by Beate Boeker
She stopped when she reached the platform and looked around. While she was still standing rooted to the spot, the woman in the background climbed onto the battlements and threw herself down.
Cervi made a strangled noise in his throat.
The woman at the stairs turned in one quick move toward the spot where the other woman had disappeared, then ran to the edge and looked over it. Her hands in front of her mouth, she turned on her heels and rushed downstairs again, disappearing from view much quicker than she had appeared. The movie continued for another five seconds, finishing the full panoramic view of Florence in a slow arc. It was clear that the photographer had only focused on the background and had never even noticed what had gone on right in front of him. Then the movie stopped.
“It happened exactly as Fabbiola told us.” Garini's mouth was dry. For an instant, a mix of relief and excitement made him dizzy. He turned to his boss. “The second woman was Fabbiola Mantoni-Ashley. There's no mistaking her. She must have heard Olga's shout, and that's why she turned around. It's pity that this camera doesn't record noise.” He closed his eyes for an instant, gratitude for the Japanese and their technology washing over him. He could release Fabbiola now. I can't wait to tell Carlina.
“Can this movie be a fake?” Cervi's voice sounded grim.
Garini's eyes opened in a flash. “What? Of course it isn't a fake! How can a Japanese fake how two women walk, two women he's never met in his life?”
“You don't know that he never met them,” Cervi pointed out. “Did you check out his background? Maybe he's an ex-lover of Fabbiola Mantoni-Ashley.”
Yes, and I work for the Russian Secret Service. Garini choked down the words. Some things you can't say to your boss, even if it's obvious that he's clutching at straws. “I'll check out his background immediately, though the colleagues from Rome already did that, and they confirmed that everything is legitimate. I'll also find out if the Mantoni family has any Japanese connections.” He couldn't help himself; his voice sounded too sarcastic.
“You'd better do this quickly,” Cervi said. “We've already lost too much time by arresting the wrong person if this video can be trusted. I don't like to be made to look like a fool.” He turned on his heels before Garini could open his mouth.
However, when Cervi stretched out his hand toward the handle, the door opened all by itself and Gloria shoved first her ample bust and then her face through the opening. “Stefano, your girlfriend was here.”
Stefano lifted his head with alacrity. “Carlina? What do you mean, she was? Has she left already?”
“Yes.” Gloria rolled her eyes. “She was very impatient. Said it's urgent. And she was rude, too.”
Cervi looked at Garini with a reproachful expression on his face. “You should have talked to her. I know it's not easy to face the relatives, but it's part of our civic duty to do so.”
Stefano clenched his teeth. “I would certainly have talked to her immediately if I had known that she were here.” He turned to the receptionist who had inched into the room and now stood next to his boss with her chest pushed forward as far as it would go without making her topple over. “Why didn't you tell me immediately, Gloria?”
Gloria studied her fingernails. “I thought you were busy. You didn't go out for lunch, and whenever you don't do that, you're usually buried deep in a case, and besides, I thought it was only private, and we shouldn't spend office time talking to friends,” she gave a sly look to Cervi, “so I--”
“When was she here?” Garini interrupted her. One more word, and I'm going to strangle her.
Gloria pouted, then sighed. “I don't know. Some time ago. Half an hour, maybe?”
Half an hour ago, and she'd said it was urgent. He knew that Carlina wouldn't come to his work and say it's urgent unless something momentous had happened. Stefano jumped up. “The next time she comes, admit her immediately. No matter what I'm doing; no matter who's with me. Is that clear?” He grabbed his jacked from the back of his chair. “I'm going to see her right now.”
“Shouldn't you first be checking on the background of the Japanese?” Cervi's voice was dulcet.
Garini slipped past him and out the door. He was past the point of being polite to his boss. “If Carlina comes to the police station to see me, she gets first priority. The Japanese can wait.”
