by Beate Boeker
Slowly, he shook his head again. The more he understood the setting, the more his conviction grew that this was no place for murder – unless the murderer had been set on putting a rope around his neck right away. The only alternative was that it could have been done on the spur of the moment without considering the consequences.
In that case, the weather had been of immense help. Once again, he looked up at the shadowy figures he could see on the hill above him. Several die hard tourists were lined up against the parapet of the Piazzale, probably trying to film the virtually non-visible skyline of Florence. He could just make out a blurry figure in a light coat surrounded by several darker shades, but he was willing to bet his life that they were busy capturing every moment of the foggy soup that Florence presented today. For one instant, he wondered if he should shout and wave at them. Would they see him with the help of the cameras? He could probably dance the boogie-woogie right now and nobody would notice.
He took a quick look around, then went to the corner the furthest away from the tourists – which also happened to be the one where he had found the little stone – and started to wave both arms like a windmill. No reaction from the tourists. He jumped up and down and ran all the length around the tower as if haunted by a demon. No reaction. Some of the hazy figures went away, a new batch arrived. Nobody shouted or waved back or pointed at him. So that was that.
Garini sighed and returned downstairs where he found Piedro deep in conversation with Sofia. When he approached, he heard Piedro saying, “Of course we're trained to use all sorts of guns to protect the citizens and--”
Garini suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. “Piedro, can I talk to you a minute?”
“Of course.” Piedro followed him a few steps out of hearing range.
“I have to talk to the team below, but I want you to stay up here and make sure that nobody accesses the tower until I can send the forensic team to check for traces.”
Piedro grinned, obviously envisioning a prolonged flirt with Sofia. “All right.”
“And tell the girl that she doesn't have to stay. She can go home, if she wants.”
Piedro looked chagrined. “But she'll have to lock the tower when we're done.”
“Ask her to give you the key. We'll return it to her as soon as the tower can be declared open again.”
Garini left Piedro to his fond farewells and returned to the paved area in front of the tower. As he approached the scene, the grizzled police surgeon straightened, took off his plastic gloves, and went to meet him halfway. “Nasty business, this.” He shook his head. “Nothing much left to analyze. But I've got two things you'll find interesting: First, I found her identity card. The victim's name is Olga Ottima. Second, a knitting needle is stuck deep inside her chest.”
Chapter 7
I
Garini stared at the police surgeon, immobile as a statue. The theory of suicide evaporated into insubstantial drifts of mist and was replaced by the image of Carlina as she had paced the apartment yesterday, her face contorted with loathing. It flew through his mind, quickly followed by a memory of Fabbiola's hands knitting an endless scarf at high speed. With an effort, he cleared his throat. “A knitting needle?”
“Yes. Do you want it?”
Garini nodded. “Later, but let's first get her to the pathologist for further examination.”
“You'll have to wait for the results,” the dottore said. “Roberto is at a special training course at the moment, and his assistant is sick. But I can phone later to confirm her identity. We were able to take her fingerprints.”
“All right, thank you.” Garini waved him away, his mind grappling with the information he had just received. He had to get off this case. Immediately. He pulled out his phone and called his boss, Cervi, and for once, he got through to him without delay. “Signor Cervi, I'm afraid I have to pull out of the case we got today. We just determined the victim's name, and she's in close connection to the Mantoni family. As you know, I'm going out with Caroline Mantoni-Ashley, so I won't be able to be unbiased.” Garini paused and waited for the inevitable outburst. For an instant, he only heard heavy breathing.
Then Cervi cleared his throat. “You're kidding me. How do the Mantonis always manage to get mixed up in murder?”
“I can't answer that. But I think you'll agree that I can't possibly lead this investigation.”
Cervi snorted. “Fine words, Garini. Who the hell do you think should do the job? You know that Sergio and Paolo both called in sick today and won't return for the rest of the week. That damn flu has reduced our work force by half, and there's no saying when they'll be back. I think I also have a slightly elevated temperature, but I won't desert my post. No, I won't. I know my duty.”
Garini rolled his eyes. “Still, we have other colleagues we could put in charge.”
“They're not experienced enough.”
Garini hated to admit it, but Cervi was right. “Maybe we can call in someone from--” he hesitated. If he said Pisa, Cervi would throw a fit. He had an ongoing feud with the head of the police force in Pisa. “. . . from Milano.”
“Milano! Next you'll want to call in Rome. This is not going to be a national case, I take it?”
“I don't think so.” Garini had difficulty to keep his voice neutral. “But we don't want anybody to feel that this case is handled unprofessionally.”
“Of course not! Are you trying to tell me that you're going to be unprofessional?”
“I'm trying to tell you that I'm biased,” Garini's voice was cold. “And this is why I'm unable to lead this murder investigation. There has to be someone else!”
“There's no need to snap at me like that.” Cervi breathed heavily into the phone. “Just let me think a bit.” The heavy breathing continued.
Garini clamped his mouth shut to prevent himself from saying something inappropriate.
