Charmer's Death (Temptation in Florence Book 2)

by boeker, beate

  Garini opened his laptop and wrote an e-mail to Piedro, telling him to find out the whereabouts of Akemi Hateyama and Ileana Marani on December 18. For Piedro's mother, Marcella Cervi, he had to find a different solution. He shuddered as he considered the possible implications. He had to tread with care.

  Chapter 11

  Her honey-colored hair had been swept up into a chignon. Her cheeks were red from the biting wind outside, and her dark eyes looked . . . crazy. Carlina's subconscious noted these facts even before she noted the small gun in the lady's hand.

  Disjointed thoughts zigzagged through her brain. Ricciarda had just left Temptation to buy new window cleaning spray and disinfectant. She would not be back for another twenty minutes. Her phone was inside her handbag, out of reach behind the counter. Stefano was nowhere close.

  “Close the door by key.” The tall lady made a move with her gun. She spoke with a French accent.

  Something hot coursed through Carlina. She knew this lady. She had seen her picture. It was Suzanne, Trevor's lover of last year. The one who had made a scene at the Garibaldi Hotel. Her mouth went dry, and her knees started to feel like mush.

  “Hurry.”

  Carlina cleared her throat. “The key is in my handbag.”

  Suzanne came a step closer. “Get it. I am right beside you. I will watch while you take out the keys, and if you make one false move, I will shoot you. Is that clear?”

  “Perfectly clear.” Carlina's voice came out as a croak. She went behind the counter, moving with deliberation and care to avoid a hasty reaction by Suzanne. Her fingers touched the smooth surface of the cell phone as she felt for her keys, but she didn't dare to press a button.

  Suzanne was right beside her, looking over her shoulder. She smelled of perfume and something else, something that made Carlina's pulse jump up another notch in fear. Suzanne was sweating.

  “Hurry.” Her voice was low and threatening.

  Carlina pulled out the key, went to the door, and locked it. Then she turned around. “Done.”

  “Good.” Suzanne made another move with her gun. “Now we go to the back, where no one can see us.”

  A sickening feeling swept over Carlina. “The storage room is in the back.”

  “Lead the way.”

  If only she would stop waving that gun about. What if it went off? Suzanne seemed a bit too nervous to be in control. Carlina inched past her and swept the curtain aside. The motion detector clicked on several bright spotlights in the ceiling. The familiar smell of dust and new clothes welcomed her. Her sanctuary. Her business. Invaded by a crazy woman. Madonna. She cleared her throat again. “There's not much room in here.”

  “Never mind.” Suzanne closed the curtain behind them without taking her gaze off Carlina. “Now talk.”

  “What?”

  “Talk to me about Trevor. The newspaper says you saw him last.”

  “I didn't.”

  “Don't lie to me.” The gun made an erratic move. “Tell me!”

  Humor her! Carlina forced herself to sound calm. “He came early in the morning, around nine o'clock.”

  Again, the gun waved, and the large eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You're lying. The shop doesn't open until ten.”

  Carlina's cell phone started to ring.

  “Ignore that and answer my question.”

  Carlina pulled herself together with an effort. “We opened early because of a special promotion. He had planned to go running.”

  Something twisted in Suzanna's face. “Go on.”

  “He stopped by and bought a few things.”

  Suzanne bent forward. The mouth of the gun hovered an inch before Carlina's stomach.

  Sweat ran down between Carlina's shoulder blades. She clenched her teeth.

  “Was she with him?”

  “Who?”

  “The current lover.” Hate flamed out of Suzanne's eyes.

  “No.” It came out as a croak.

  “Who is she?”

  “I don't know.” Carlina didn't hesitate but she could feel her face going hot.

  “Don't lie to me!” Suzanne's face contorted. “She killed him. I know that. She will pay for it.”

  “The police are still investigating.” Carlina tried to make her voice firm. “They will find the murderer.”

  “The police are useless.” Suzanne lifted the gun and pressed the nozzle against Carlina's chest.

  Carlina inched back until she could feel the wooden edges of the shelf pressing against her shoulders.

