightmares of the Mafia chasing her whole family had made her slumber far from restful. Now, it seemed as if daylight proved to be worse. “Can you tell me what happened?” Her voice sounded pleading. Anything was better than not knowing.

  Uncle Teo looked at her, his bushy eyebrows drawn together. Then he took a deep breath that racked his whole body. He looked around the table, letting his gaze rest on everyone for one minute. An uneasy silence filled the kitchen as he focused on Emma and her husband Lucio, then Benedetta next to the Frenchman Leopold Morin, on Carlina who was side by side with the silent Ernesto, as well as his sister Annalisa, and last, on Carlina's mother Fabbiola and Simonetta, the opera singer.

  Uncle Teo cleared his throat. “It's good that you're all here, so you'll all be informed at the same time. I'm afraid I have to tell you bad news.”

  Ernesto's head shot up so fast that his red hair flopped back. He stared at his great-uncle with wide open eyes, but he didn't say a word.

  “What is it?” Fabbiola bent forward until her chest almost touched the gray bread pudding.

  Uncle Teo hesitated. “You see, I . . . . “ he took another deep breath. His voice sounded brittle. “I thought I would be very clever and invest some money, so you'll be all set, even after my death.”

  “But we're fine as we are!” Fabbiola lifted her eyebrows. “You've always helped us when there was need.”

  Uncle Teo gave her a weak smile. “Thank you, my dear. However, it's not enough, and I wanted to leave you in a better situation when I'm gone.”

  “But . . . “ Annalisa shook her shiny red hair. “I don't understand . . . “

  Uncle Teo held up a hand. “Let me finish, please.” He was quiet for a minute, as if he had to find the inner strength to go on.

  The clock above the door ticked through the silence.

  “To make a long story short,” he finally said, “I gave Valentino money to invest, and he lost it.”

  “What?” Benedetta jumped up. “He's a good-for-nothing loser, that one! I knew it! Can you go to the police? How can he lose the money you've given him?”

  “Please sit down,” Uncle Teo closed his eyes for a moment. “This is not a case for the police. I gave Valentino the money voluntarily. He promised to triple it within one year, but something went wrong.” He lifted his thin shoulders. “I can't say I understand it all, but he can't return the money at the moment.”

  “But . . . “ Fabbiola frowned. “Is it a lot of money? Did he say he would return it at a later point of time?”

  Uncle Teo sat as if frozen. “It does not seem to be possible to get the money back in the immediate future. He says we have to wait.”

  “But in that case, it's not so bad,” Carlina wanted to do anything to wipe that look of hopelessness from her great-uncle's face. She bent forward and covered his hand with hers. “You just wait a little longer, and maybe Valentino can return the
money next year or so.” However, even as the words left her mouth, she remembered the mysterious “they” who “wanted the money back”. Who were they? Why was it so urgent?

  Uncle Teo shook his head. “We don't have time. You see, the bank is asking for it.”

  “The bank?” Benedetta frowned. “But these were your savings. They should not have any say in that at all. After all, you can do what you want with your savings.”

  “These weren't my savings.” Uncle Teo sighed. “It was a mortgage I took up on this house, and I have to pay it back immediately, or we'll all be kicked out.”

  For an instant, nobody said anything. It was as if a silent bomb had exploded, leaving nothing in its wake, not even a tremor of feeling.

  Then Annalisa jumped up and screamed. “Are you telling us we're all going to be on the street, homeless?”

  Uncle Teo stared at the table without moving.

  “Annalisa, please.” Her mother got up and put her arms around her. “Pull yourself together. I'm sure it's not as bad as that? Teo?” She looked over her shoulder.

  “I'm sorry, Benedetta.” Uncle Teo didn't meet her eyes.

  “But . . . “ Ernesto paled. “I'm sure there's a mistake somewhere. Valentino wouldn't do this to us.”

  Uncle Teo didn't reply. He just moved his head from right to left in slow motion.

  “Where is he anyway?” Fabbiola pushed her chin forward. “I want to talk to him. Let him explain what's happening!”