Cervi suddenly came alive again. “I've got it! A brilliant idea.” His voice dripped with satisfaction. “I'll take Piedro away from you.”
“What?” Garini thought he'd misunderstood. “How is working without an assistant going to solve our problem?”
“Of course he will still work with you, Garini! Please don't pretend to the stupid! The difference is that he won't report to you anymore. Instead, he'll report to me. And he'll get strict instructions to pass every little detail on to me, daily, without you being present.”
Garini gulped. Had he heard correctly? His subordinate Piedro was going to be his personal spy?
“And I'm officially ordering you to involve Piedro in every interview and every crucial development and not to leave him out of anything. In fact, it's quite providential that he's my son. Nobody will doubt his loyalty.” Cervi was triumphant. “How does that sound?”
Terrible. “I'm not sure if it will serve the purpose. After all, this background information is not known to anybody. All the public can see is that I'm personally linked to the family and am investigating the case at the same time.”
Cervi swept on as if he had not heard him. “I'll put this in writing immediately and will save it on the file, so we'll have it documented in case of questions. You'd better give me some background information now. Why are the Mantonis involved in this murder?”
“They had a dispute with the woman who was just found dead at the foot of the San Niccolò Tower. She fell to her death. There were bad feelings between her and the rest of the family and particularly my future mother-in-law.”
“Damn. That's bad publicity for the city.”
Garini rolled his eyes. That was the least of his problems.
“Now wait a minute. Did you just mention a future mother-in-law?”
“I did.” A flicker of hope raised its head. Would Cervi relent after all?
“When did you get engaged?”
“I didn't.”
“So there's no discussion at all about a future mother-in-law.” Cervi sounded triumphant.
Garini pressed his lips together. “I'm living
with her daughter.”
“You're sharing an apartment?”
“That's what I said.”
“That can't be helped.” Cervi didn't sound as if the knowledge bothered him. “You take the case, Garini. I know you've got it in you to do what's right, no matter what it takes.”
Garini winced at the superficial words, knowing that Cervi only slid compliments into the conversation if he could use them strategically, but he wasn't willing to give up yet. He played his trump card. “You might know the victim. Her name is Olga Ottima. She's--”
“Olga Ottima!” Cervi interrupted him. “Good grief! The one who works for the Finanza?”
“The one.”
“You'd better clear this up quickly, Garini. The case is going to create trouble in high places. Of course it's not all right to let you investigate the case. But with the shortage of people I have, that's the best I can do. And if there should be an outcry, why, then I will plead my case and maybe they'll finally admit that I need more people in my department. Yes, maybe this is the leverage I need. Looking at it from this angle, it's quite providential, this Mantoni case of yours. I will once again ask for help, knowing that they will refuse, and if there's a scandal in the end, I can point out that it was not in my power to prevent the situation at all.”
“But--”
Cervi interrupted him before Garini could say more than one word. “I think I'd better tell Piedro about his new responsibilities personally. Pass him on to me.”
Garini shrugged and gave up. He extracted Piedro from his flirt, pressed the phone into his hand, then went some steps away to collect his thoughts. For the time being, he had no choice but to continue with the investigation. If he were lucky, his colleagues would soon recover from the flu, so that he could hand over the case. Until then, he had to do the best he could while enduring Piedro who was no doubt going to swell with his new importance.
With difficulty, Garini pushed the thoughts away and forced himself to focus on the case. What were his next steps? He had to inform Carlina. And Uncle Teo. And Olga's son, Ugo. But first things first. The professore was still waiting at the trattoria.
He waited until Piedro had joined him with a slightly stunned expression on his face and a sidelong look that told Garini the immediate future would not be easy. Garini suppressed a sigh and led the way to the old man sitting at a table inside the trattoria. After a brief presentation, he said, “Please give me an exact account of what happened, Professor Alossi. Do you agree that my assistant records this conversation?”
The professore pressed his thin lips together, then nodded. “Yes, of course. I know my duty. However, there's nothing much to tell. I walked past the tower, on my way home. I had been to see my tailor. He's measuring a new suit for me, for my daughter's wedding.” He cocked his head to one side and looked at Garini. “It's her third wedding. If she marries once more, I'll take an old suit. Quite an expensive habit, getting married time and again.”
Garini suppressed a smile and nodded, encouraging him to go on.
“It must have been a quarter to five when I reached the tower. Suddenly, I heard someone scream.”
“A scream? Where did it come from?”
The old man shrugged. “I couldn't tell.”
“Could you tell if it came from a man or a woman?”
“I don't know.” The weak eyes gazed at him, then he shook his head. “If you ask me now, in hindsight, I'd say it was a woman's scream. She screamed as she fell. But at the time, I had no idea. It sounded like a banshee. I stopped and looked around. I heard a whooshing sound, right in front of me. And then she landed at my feet.” He winced. “It was dreadful.”
“You could see it was a woman?”
The professore hesitated. “No. Not really. I . . . I didn't look closely. But I saw the purple raincoat, and I didn't think that any man would wear such a garment.”
“What happened next?”