  “I know you are related to her.”

  A drop of sweat rolled down Carlina's brow. “Related to whom?”

  “The current lover.”

  Carlina opened her mouth and closed it again. She was a rotten liar. Distract her! Attack is the best form of defense. “The police are looking for you.” She heard herself say.

  Suzanne froze. “For me?”

  “Yes. They know you made a scene at the Garibaldi Hotel a year ago. You left your address. If I was you, I would get the hell out of here.” She balled her fists. Would Suzanne believe her?

  Suzanne stared at her. “You mean I'm a suspect? They think I killed Trevor?”

  “Yes.” Carlina held her gaze.

  Suzanne collapsed in laughter.

  Carlina stared at her in dismay.

  The gun now pointed at her feet. Suzanne doubled over, her voice rising in hysterical gusts of laughter - or was it sobs?

  Quick like a flash, Carlina folded her hands as if in prayer, raised them and brought them with a thud down on Susanne's hand.

  The gun fell with a crash to the floor and slithered toward the curtain.

  Suzanne shrieked something in French.

  Carlina threw herself with her full length on the floor and grabbed the gun.

  Suzanne landed on top of her.

  The breath rushed out of Carlina's body. It felt as if every bone had been broken by the impact. “Get off!”

  Suzanne grabbed her hair with both hands and pulled at it.

  Carlina gasped in pain, but she didn't let go of the gun. Instead, she tried to twist around, so she could train the pistol onto Suzanne, but now Suzanne grabbed her hands, still pinning her down with her weight. Her long fingernails left marks on Carlina's hands. “Give me the gun!”

  Someone pounded on the glass door of Temptation.

  Suzanne flinched. For the fraction of a second, she loosened her grip.

  Carlina bucked like a horse and pulled the gun underneath her.

  Suzanne slid aside.

  The pounding on the door became louder. “Open up!”

  Carlina twisted aside, ducked away and rose to her knees in one fluid move. Her foot got entangled in the curtain, but she kicked herself free and trained a wobbling hand on Suzanne. The gun glistened in the spotlights. It felt slippery in her sweaty hands, and her breath came out in harsh gusts. “Don't move.”

  Suzanne stared at her, her chest heaving. “It's not loaded.”

  Carlina's throat turned dry. She took a step back until the curtain stretched around her, then slid aside. She was now standing outside the tiny storage area. “Don't move,” she repeated.

  Suzanne jumped to her feet and lurched forward. “Stop me, if you dare.”

  Carlina held the gun in the general direction of Susanne's legs and pulled the trigger, her face distorted by fear.

  A deafening sound filled the little store room. The glass door and all the windows rattled. Dust billowed up, and the lower end of a shelf collapsed.

  Suzanne fell to the floor, clutching her leg. Something red squirted out between her fingers. “You shot me! How dare you!”

  The floor seemed to move below Carlina's feet. She stared at the blood, a pounding in her ears.

  The front door of Temptation burst open.

  Carlina looked over her shoulder.

  Garini, Ricciarda, the waiter from across the street, and Carlina's mother rushed in.

  Carlina's eyes focused on Stefano. “I shot
her,” she said. Little bright shooting stars curved through her vision, and she had the odd feeling that the light was dimming. She felt dizzy.

  Stefano gave her one look, then knelt by the prostrate woman at his feet. He fished out a pair of handcuffs and clicked them on with surprising speed.

  “What do you think you're doing?” Suzanne tried to pull away her hands, but it was too late. “It wasn't me! She shot me!” She clenched her hands and made a move with her head at Carlina. “Don't you see the gun? I'm the victim here! I demand to see a lawyer! Now!”

  “I knew it.” The stars on Fabbiola's wide skirt glistened as she glided toward them, the cushion as always firmly tucked underneath her arm. “The stars were telling me so. A shooting, and danger.” She looked around her, a puzzled frown on her face. “But where are the children?”

  Carlina blinked.

  Fabbiola wiped the children away. “Anyway, I am here, my child. I will protect you.”