  “He's in a business meeting all day,” Uncle Teo said. “I'm not sure at what time we can expect him at home tonight.”

  “Home!” Lucio's voice was fierce. “I can't believe he would dare to come here again, after what he has done!”

  Uncle Teo shrugged. “I took out the mortgage. I believed him. It was my mistake, not his.”

  “But he promised to return the money three times!” Red blotches of anger appeared on Fabbiola's face. “And now he says it's all gone. How can he do that?” Her voice got louder with every word. “At the same time, he's flaunting his riches, drives around in a Mercedes convertible and shows everybody who wants to see it or not a platinum watch from some famous Swiss company that probably cost more than half the house!”

  “It cost twenty-five thousand Euros.” Ernesto's voice was bitter.

  “There you go!” Fabbiola clenched her hands into fists. “But he says he has no money! Let him sell the watch, I say!”

  Again, Uncle Teo shook his head. “This is not getting us anywhere, Fabbiola. The watch is nothing compared to this property. It's right in the historical center of Florence, and it may be old, but it's in top shape, and it has seven large apartments. Investors would pay a million or two to get it.”

  Benedetta's eyes widened. “Did you get a million from the bank?”

  Uncle Teo swallowed so hard that Carlina saw his Adam's apple move. “More.”

  Deflated, Fabbiola dropped back onto her seat.

  Annalisa lifted her head and twisted out of her mother's hug. “I honestly can't understand how the bank can have been stupid enough to give you a million Euros or more for this house, when they had no idea what you wanted to do with it.”

  “They knew.” Uncle Teo's voice was low.

  Carlina winced. He had always been so self-confident, and now, nothing was left. He could not even look into his own mirror anymore. Damn Valentino.

  “They knew?” Annalisa lifted her shoulders. “How can they have known that you wanted to gamble with it and have given it to you anyway?”

  “They probably hoped it would happen.” Leopold Morin spoke for the first time. His voice was calm, and his face was filled with pity as he looked at his friend, sitting shrunken in his chair.

  “No, no, that's not correct,” Uncle Teo shook his head yet another time. “They did say there was a chance to get the money back - of course we didn't tell them we wanted to triple it - and they believed that Valentino could do it. The bank even made us take out a life-insurance to cover the risk of anything happening to Valentino.”

  Total silence reigned after his last sentence, but it felt as if a current of strong electricity was sweeping through the room.

  Carlina saw Annalisa's eyes lightening up. Her own eyes widened. Oh, no.

  Emma, who had not said a word so far, straightened in her chair and pulled back her shoulders. “Are you telling us that you'll get the million back if Valentino dies?”

  Carlina held her breath. How typical of Emma to bring things to the point.

  Uncle Teo eyed Emma with mistrust. “That is the case, yes, but . . . ”

  “Perfect.” Emma spread her exquisitely manicured hands. “So let's kill him.”

  The family perked up.

  Carlina gasped. I don't believe this.

  “If you kill him, you won't get anything.” Leopold Morin's calm voice cut through the speculative silence. “That's the law.”

  Bravo, Leo. Carlina smiled at him. That's the only way to discuss things in this family - pretend to go along and point out the holes in the plot.

  Uncle Teo cleared his throat. “Actually, the life insurance specifically mentions that the manner of his death would not matter. It seems that life in Dubai has its dangers, and they thought it would be wise to add this as a precaution.”

  “Life in Dubai is nowhere near as dangerous as life in Italy.” Emma smiled like a very happy tiger.

  Lucio looked at her with a puzzled frown. “But, darling, you must be joking. If you kill your cousin, Carlina's Commissario will investigate the whole thing, and we'll all end up in prison.”

  Emma winked at Carlina. “Oh, I doubt that he would investigate us so very closely. After all, he can't very well have relations in prison and continue with his career.”

  Carlina's throat constricted. She knew that Emma often uttered threats she didn't mean, but on the other hand, Emma had a strong streak of self-preservation - some might call it egotism - and for the moment, she could not judge how serious she was. “Stefano would definitely not investigate this case.” She tried to make her voice final, as if she knew it for sure. “He already tried to get out of the last case because our family was involved, and at that time, we hadn't even started to go out together. So don't kid yourselves.”