II
Carlina stared at the thin knife in Ugo's hand, then forced her gaze away. She clenched her jaw and hoped that her lower lip didn't tremble. Thank God Ugo had bound her so tightly, or she would have shivered in her seat like a little rabbit. Attack is the best form of defense. She lifted her chin and met his gaze straight on. “Yes, we're going to talk, Ugo, and you can start right away. How did you kill your mother?”
“I didn't kill my mother.” The hard muscles in his broad jaw combined with the small eyes made him strangely look like a shark.
“But you had a huge row with her on Sunday night, you'll admit that!”
“That's got nothing to do with it!”
“Oh, yes, it does.” Carlina gave him her best glare. “Because it gives you the perfect motive.”
He shook his head. “I didn't kill my mother!”
“You inherited a fortune; you had a row with your mother; and you have a temper you can't control.” Carlina didn't mince words. “Three perfect prerequisites for murder.”
His face turned an ugly red. “I can control my temper. And you shouldn't forget that your dear boyfriend arrested your mother, not me.”
Carlina hissed. “By mistake. They'll soon discover that.”
He bared his teeth in a grin. “I still think it's best if she stays where she is.”
Carlina decided not to pursue this line any further and came up with another reason why Ugo was the murderer. “Besides, you don't have an alibi. That's very suspicious. Instead of saying where you spent the day, you prefer not to say anything at all. That smells fishy.”
“I was with Francesca!”
“Ah.” Carlina tried to look arrogant but wasn't sure if she succeeded. “And why couldn't you say so?”
Ugo seemed stunned. “Because--” He broke off.
“Well?”
“Because my mother wouldn't have approved of Francesca.”
“But your mother was dead, Ugo.” Carlina wondered if he was more than dumb. Maybe he was mentally retarded.
Ugo pushed his lower lip forward like a petulant child. “I didn't want to involve Francesca. I – we had only just gotten to know each other.”
Carlina cocked her head to the side and considered him. Up to a point, the answer even made sense. She decided to return to her original question. “Why did you kill your mother?”
The red color in his face deepened. “I didn't kill my mother! How many times do I have to say that?” He lifted the knife and brought the tip to the side of her neck, where her blood pulsed through the artery.
Fear turned her brain to mush when she felt the slight pressure of the cool metal on her skin. Keep on talking, Carlina! Keep on talking! “You'd better be careful with that knife,” she heard herself say. “I've got an allergy to nickel, and I might break out into a rash.”
He frowned. “This knife if made of stainless steel.”
“That's what they say,” Carlina started to babble. “But who knows what kind of alloy they really use. I've recently read up on it because my allergy is bad, and there are new European laws that determine the amount of nickel you can use in anything that touches the skin. In the past, these laws were only valid for anything that was in constant touch with your skin, like jewelry, but nowadays, even other products have to be free of nickel.” Thank God she'd had nothing else to read during a boring afternoon at Temptation. Carlina launched herself with full steam into the next round on nickel. “Take ballpoint pens, for example. You know the little metal tip at the furthest end of a ball pen, right where the refill appears? It's made of metal, and you would say that it never really touches your skin, because you're not supposed to s
uck on your pen or press it against your forehead while thinking, I mean, it would be stupid, as you would turn all blue or black or red, depending on the refill, of course” gosh, I sound like a maniac, “but the new laws say that even this little bit of metal at the very tip of a ball pen has to be nickel-free.” She paused to catch her breath and was relieved to see that Ugo looked dazed and that the knife had descended somewhat. “So you see, if this knife is old, then it's absolutely possible that it'll have nickel inside because the new European laws weren't valid at the time when it was produced, and--”
“You sure talk a lot.” Ugo lifted the knife again. “Now shut up.”
Chapter 12
I
“Oh, Commissario, I'm so glad you're here!” Elena ran out of Temptation to meet Garini before he could descend from his motorbike. “Carlina left in a tearing hurry and hasn't been back for ages! That's not like her at all, and I have no idea what to do.”
Something cold wrapped itself around Garini's heart. Damn Gloria. Why had she refused to let Carlina in? What had Carlina tried to tell him so desperately? “Did she tell you where she wanted to go?”
