temptation in florence 04 - expected in death

by Beate Boeker

  “She died of cancer, ages ago. And before you ask: Nico and his wife are also dead. A car accident. I always wondered if Olga organized it, but of course, you can't prove anything. So you see, you can't ask them anything anymore.” She stared into space. “You know, even though Olga was a sick person, in some respect, she's right: It's during your youth that you set the course for the rest of your life. You choose your job and your partner for life – or at least, that's what you hope you do. Even if the marriage should break up, it will still be an important part of your life that you'll never forget. And it'll leave scars on your soul.”

  Garini frowned. He had the impression that Violetta was speaking from experience.

  “Don't you sometimes wonder what your life would have been like if only some little incident had been different?” Her old eyes pierced him, but she didn't wait for an answer. “One tiny detail, and everything careens off course. I bet Olga spent years mulling over that evening and its consequences for her life. She would not have seen that her own actions before the dance were to blame for Nico's flight from town.” She sighed and shook herself. “Anyway, it's as I said. You can't talk to Nico and his wife anymore.”

  “Right.” Garini nodded. “So I've just got to believe everything you say.”

  “You could do worse.” Aunt Violetta looked pleased with herself.

  To wipe the smug expression from her face, Garini said, “By the way, where did you spend Monday?”

  Aunt Violetta started to laugh until her whole body and the old sofa was shaking. “You're not seriously asking me if I climbed up to a Tower and heaved a woman over the top, did you? In my condition?”

  “You might not have done it personally,” Garini replied with an even voice. “You threw Olga out during your birthday party. You said you would find a solution for the problem. And you have a son who's willing to do anything for you.”

  The laughter stopped as if cut off.

  Garini met Omar's gaze. Omar didn't bat an eyelid, but something in the atmosphere changed. So far, Aunt Violetta had orchestrated the meeting. Now, Garini was having the upper hand. “Where were you on Monday between four and five in the afternoon?”

  “He was here with me,” Aunt Violetta said. “I'm willing to swear to that.”

  “Of course you are.” Garini didn't bother to hide the irony in his voice.

  Aunt Violetta cocked her head to the side, changing the topic abruptly. “I just had an idea. What if we managed to pin the murder on me? I could take Fabbiola's place.”

  Garini closed his eyes and decided to fight her with her own weapon – honesty untempered by politeness. “You're too old.”

  “What?” Aunt Violetta sat up straighter. “I'm not too old to commit a murder.”

  “You said yourself a minute ago that you would never have gotten up that tower, let alone been able to heave Olga over the battlements.”

  “Ptschah.” Aunt Violetta shook her head. “You'd be amazed at what I can do if I put my mind to it. Indeed, I'm not too old to commit a murder. I'm just too old to be put into prison.” She cackled. “Isn't that right? Didn't our dear Prime Minister Berlusconi change the law so that people above seventy can't go to prison anymore? A clever man. He only changed that to avoid ending up there himself.”

  Garini managed not to roll his eyes. “Yes, he did. But you'll be made to work at social services instead.”

  Aunt Violetta lifted her chin. “I would like to see them trying that! After all, I'm in a wheelchair; that would hardly prove practical.” She beamed at him. “Now we have the solution, Commissario! You just have to arrest me and release Fabbiola instead. It's perfect!”

  IV

  Carlina handed another bra to the customer who was hidden inside Temptation's changing booth. “Why don't you try this size? It might fit better.”

  A hand grabbed the bra, then a wail came out of the cabin. “Size A? You mean it has come to this? My boobs have shrunk to a mere size A? I would never have thought that age could do this to me.”

  “It's a great cut with some very subtle padding.” Carlina tried to make her voice soothing. “Nobody will notice.”

  “How about the clasp? Is it made of nickel? I'm allergic to nickel.”

  “No.” Carlina mustered up all the patience she had. “That clasp doesn't contain any nickel.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. I'm allergic to nickel myself, and I've been using that model for months.”

  “For months? So it's an old model?”