  Fabbiola bent forward. “He would do it for you, my dear.” She gave her daughter a sunny smile. “A man in love will do anything.”

  Carlina jumped up. “I can't believe I'm having this conversation. First, nobody will kill Valentino. You must be out of your minds to even discuss it!”

  “He deserves it,” Annalisa inspected her nails with a slight frown. “No doubt several families in Dubai would cheer if we did the job for them. He seems to specialize on seducing women as a sideline.”

  Carlina glared at her and decided to ignore that comment. “Second, even if you did kill Valentino, I would under no circumstances at all ask Stefano to do the investigation and to hide incriminating material. Have you all gone crazy? How could I put our relationship under so much strain?”

  Fabbiola turned down the corners of her mouth. “I think you could show a little bit more family loyalty.”

  “Mama! We're talking about murder here! Haven't you ever heard of some of the simple rules that our society is based on? Like the one that you can't kill everyone who happens to be in your way?”

  “My, my, what high roads we're traveling.” Emma lifted a mocking eyebrow. “I believe you've not quite grasped the implications.” Her beautiful mouth hardened. “If we get thrown out of this house, I would have to live with Lucio's mother.”

  Her husband flinched.

  “And you, my dear, would have to move into a tiny apartment together with Fabbiola.” Emma's words were level.

  Carlina closed her eyes in sudden pain. It was true. She had not thought this far. Oh, God. What a nightmare. With an effort, she pulled herself together. “I still don't think we should all sit here and calmly plan Valentino's death.”

  Uncle Teo lifted a trembling han
d. “Carlina is right. If you need to kill anybody, kill me. It was my mistake.”

  “But your life isn't insured,” Emma's voice was even. “So that wouldn't get us anywhere.”

  Carlina blinked. I'll wake up in a minute. I'm having a very bad dream. This is worse than the Mafia.

  “Emma!” Benedetta shook her head. “You're going too far. I understand that you want to kill Valentino, and I think he deserves it,” she glanced at her son, “after all, he also tried to kill Ernesto, and . . . “

  Ernesto lifted both hands. “Mama, please! He did NOT try to kill me. Hundreds of people have survived bungee-jumping!”

  His mother pressed her red lips together. “I will not discuss this anymore. However, isn't there another solution? Can't we borrow the money from somewhere else until Valentino manages to return it?”

  Annalisa snorted. “Valentino is not the kind of guy to return money. Ever.”

  Uncle Teo gave her a worried look.

  “I'm afraid I agree,” Leopold Morin said. “I'd like to offer you something, but I don't have the million you need.” He looked at his folded hands. “Nowhere near, in fact.”

  Uncle Teo smiled at him. “Thank you, Leo, but you're a friend, not family. I would not take money from you.”

  “I would,” Emma said. “But I think that the amount is way too big for us. We'll have to wait for the life insurance to kick in.”

  Suddenly, Carlina felt sick and only wanted to put as much distance as possible between herself and her family. Besides, she wasn't hungry anymore. “I've got to go to work.” She jumped up. “In the meantime, please don't kill anybody. We'll think of a solution somehow.”

  She gave Uncle Teo a peck on his cheek and hurried from the apartment.

  Out on the cobbled street, she took a deep breath. The sun had come out and basked the family house in golden light. Carlina lifted her face to its warmth, hungry for something good and comforting, to take away the chill deep inside her. Her hand was already feeling for her phone, but just before she pressed the button that would speed-dial Garini's number, she hesitated. Every instinct inside her screamed to run to him, to be calmed by his unshakable approach to things, to hear his sensible voice, soothing her, but suddenly, she realized that it might have an odd effect if she called him half-way on the road to being a hysterical wreck, telling him that her family was planning a murder. He had already resigned himself to many of their oddities, but this one might just be a bit too much to swallow - particularly if she threw in the fact that her mother expected him to put the interests of the Mantoni family over his professional ethics. Under no circumstances did she want to corrupt him.