“No.” Elena shook her head. “She said something about Francesca and Ugo, but I didn't really understand, and she had no time to explain.”
Garini clenched his fists. This was worse than he'd thought. “Have you tried to call her?”
“Oh, yes, I called her just now. But she doesn't answer her phone. What should I do?”
“Nothing.” He was already turning the heavy machine into the other direction. “Close the store when it's time to go home and stay put.”
“Yes, but--”
Garini didn't hear her anymore. He raced down the street and arrived in record time at the Mantoni family home, where he bumped into Uncle Teo who was just leaving the house. Uncle Teo staggered back. Garini caught the frail man by the shoulders and set him back onto his feet, as gently as possible given the immense strain he felt. “I'm sorry. I hope you're all right? Where's Carlina? Is she at home?”
Uncle Teo looked at him with a worried frown. “No. But she called and asked for Ugo's address.”
A sick feeling pooled inside Garini's stomach. Oh, no. “When was that?”
“Not very long ago.” Uncle Teo scratched his head. “I think Santa Croce was just chiming the half hour. Though I might be mistaken. Maybe it wasn't the half hour. Maybe--”
Stefano turned on his heels and jumped back onto his motorbike. “Thanks!”
As he raced through the historical streets, his heart hammering inside his chest, he kept thinking one phrase, one phrase only, repeating it like a mantra, praying to a God he only half believed in. “Please let her be all right. Please let her be all right.”
He stopped right in front of Ugo's luxurious apartment building and ran inside, then showed his identity to the startled receptionist. “Police. Please accompany me upstairs to the apartment of Signora Ottima and her son.”
The receptionist recoiled. “I did nothing wrong. I swear I--”
“Yes, fine. I just need a witness.” Garini grabbed the arm of the puny receptionist and pulled him upstairs behind him. “Hurry.”
In front of Ugo's apartment, he rang the bell so hard that the button got stuck and the jangling inside never stopped. Then he started to beat at the door. “Police! Open up!”
The receptionist took a step back. “Maybe I'd better--”
“You're staying right here.” Garini continued to beat with his fist at the door while grabbing the receptionist's arm with the other hand. “Now help me to knock.”
“Knock?” The voice of the little man turned shrill. “That's not knocking. That's beating down the door. And you have no right to--”
“You're damn right I have no right.” Garini knew that he was risking his job, breaking into a civilian's apartment without the proper document. “But the woman I love is inside this apartment, and I have no idea what's happening to her.” His words were a snarl.
The receptionist looked at him askance. “The woman you love? You mean the one who fainted?”
Garini froze. “She fainted?” Carlina only faints when she hears bad news. “Are we talking about the same woman here? Dark Curls? Eyes like a cat?”
“I didn't see her eyes,” the receptionist shrugged. “She fell outside and hit her head. But yes, she had dark curls. And Signor Ugo very kindly picked her up and said he would call the doctor. But the doctor hasn't come yet, which is a bit unusual. In fact, I--”
Garini blanched. “Oh, Madonna. Stand back.” He pushed the man to the side and started to kick at the door with all his might.
“You can't do that!” The little man wrung his hands. “You're destroying property!”
“If I'm wrong, I'll pay for it.”
The lock finally burst from its frame, making the wood around the door splinter. Garini pulled his gun and stepped inside with caution. “Ugo! Come out. You're surrounded.”
The receptionist looked around. “Surrounded? By whom?” He retreated toward the escalator.
Garini ignored him and inched forward, throwing each door open, checking every room without offering a target, but he couldn't hear a sound, couldn't see anyone. Methodically, he continued until he got to the bedroom. It was empty. Damn. A sinking feeling replaced the adrenaline that had pumped through him. What if she wasn't here after all? What if this was a wild goose chase? He shuddered as he imagined explaining to his boss what he had done.