  Carlina clenched her teeth. “It's one of the most popular models in the standard collection. Should I bring you another model that just came out?”

  “Nah. Leave it.”

  Carlina closed her eyes for an instant. She found it hard to concentrate on her job today. All day long, she had felt as if she were living underneath a heavy cloud with a storm coming closer every minute. The fight with Stefano made her feel unbalanced, out of sync with the world as it should be. His message last night had given her a bit of comfort, but his absence had left a gaping hole. Thank God her assistant Elena had come back from her trip around the world. Two weeks ago, she had called to say she had run out of money and asked if Carlina would take her back. Carlina had accepted with alacrity and was looking forward to taking some more time off in the next few days now that Elena had already gotten reacquainted with the business. In fact, she could already leave her alone at the store this afternoon.

  Carlina rubbed her brow, trying to massage away the headache that was building up. Maybe it was because of the abrupt change in the weather. A sudden heat, combined with yellow clouds that made everything look dull, made the atmosphere oppressive and filled her with an uneasy premonition.

  At this instant, someone touched her shoulder.

  Carlina yelped and turned around in a flash, scared by the appearance of a soundless stranger. Then she recognized the small woman in front of her and kissed her on both cheeks. “Francesca! You scared me. How are you?” She tried to hide her nervous feelings behind a wide grin. How on earth could she broach the subject of Ugo? Did she want to be responsible for taking away the smile from Francesca's radiant face?

  “Hi, Carlina!” Francesca beamed at her. “Ugo told me he met you. I'm so glad you already got to know him. Isn't he wonderful?”

  Carlina swallowed, but before she could formulate a careful response, her friend had already swept on.

  “Wasn't he sweet, to buy underwear from Temptation for me?” Francesca blushed. “He's so thoughtful! And I know that he's very shy, so it must have cost him quite an effort!”

  “It did.” Carlina was glad to confirm this statement, so she wouldn't look like a spoilsport.

  “I decided to get another set of the underwear he bought for me. It's so comfortable, and I love the design.”

  Carlina cleared her throat. “Sure.”

  The curtain to her changing booth was swept to the side, and a disheveled customer shot out. “Nothing in here fits a woman of a normal size.” She crossed the tiny store in a flash and was out of the door before Carlina could open her mouth.

  “Gosh.” Francesca opened her eyes wide. “Do I take it that we are not women of a normal size?”

  Carlina grinned at her. “Obviously not.” She went to the changing booth and collected the pieces strewn all over the floor.

  Francesca turned to see the models on display. “You can't image how happy I am. Ugo is such a big softy. He looks tough, but underneath, he's totally different.”

  Oh, yeah? Carlina was glad that she could pretend to look for something on the floor, so she didn't have to meet Francesca's eyes.

  Francesca lifted her hand and pushed the hangers to the side to find the right size without stopping her chatter. “You should have seen him on Monday morning. He was totally upset about a fight he'd had with his mother.”

  Carlina froze in the middle of picking up a bra. Monday morning? The day Olga was killed? She barely managed to make an encouraging noise dee
p inside her throat.

  Francesca was still concentrating on the models. “Damn, I can't find this in S. Do you think it's sold out?”

  “Let me check the storeroom for you.” Carlina went into the storeroom at the back but called over her shoulder. “You were telling me about Ugo's fight? What was it about?”

  Francesca followed her and leaned against the door frame. “It sounds to me as if she's a real dragon. I'm not looking forward to meeting her, I have to say.”

  So he didn't tell her? Francesca doesn't even know that Ugo's mother was killed? What kind of relationship is this? Carlina straightened and stared at her friend. “But--”

  “Oh, I know.” Francesca shrugged. “It shouldn't matter, but there are enough Mamas around who manage to alienate you from their precious sons. Still, I hope I'll get along with her. What do you think?” Hope and doubt mixed in her face as she looked at her friend.

  Carlina averted her face. I have to tell her. But how?

  Francesca was already continuing, too wrapped up in her thoughts to notice Carlina's unusual behavior. “Though maybe now isn't a good time. It seems they're not speaking.”

