Delayed Death (Temptation in Florence Book 1)

by boeker, beate

  "Sure." Elena gave her a smile that was a curious mix of bravery and curiosity.

  Wrong answer, girl. Carlina forced a smile and followed Garini out of the store. She felt as if she was being led straight to execution. Better me than Mama. I have to talk to her.

  "Put on your helmet," he said. "I will take you up on my motorbike."

  Carlina went to her Vespa and unlocked her helmet, then locked the Vespa again.

  He lifted his eyebrows when he saw the helmet. "Does everything in your life have to be with a leopard print?"

  "That's none of your business."

  He didn't reply, instead, he led her to his black motorbike on the sidewalk.

  "This is a no-parking-zone." Carlina said.

  He mounted his bike and started the motor. "Get up behind me and hold on tight." It sounded as if he spoke through clenched teeth.

  After her slim Vespa, his motorbike felt like a sofa. Carlina ducked behind his back and resisted the temptation to lean her head against him. He drove fast, and she was obliged to hold on tighter than she wanted. It felt too close, too intimate. I should have insisted on a taxi.

  Five minutes later, a narrow alley with several-storied houses on both sides multiplied the noise of the motor. Garini slowed down, took a sharp corner to the left, and stopped in a parking area filled with four black motorbikes and one police car. Carlina saw the black bars in the back of the car and averted her eyes. I hope he didn't lie to me. What if he wants to arrest me? What will become of Temptation?

  He dismounted and waited until she stood next to him, then he held out his hand. "Your helmet."

  Without a word, she handed him her helmet, and he placed it in the storage container on his bike. When he had locked it, he led the way to the back entrance of the police station.

  They arrived in a cheerless room that smelled of dust and fear. Garini closed the metallic door behind them and locked it with a key.

  The sound made her stomach lurch. Did he think she was going to run away? She pulled back her shoulders and looked around her. Three old metal chairs and one wooden table constituted all the furniture. The windows had bars in front of them. A sick shade of light-green paint covered the dingy walls.

  "Sit down."

  Carlina sat. A shudder of fear went through her stomach.

  He chose a seat at the other side of the table and looked at her with his light eyes as if he wanted to x-ray her soul.

  Carlina set her teeth and met his gaze without flinching. She could feel cold sweat trickling down between her shoulder blades.

  He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded it. "This letter informs you about your rights. Please read and sign it." He pushed it across the table.

  Carlina took it and tried to make sense of the words. She had trouble focusing her fear-frozen thoughts on the things she read, but after having read it three times, the bare facts registered. It said that anything she said could be used against her in court and that she had the right to get an attorney before she was questioned. "I don't know any attorney."

  "We can arrange one for you, but you can also decide to talk without one present."

  She looked at him. He had never seemed so fierce. I need to get out of here. "Start with your questions." She flung her words on the table like a challenge. "If I find them too difficult, I'll stop answering them."

  "You have to sign first."

  She held out her hand. "Give me a pen." No need to be polite with this guy.

  He fished a black ballpoint pen from his shirt pocket and pushed it toward her.

  The pen felt warm from his body. I wish he liked me. Carlina's mouth went dry. Where has this crazy thought come from? Without a word, she signed the document. Then she lifted her head. "Now start."

  He took out the recording machine. "Do you agree to my recording this conversation?"

  One day, I'm going to stuff the stupid recorder down his throat. "Yes." Carlina glared at him. "Are we done with the preliminaries or do we have to agree on a million other things?"

  "We're done."

  "Then start." She pressed the words through clenched teeth.

  His face remained set like a mask. "Please tell me about the assistant who works at your store."

  "Her name is Elena Certini." Carlina placed a hand onto the table. It felt gritty with dirt. She grimaced and dropped both hands into her lap.

  "How long has she been working for you?"

  "Six months."

  "Did you know each other before she started at your store?"

  It felt like a tennis match where she had to run to catch each ball. "I had seen her a few times before. Our mothers are friends."

  "Of course."