“I jumped back. It was-- pretty ugly. I saw that nothing would save her, so I turned around, got my phone from my pocket, and called the police.”
“Did you look up at any moment, toward the tower?”
“No.”
“Did you notice people around, someone who hesitated, maybe, before walking on? Or someone who ran away? Someone who came from the tower and slipped through the crowd?”
Professor Alossi frowned until his whole face looked like a wrinkled plum. “I was too shocked to notice anything. Most people stopped to gape, but one young woman hurried away. She had two young boys with her. I guess she didn't want them to see such a terrible sight.”
“I understand that. So nothing suspicious?”
“Nothing, I'm afraid.”
“Thank you very much, Professore.” Garini got up. “Your report helped us a lot. Here's my card in case you remember anything else.”
When they left the trattoria, Garini asked Piedro to take the short walk over to the Mantoni house on the other side of the Arno River and said he would join him there.
Piedro pulled a face. “Why aren't we taking the car? And where are you going?”
Garini gave him a hard look. It hadn't taken Piedro long to adapt to his new position. “I'm driving to Temptation to inform Carlina Ashley about the murder,” he said deliberately. “You go ahead to the Mantoni house on Via delle Pinzochere. I'll join you in a short time. Wait for me before you do anything.”
“But--”
Garini paid no attention to Piedro's protest, turned on his heels, and went to the car. He was not going to give a damn about Cervi's new rules. He had to see Carlina privately before presenting the assembled family with the facts. If it made Cervi angry enough to take him off the case, why, so much the better.
II
Carlina tried to concentrate on analyzing her sales while waiting for customers at Temptation. The day had been quiet – too quiet – and her thoughts had not lightened even though the weather had improved slightly. The problem of Olga Ottima depressed her as she couldn't see a solution, no matter from which angle she approached it. With an effort, she turned back to her files. She had recently bought new software that helped her to pinpoint her best sellers, and she wanted to see how she had fared the last quarter. But just as she had managed to immerse herself in the figures, Garini burst through the door, his face dark.
Carlina's heart constricted. “Stefano. What happened?”
He took her arm and led her to the small storage area in the back, where she had two folding chairs hung on the wall. He yanked one down, plunked it on the floor, and said, “Sit down.” His voice was terse.
Carlina hung back. “Tell me first. What happened?”
He shook his head. “Sit down. I know your tendency to faint when you get bad news.”
Carlina's knees started to tremble, and she dropped onto the stool. “I'm sitting. Now tell me immediately, or I'll start to scream.”
Garini took the other folding chair from the wall and sat, then he bent forward and put a steadying hand on Carlina's shoulder. “Olga is dead.”
Carlina stared at him, her eyes wide. Contradictory emotions rushed through her. Elation that the problem was gone. Fear that someone from the family had killed her. “Are you sure?”
“She most definitely is dead.”
Her tongue darted out to moisten her suddenly dry lips. “Who did it?”
He closed his eyes. “Please tell me you didn't ask that.”
“Why?” She stared at him. “What else should I have asked?”
“I could think of any number of questions. Like 'How did she die'?”
“Oh.” Carlina swallowed. “You mean it might have been a lucky accident?”
He grimaced. “We'd better stop this. She fell from the San Niccolò Tower.”
Her breath came out in a big whoosh of relief. “So it was an accident? Super.”
“I give up.” He straightened. “I'm going to your family now, to break the news.”
She jumped up. “I'm coming with you.”
>
He eyed her. “I didn't expect anything less. But I'm warning you: It won't be pleasant.”
Carlina grinned. “I'm not so sure. They'll be very relieved.” Already halfway out of the door, she froze and turned around in slow motion. “Wait a minute. Why are you dealing with it? Are you telling me it's murder after all?”
“It looks like it.”
Their gazes locked.
Carlina felt as if a weight had dropped onto her chest. “You mean we're suspects? Again?”
“I'm afraid so.”
She bit her lower lip while images tumbled through her mind - Uncle Teo dancing with Olga, so happy - the family, incandescent with rage during dinner – Aunt Violetta, her gnarled finger stretched out, pointing at Olga during the birthday party . . . they were all suspects now. And if she was being honest with herself, then she wouldn't put it past any member of her family to have given Olga that shove. Damn. She swallowed hard and looked at Garini. “I was at Temptation all day long. But I can't prove that. It was a quiet day, and I hardly had any customers at all.”
He gave her a crooked smile. “I'll note that. Thanks.”
“Stefano?” Her voice was small.
“Yes?”
“Will this come between us?”
He took a deep breath, his face set. “Yes, it will. You're loyal to your family. I have a job to do.”
“Why can't you give the case to someone else?”
“Because of the flu. Half the force is in bed. And because my boss decided that it would further his cause to get more personnel if he creates a scandal. A small one, that is.”
She pressed her lips together. “He's impossible.” Then she swallowed. “I'll help you to find the murderer. The sooner this is cleared up, the better.”
He grabbed her arm and pulled her against him. “You won't do anything of the kind, Carlina. It's dangerous.”