  I bet they aren't.

  “You see, Ugo has this dream of setting up a small hotel and café. They even have a house at lake Garda, close to Bardolino, that could be renovated and would be perfect for such a development.”

  Carlina blinked. Ugo a hotel manager? She couldn't imagine him making anybody feel welcome.

  “. . . but his mother is dead set against it. She actually told him that he's too stupid to deal with a business of his own.” Francesca's voice swelled. “Can you imagine that? What kind of mother speaks like this to her son?”

  Carlina opened her mouth but no sound came out.

  “Ugo was furious. You see, technically, it's her house, but she doesn't need it. Apparently, she has tons of money, but he doesn't get anything unless he does exactly what she wants. She pulls the strings.” Francesca crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I think it's high time to tell her to get lost. Apparently, he tried to do that on Sunday, but she only laughed at him and told him that he would never get anywhere without her. Can you imagine that? So cruel.”

  Carlina felt like a fish on dry land, gasping for air. She stared at the rows of boxes in front of her without seeing anything. I have to call Stefano.

  “Oh, there it is!” Francesca's arm shot past her nose and grabbed a box from the shelf. “Gosh, I'm so happy that you still have my size.” Her gaze fell to her watch. “Oh, Madonna! It's late! I have to run.”

  “Francesca, stop!” Carlina grabbed her friend's arm and held onto the sleeve. “I have to tell you something.”

  “Does it have to be now?” Francesca once again glanced at her watch. “I promised Ugo I would meet him--”

  “It's about Ugo.” Carlina gulped. “He--” She broke off, not knowing how to break the news gently. She didn't want to take away the glow on Francesca's face and witness a return of the dejected friend she had seen only a week ago. What a roller coaster life is. She bit her lower lip.

  “What? What is it? Why are you so pale?”

  “Do you know Ugo's last name?”

  Francesca stared at her. “What kind of a question is that? Of course I know his last name. It's Tadori.”

  Carlina blinked, momentarily confused. Then she understood: Olga had returned to using her maiden name after the death of her husband, and so, Francesca had never made the connection, even if she had heard about the murder on TV or read about it in the newspaper. “His mother is Olga Ottima.”

  Francesca gasped. “No!”

  “Yes.” Carlina nodded to emphasize her point. “But I have even worse news. Here, sit down.” She pulled a folding chair from its hook on the wall and pressed her pale friend onto it. “I'm afraid there's worse.”

  “What? What could be worse? I'll never be able to present him at home!” Francesca's voice lifted into a wail. “My mother will kill me! She doesn't ever want to see Olga Ottima again. Never!”

  “Well, she won't.” Carlina tried to swallow, but her throat was too dry. “Olga was killed on Monday.”

  Francesca's eyes widened until the whites could be seen all around. “You're kidding me.”

  “No. And my mother is in prison because the evidence against her is overwhelming.”

  Her friend clasped both her hands in front of her mouth and shook her head, speechless.

  Carlina stared at her, biting her lip. I have to tell her that Ugo is dangerous. And a millionaire because of his mother's death. I have to tell her that he's a suspect. She has to be very careful.

  Have you gone out of your mind? a little voice inside her screamed. This is confidential information. Stefano only gave it to you to make you feel better. He would be extremely angry if you told Francesca. Why, the first thing she'll do is go to Ugo and confront him with everything. Keep your damn mouth shut!

  Francesca stared at her and zoomed onto the one point that interested her most. “Are you telling me he knows about it?”

  Carlina nodded. “Yes. Of course he does.”

  Francesca jumped up. “And he didn't tell me one single word? I can't believe it!” She stormed out of the storeroom and ran into the street. “I'm going to kill him!”

  “Francesca, wait!” Carlina ran after her friend, but Francesca jumped onto her Vespa and accelerated down the street before she could stop her. “You have to be careful!” Carlina waved with both arms to get Francesca's attention and screeched at the top of her lungs. “He can be dangerous!”