  He said it so low, she wasn't sure if she had imagined the ironic answer.

  "But we get along very well." Carlina felt she had to defend her choice of assistant.

  "Since when have you known the mother?"

  Carlina shrugged. "I've known her for years, but not very well. As I said, she's a friend of my mother's."

  "Are you in the habit of visiting her?"

  Damn. Here it came. "I . . . no." Carlina's hands started to shake and she pressed them together in her lap.

  "Why did you visit her last week?"

  "Because she's ill with cancer." His mother died of cancer. Does he think of her now? "Elena told me her mother was bored," she added.

  "And so you decided to visit her?" He made it sound as if it was a vicious act.

  "I decided to visit her because Elena asked me to do so." Even if you don't believe it, Mister Policeman. "Elena had told her mother about Temptation and--"

  "About what?"

  "About my store."

  "Go on."

  Carlina took a deep breath. "She also told her mother a lot about her work and me, and so she had the idea that her mother would be diverted from her illness if I came one evening for an aperitif."

  "And so you went."

  "Yes, I did." Carlina lifted her chin. Anything wrong with that, Garini?

  "Where does Signora Certini keep her medicine?"

  Carlina clenched her teeth. If only I could say I have no idea. "I think she keeps it on the side table next to her bed."

  "You think so?"

  "Yes."

  "Why?" The word shot out like a bullet.

  It hurt. Yesterday, when I told him my story, he was so different. Maybe it's part of the interrogation tactics. Put the suspect on an emotional roller coaster. Carlina bit her lips.

  "Signorina Ashley? Have you heard my question?"

  "Yes." Carlina gave him a dark look. "I saw Elena take a tablet from that side table. She gave it to her mother."

  "Did you see what it was?"

  "No."

  "No?" His voice sounded ironic.

  "No!" Damn you.

  He contemplated her for a moment, as if she was a snail on a piece of lettuce. "You are aware that you are the prime suspect for the murder of your grandfather, aren't you?"

  "What?" Carlina jumped up. "I haven't killed my grandfather!"

  "Sit down, Signorina Ashley." He sounded bored.

  Carlina clenched her trembling hands and sat down. I should have called an attorney. "Why?" She bent forward. "Why do you think I killed him?"

  The Commissario lifted his right hand and started to count on his fingers. "Means. You had access to morphine a day before the murder. You also had free access to your grandfather's apartment at any time you chose." His light eyes never wavered from her face. "Motive. Your grandfather harassed you with stories about your past and insinuated that you were not a legitimate child of your father, whom you adored."

  "How do you know I adored him?" Carlina felt sick.

  "I have eyes in my head, Signorina Ashley." His voice was hard as granite. "Place. You were the first at the scene of the crime and managed to disturb it."

  "But--"

  He interrupted her. "General behavior. You lied to us about the time of death. You did everything yo
u could to make an inexperienced doctor sign the death certificate and stop the investigation."

  Carlina tried to swallow, but her throat was too tight. "I told you why."

  "I have noted your reasons." The Commissario inclined his head.

  He doesn't believe a word I said.

  The Commissario lifted his hand again and counted another point. "Corruption of witnesses. You tried to convince your assistant to keep your access to morphine a secret."

  "Only until I could have talked to you!" and Mama.

  His eyebrow twitched in that ironic manner she had come to hate. "Indeed?"

  Carlina felt tears springing into her eyes. I won't cry in front of this monster. She averted her face and concentrated on her clenched hands. "Are you going to arrest me now?"

  "No."

  "Why not?"

  He was silent.

  She lifted her head. "Are you going to play cat and mouse with me?"

  His face was inscrutable. "No."

  Hot rage filled her. "Just what are you trying to tell me, Commissario?"

  He bent forward. "Has it occurred to you that quite a few of the points I mentioned are also valid for the rest of your family?"

  Carlina caught her breath. "My mother didn't do it!"

  He narrowed his eyes. "Why did you think of your mother?"

  She could feel hot blood mounting to her face. Oh, God. "I won't say another word!"