He was just turning away again, when he noticed a slim door toward the rear, covered with the same wallpaper as the rest of the room. What was this? A wardrobe? He kicked the door open and jumped to the side again, then he saw her.
Carlina was sitting on a chair in the middle of the narrow walk-in wardrobe, bound with twine all over. Her eyes were huge, and next to her neck was a sparkling knife, held by the massive Ugo who glowered at him.
“If you shoot, I'll cut her throat,” Ugo said.
Garini didn't reply. Quick thoughts were running through this mind, years of training kicking in. It's possible that he'll harm her even while falling. I can't take the risk. Talk to him. Distract him! “How did you kill your mother, Ugo?”
Ugo's face turned red. “But I keep telling you that I didn't kill my mother!”
“Then why did you bind up Carlina and why are you threatening her with a knife? What did she do to you?”
Now Ugo looked as if he was going to burst a blood vessel. “She turned Francesca against me. She told her about my mother. She--”
Carlina turned her head and stared at him. “I told her nothing but the truth! How long did you think you could keep your mother and her death a secret? Tell me that!”
Ugo's mouth worked. “I would have told her. Soon. I was waiting for the right moment.”
“The right moment to tell bad news will never come,” Carlina said. “Besides, that's no reason. You've kidnapped me, bound me, threatened me. That's completely out of proportion. It doesn't make sense. Garini is here; you've lost. Now let me go.”
Ugo stared at her with the whites showing all around his eyes. It was obvious that things had spiraled out of control, and that he didn't know how to get out of the mess his temper had created.
Garini inched closer. If only he could overpower Ugo, could somehow take the knife from him. He would have to use a moment of surprise to avoid endangering Carlina. His hands felt slick with sweat.
Ugo stopped talking and pressed the knife against Carlina's neck. “Stay right where you are, Stefano! If you come any closer, your precious girlfriend will suffer.”
“I've already told you that I'm allergic to nickel,” Carlina snapped. “So you'd better remove your knife. Now, be good enough to have some sense. Don't you see that you've maneuvered yourself into an impossible situation? The only thing you can do now is to hand over your stupid knife and to trust that people will judge you leniently, assuming you've gone crazy with grief because of the death of your mother.”
Gar
ini looked at her with raised eyebrows. Nickel? What on earth was she talking about?
Ugo's hand shook. He opened his mouth, but never managed to say a word, because at that instant, a little whirlwind of fury burst into the room. “And one more thing,” Francesca screeched as if she were still in the middle of an argument with Ugo and had never left the building in a tearing hurry. “If you think you can insult my family like this and get away with it, I'll--”
Ugo stared at her, his jaw sagging.
Garini decided in a split-second that this was the chance he'd been praying for and took one tackling leap forward, smashing the barrel of his gun against Ugo's wrist. The knife fell to the ground with a clatter.
“What is this?” Only now, Francesca took in the general situation. “Ugo! Oh, Madonna! What have you done? Have you gone crazy? Why have you tied Carlina up like that?”
Ugo pushed his lower lip forward. “I wanted to punish her.”
“Punish her?” Francesca went right up to him, placed her hands onto her non-existent hips, stood on tiptoes and pushed her face into his. She looked like compressed fury – tiny but deadly. “Why do you have to punish my best friend? Why? Tell me!”
Seeing that Ugo was too transfixed by Francesca to notice anything else, Garini slapped a pair of handcuffs onto Ugo's wrists and said, “I'm arresting you for wrongful deprivation of personal liberty and attempted assault.”
Ugo stood there like a man who was hit by a wall. He blinked once, slowly, then stared at his manacled wrists as if he couldn't believe it.
“Now see what you've gotten yourself into!” Francesca scolded him like a five-year-old. “And why? Can you answer me, please?”
Ugo opened his mouth and closed it again. “She . . . she turned you against me.”
“She turned me against you?” Francesca's voice could easily have been heard seven floors down. “She turned me against you? No, my dear, you did that all by yourself! Why weren't you honest with me? Why didn't you tell me about your mother? And about the murder? Why?”