  A group of Chinese tourists stopped in wide-eyed wonder, then readjusted their shining sunglasses and slowly resumed their chattering progress down Via dei Tornabuoni, giving her a wide berth.

  With shaking hands, Carlina took out her cell phone and composed a text to Francesca. “Ugo is a suspect in his mother's murder!” No. She couldn't send that; that would give everything away. She deleted the message and tried again. “Ugo has a temper. Don't risk anything.” That was all right, Garini couldn't object to that. She knew that Ugo had a temper because he had shown it long before his mother's murder. But would Francesca heed her? She doubted it. Maybe she should follow her, should make sure that she wasn't alone with Ugo? But where had she gone? Where was Ugo now?

  Carlina leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. Calm yourself. Breathe in. Now out. What's your best course of action?

  “Carlina!”

  Carlina jumped, then relaxed when she recognized her assistant Elena who had appeared next to her elbow.

  “Why are you outside? And why do you look so pale?” Elena scrutinized her boss's face with a puzzled frown.

  “Thank God you've come!” Carlina grabbed her assistant's arm. “I've to go to help Francesca with Ugo. It's urgent. Can you mind the store?”

  “Sure, but who's Francesca? And who's Ugo? And--”

  “Thanks!” Carlina ran back inside, grabbed her keys and handbag and rushed out again. “I'll make it up to you!” She shouted the last words as she jumped onto her Vespa, slammed the helmet onto her head and kicked the machine into action. By disregarding more rules than she'd ever broken before, she arrived at the police station in record time and ran inside, her helmet still on her head.

  The entry to the police station was narrow. It wasn't clear if this was done on purpose to avoid the station being easily accessed by crowds or if it was simply born from the fact that the building was old. To the right, a receptionist sat behind a wall made of glass with only a small opening in front. Carlina would have preferred to sidle in without being seen, but a turnstile similar to the one at the entrance of a supermarket blocked the way to the offices behind. Probably some sort of strange safety measure.

  The woman behind the glassed-in reception lifted her head like a dog that's scenting danger. Her t-shirt was cut so low that her ample cleavage seemed to fill the opening in the glass wall.

  “I have to see Commissario Garini! Right now!” Carlina panted more fro
m nerves than from the short run from her Vespa to the entrance.

  “Take off your helmet!” The receptionist rolled back her chair, her hand hovering underneath the table.

  “What? Oh, sorry. Sure.” Carlina ripped it off. “I have to see Commissario Garini on urgent business. It has to do with the murder of Olga Ottima.”

  The receptionist frowned. “Who are you?”

  “My name is Caroline Ashley.”

  “Oh.” The receptionist lifted her eyebrows and gave her the once-over.

  Carlina smoothed down her unruly curls but met the curious gaze with a bit of steel in hers. “As I said, it's really urgent.”

  “Is he expecting you?”

  “No, but I'm telling you it's urgent. I have to see him right away.”

  The receptionist yawned. “I'll see what I can do.” She dialed a number, listened for half a second, then put the receiver down again. “The line is busy.”

  “Never mind.” Carlina was fairly dancing with impatience. She could feel sweat pooling between her shoulder blades and running down. It was way too hot and stuffy in the small entrance. Besides, it smelled of cheese. Old cheese. “Let me go up, and I'll explain in person as soon as he's free.”

  “I'm afraid I can't let you do that. Civilians don't have the right of access here.”

  Carlina clenched her teeth. “Then please go upstairs yourself and ask him if he'll come down. It really is urgent.”

  The receptionist slowly shook her head. “I'm not allowed to leave my desk.”

  Carlina bent forward until she was eye to eye with the cleavage. If there hadn't been a glass wall between them, she would have been tempted to grab the receptionist by the neck. “Now listen. It's your job to convey important messages to the police staff working here, isn't it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I have an important message for Commissario Garini. I don't care how you do it, but you have to tell him so, right now.”

  The receptionist sighed, shook her head, and got up. “If everybody was as rude as you . . .” She didn't finish the sentence but left without another word.