  He cocked his head to the side. "What about your cousin Emma? She maneuvered you into a pretty tight spot, didn't she?"

  "It wasn't Emma!"

  "No? Did she love your grandfather so much?" His voice sounded too soft.

  Damn him, damn him, damn him. Carlina clenched her teeth. Don't reply, Carlina.

  He leaned back and tapped his fingers on the table. "Tell me one more thing, Signorina Ashley."

  She gave him her darkest look and waited.

  "Why did you like your grandfather?"

  "What?" Her mouth dropped open.

  "Why did you like him?" He bent forward. "From what I've heard, he delighted in making everybody's life difficult."

  "Then you got the wrong information." Carlina crossed her arms in front of her chest. "He wasn't like that."

  "No?" The Commissario lifted his eyebrows. "Is it a charming habit to drag everybody's black memories from the past into discussion when the whole family is around?"

  Carlina shook her head. "That was just the last phase."

  "How about the other phases?"

  She smiled a bit. "It wasn't always easy to live with him, but at least it was never boring."

  "Hmm." His light eyes assessed her. "Did you admire him?"

  Carlina lifted her chin. "Yes, I did. He was a man with passion. Whatever he did, he did one hundred percent."

  He narrowed his eyes. "It's called a fanatic."

  Carlina shrugged. "So what? He dared to stand out from the crowd. He didn't do what people expected him to do. He did whatever he thought was right."

  "A rebel?"

  Again she shrugged. "Maybe. A man with courage for sure. A man who was able to laugh about his mistakes. A man who told you what he thought even if you didn't like it." A man like you. The thought came out of nowhere. Carlina jumped and shut her mouth with a snap.

  The Commissario looked at her, thoughtful. Then he said. "I wonder why nobody threw Nicolò's own past into his face."

  Carlina sighed. "I did, once. When he told me I would never marry, I said at least nobody could ever say of me that I had flattened the family dog into a pancake."

  Garini blinked. "Had he done that?"

  Carlina smiled. "He claimed it was a mistake. You see, we were at a garden party in Fiesole, in the villa where Angela and Marco now live, and Grandpa started to rock on the old swing they had for the kids. He was never very sportive, but that day, he wanted to impress us, so he jumped from the swing." She giggled. "Unfortunately, Alberta's old dachshund chose just that moment to waddle past the swing, and Grandpa landed on top of the dog."

  "No."

  Carlina grinned. "Yes. Alberta threatened to kill him and--" She froze. "She didn't mean it, of course."

  "Of course." His voice didn't betray the slightest feeling.

  "The dog survived and lived a healthy, happy life for ages." Carlina snapped. "It happened eight years ago, maybe more. It's an old, old story, and completely unimportant."

  He looked at her in a way that made her feel he saw every dark corner of her mind. "Who was the closest to your grandfather?"

  Carlina put her head to one side as she considered. "Me, I guess. I often dropped in when I came home from Temptation, and we had a cup of tea together."

  "And a bit of cat food."

  "No, a peppermint drop." Then she caught herself. "Is being close to him another proof that I killed him?"

  He didn't twitch a muscle. "Ninety-eight percent of all murders are done within the closest family circles."

  "That's what I thought you would say." Her voice sounded bitter.

  He smiled.

  Carlina blinked. "How can you smile now?"

  "Shouldn't I?" The smile still sat in one corner of his mouth.

  "No."

  He lifted his eyebrows. "Why not?"

  "It's not in character."

  The smile fled. "I see."

  In front of the locked door, somebody passed with heavy steps.

  Then silence, so thick, it made breathing difficult.

  "Who killed your grandfather?" His blank face was back in place.

  Carlina shook her head. "I have no idea."

  "Come on," he said. "Think. You know your family best. You know it's not right to kill a man. You say you loved your grandfather. He did not deserve to be silenced like that. Think.” He bent forward. “Who could have done it? Don't tell me everybody loved him to bits."