  She grabbed the cushion with one hand so it wouldn't fall to the floor, then opened her arms wide as if to enfold Carlina into a bear's hug, but somehow, Garini managed to come between them. “Let me take that gun first.” He held out his hand.

  Carlina handed it over, feeling too stunned to say anything.

  His light eyes scanned her face. “That's a new shade of green,” he said.

  Carlina managed a wobbly smile. “Do you like it?”

  “I prefer the other one.” His voice was ironic.

  She wasn't fooled. She had seen the concern deep below the surface. The ground beneath her stopped shaking. “Will you arrest me?”

  “Arrest you?” Fabbiola's voice filled the little store with indignation. “Have you gone out of your mind? He has to deal with me first! No one is going to arrest my child while I am beside her. No one, I say!” She placed her hands akimbo on her hips and pushed a belligerent face toward Garini.

  “As it happens, I don't plan to arrest anyone just now, Mrs. Mantoni-Ashley.” Garini took out his cell phone and punched in a quick number. “I'll call the doctor for this lady first, and then we'll document what happened.”

  “If you don't wish to arrest me, then take off the manacles!” Suzanne gave him a dark look. “You have no right to withhold me. No right at all.”

  He gave her a reassuring nod, turned his back on her, and started to talk into his phone.

  Ricciarda stood on the edge of the scene, her face white. “Are you all right, Carlina?”

  “Yes.” Carlina swallowed. “How did you manage to find help so quickly?”

  Ricciarda took a deep breath. “When I came back and found the door closed, I knew something odd was going on. Then I saw the curtain of the storeroom move. I . . . I don't know why, but it scared me.” She took a deep breath. “I ran to get Enrique's advice, and we called the police. Signor Garini came only two minutes later.” She sounded impressed.

  “And I,” Fabbiola drew herself up and squeezed the cushion she held between her hands. “I knew you were in danger. The cards told me, and I knew I had to come.”

  “Thank you, Mama.” Carlina also smiled at Ricciarda and Enrique. “Thank you very much for acting without hesitating. How did you manage to get through the door?”

  “The Commissario did it. He had a special tool.”

  “I can't believe you're talking about doors,” Suzanne still held her leg though it had stopped bleeding. “I am the one who got shot here, but you put ME in manacles and discuss doors. You're not normal.”

  Carlina looked at her. The crazy gaze had gone. A petulant woman was left, a woman of great beauty but ravaged by emotions. “Why did you come?” she asked.

  “I wanted to know about Trevor.” She started to sob. “I can't believe he's dead. He was so full of life.”

  Carlina's face softened. She took out a tissue and passed it to Suzanne.

  Garini turned around and assessed the situation with one glance. “The doctor will be here in a few minutes.” He took out a tape recorder. “I'd like to tape your statement.”

  Suzanne shook her head. “I won't say anything. I want a lawyer.”

  Garini didn't hesitate. “I'll arrange one for you.” He made a short call, then turned to Carlina. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  She nodded and glanced at the tape recorder. It blinked with a red light, showing it was running. “My name is Caroline Arabella Ashley,” she said.

  “I know your name.” His face was impassive. “You can skip that part.”

  The way he said it warmed something inside her. An almost forgotten verse from the bible popped into her mind. “I know your name; you are mine.” When had she last heard that? At her first communion? Carlina smiled and focused on her story with an effort. “This morning, Ricciarda went out to buy some cleaning stuff. As soon as she had left, Suzanne came in.”

  “When was that?”

  Carlina shook her head. “I really can't recall. Quite soon after we had opened.”

  Ricciarda cut in. “It was a quarter past ten.”

  Carlina nodded. “Suzanne threatened me with the gun. She forced me to close the door of Temptation. Then she made me go into the storeroom.”

  Her mother hissed in her breath.

  Stefano's face remained impassive. “Go on.”

  “She thought I had been the last to see Trevor alive. She wanted to hear all about it. Then she asked me about Trevor's last lover. She wanted to find her and take her revenge on her because she was convinced that she had killed Trevor.”

  “Annalisa?” Fabbiola took a step forward. “How dare she insinuate that my dear niece would so such a thing?”

  Carlina winced.