  Carlina swallowed. "Of course not. I'm not saying they're all angels." A fleeting smile. "They aren't." She looked up. "But murder? I can't picture any of them doing it." Her mouth twisted. "At night, when I can't sleep, I think about it. All the time. But it's impossible. I keep hoping that maybe it was a mistake altogether."

  "Your grandfather wasn't on medication. He can't have taken it by mistake."

  "I know."

  “Once again, Signorina Ashley, think. Who could have done it? You must be able to come up with something.”

  Carlina swallowed. Images swirled through her head. Emma's face, contorted with fury. Her mother, refusing to go into details about her past. Uncle Teo, inscrutable. She pushed them all away. “I can't!” Her voice was flat. “I have no idea who killed him.”

  He nodded with a slow movement, as if he was thinking about her answer. Then he got up. "Thank you."

  "It was a pleasure." Her voice dripped with irony.

  He smiled again, a knowing smile, a smile that told her he had caught the irony and found it amusing.

  What a strange man.

  He pulled a card from his shirt pocket and held it out to her. "If you ever think of something else, something that might help us, call me, no matter what time."

  She took it and stuffed it into her handbag. "Right. You don't need to take me back. I'll walk."

  He nodded and held the door open for her. "All right."

  His quick agreement irked her. Carlina gave him a nod and walked past him. I hope he saw it was a regal nod. Her knees felt like jelly. What on earth will happen next?

  Chapter 10

  I

  Stefano watched her walk down the corridor and suppressed a sigh.

  Her curls were ruffled, her back straight and unforgiving. She left the building without a backward glance.

  She's angry at me. No wonder.

  "Signor Garini?" The voice of his boss startled him.

  Stefano looked over his shoulder. "Yes?"

  Signor Cervi poked his head out of the office at the end of the corridor. "Would you come to my office for a minute?"

  Now what does he want? "Sure."<
br />
  His boss held the door open for him and closed it as soon as he was inside. He indicated one of the leather chairs around the mahogany meeting table. "Sit down."

  "Thank you." The office smelled of flowers. A vase with yellow roses sat in the center of the table.

  "Wasn't that one of the Mantoni girls?"

  "Yes."

  His boss lifted his eyebrows. "You're about to arrest someone?"

  Stefano shook his head. "No. I just wanted to scare her."

  Cervi leaned back and linked his hands in front of his stomach. "Did it work?"

  "Not at all."

  Cervi nodded in thought. "How is the case proceeding?"

  Stefano's mouth twisted. "Do you want the long or the short version?"

  His boss glanced at his watch. "The short."

  Stefano thought a moment, then he said, "I have a thousand leads, and one is stronger than all the others."

  "But that's good."

  Stefano shook his head. "I have a feeling it's all wrong. The facts speak against her, but--" He broke off.

  "But?"

  "My instinct tells me she hasn't done it."

  Cervi looked at him from underneath his eyebrows. "Instinct is not to be underestimated. Tell me about the things that speak for her."

  Her eyes. Stefano swallowed. "The whole family has an agenda."

  Cervi shrugged. "Suspects usually do."

  Stefano shook his head. "She doesn't. Oh, she lied to me and all, but she's the only one who was really fond of the victim. She's also fond of all the other family members, so much so that she refuses to throw a bad light on them."

  Cervi moved in his chair so the black leather made a squeaking sound. "Have you tried to make her speak?"

  "That's why I asked her to come here." Stefano sighed. "I scared her so much, she expected to be arrested immediately." It made me feel like shit. He remembered the way she had swallowed her tears. For one crazy instant, he had wanted to pull her into his arms. Get a grip on yourself, Stefano!

  "I hope you didn't exaggerate."

  "No." I had to force myself to say every sentence. "When I had her where I wanted her, I invited her to tell me who else could be a suspect."

  Cervi bent forward with another squeak of the leather chair. "And?"

  "Nothing." Stefano's voice sounded bitter. "The rest of the family was so creative when it came to pointing out motives for murder that I hardly know where to start. But she didn't say a word."