  “I knew you lied to me.” Suzanne fixed Carlina with a dark stare. “You slimy, little--”

  “That's enough,” Garini cut in. “Please continue, Carlina.”

  “I . . . I wanted to distract her, so I told her that the police were looking for her already and suspected her of being the murderer. I told her to run.”

  Enrique whistled. “Quick thinking.”

  “You took an appalling risk.” Stefano's voice was grim.

  “I don't understand.” Fabbiola looked at her daughter. “How come you know her? She's French, isn't she?” It sounded as if no self-respecting Italian would ever know a French citizen.

  “It may have been a risk, but it worked.” Carlina looked at Garini. “She doubled over laughing.”

  “Laughing?” Fabbiola echoed in disbelief.

  “Laughing.” Ricciarda stared at Suzanne as if she she had grown another arm.

  “That's when I jumped at her to get the gun.”

  Garini closed his eyes for an instant.

  “Wow.” Enrique clapped his hands. “I'm impressed.”

  “There was a . . . a struggle.” Carlina looked at the marks on her hand. “But I managed to get the gun in the end. That's when she said it wasn't loaded. She came toward me, to get it, and that's when I . . . when I shot her.” She bit her lips. “It was self-defense.”

  Garini looked at her with an expression she had never seen before.

  “It's all lies!” Suzanne said with a hiss. “I was in her store to buy a new bra. And suddenly, she starts to scream at me. She locks the door, and I'm so scared, I take out my gun, and then she fights me for it, and attacks me. I'm going to sue her!”

  “You!” Fabbiola planted her feet wide apart, an inch from Suzanne's hip on the floor, and hitched the cushion underneath her arm higher. “Don't you dare to repeat this filth ever again. My daughter would never attack anybody. Never!”

  Garini switched off the tape recorder. “Not unless she feels it's necessary,” he said so low only Carlina could hear.

  “You can check my police records,” Suzanne said. “There is nothing against me. Nothing at all. You will find that I, Suzanne Morin, have led a blameless life.”

  Garini whipped around and stared at her. “What did you say your name was?”

  Suzanne drew herself up. “I'm Suzanne Morin. If you
took off these absolutely unnecessary manacles, I could show you my . . . “ she hesitated and added in French, “. . . my carte d'identité.”

  At this instant, a thin man with a black bag hurried through the door. He looked around, nodded at Garini, and dropped to his knees beside Suzanne.

  “Who is this man?” Fabbiola's voice quivered with outrage.

  “The doctor.” Garini didn't take his eyes of Carlina.

  “Why is he treating a criminal who tried to kill my daughter? I have no patience with such luxury.” She gave a sniff full of contempt. “It is only a scratch anyway.”

  Garini's lips twisted. “Dottore?” he asked. “What do you say?”

  “The lady is right.” The doctor was already busy binding up the wound. “The bullet only grazed her leg. It'll soon be a distant memory.”

  Carlina felt a wave of relief, coupled with fatigue, sweeping over her. She swayed and grabbed the cash register to steady herself.

  Suzanne folded her arms in front of her chest. “A scratch! It's not a scratch! She marked me for life!” She pointed at Carlina. “This woman tried to kill me, and you all pretend it was me! You're all in cahoots with each other! It's the Mafia. This is only a farce.” Her voice got louder every second. “I need an attorney. A French attorney! I insist!”

  Piedro burst through the door, his gelled hair standing up in spikes. “Here I am, Commissario,” he informed his boss with a grand air, as if they had been waiting for him for ages. His gaze fell onto the attractive woman on the floor, and his eyes widened. “Golly.”

  Garini nodded at his subordinate, then addressed Suzanne. “This is my assistant Piedro Cervi. A police car is waiting for you outside, to take you to the police station, where you can wait for the attorney of your choice. You can then prepare your line of defense with him. My assistant Piedro Cervi will then take your statement, and I'll join you later.”

  Piedro visibly grew. He squared his shoulders and helped Suzanne up from the floor. Together with Garini, he escorted her to the waiting police car.

  His departure broke up the group that had watched everything as if in trance.