Elegant Death Page 16

  “How on earth will you ever find out what's missing?” Carlina asked.

  Anna swallowed. “We can easily count the boxes. But as to the content . . . that'll take weeks.”

  “How many boxes are there?”

  “One hundred thirteen.”

  Carlina's curiosity was roused. “What happens if you have more than one hundred thirteen customers?”

  Anna smiled. “Oh, only the most famous ones get their own box, to impress new clients. The others are filed outside, behind reception.”

  “And do you have a computer backup system for everything that's noted here?”

  The young man nodded. “We do, but you've seen what happened to it.”

  Stefano frowned. “Do you know where the box for Di Silva was kept?”

  Anna stretched out her hand and pointed straight ahead. “Under S, and there are usually two boxes next to each other, one for the private stuff, and one for the company stuff, but we do so much work for Di Silva that they're most of the time on the sideboard anyway.”

  They all turned to stare at the empty sideboard. “Where are the Di Silva boxes?”

  Anna frowned and bent down to lift up one of the overturned boxes on the floor, but Stefano stopped her. “You'd better leave it. First, the police have to take pictures.”

  Anna straightened. “I see.”

  “But maybe you can have a look without disturbing anything?”

  “I'll try.” Without touching anything, she walked around the boxes, squinted at the names and tried to see the contents on the floor. “Here they are,” she finally said. “Underneath the desk. But the contents seem to be gone.”

  Carlina and Stefano looked at each other.

  “Once the police have documented everything, make sure you carefully look for the Di Silva papers first. And if you miss them, tell the police immediately.” Stefano looked at Anna and then at the young man. “What's your name, by the way?”

  “Lucca Santa.”

  “Did either of you notice anything unusual in the office in the last weeks?”

  Both shook their heads. “No, nothing. Though it was a bit quiet of course, now that Dorotea Di Silva is dead.”

  “Oh, so she kept you busy?”

  Anna nodded. “Oh, yes. She demanded instant attention and had no patience whatsoever. When she didn't keep signor Belfiore busy with the company accounts, she had something to do on her private account. It was never ending, and whenever she was on the line, I turned into a jellyfish, I was so afraid of making a mistake.”

  Stefano slowly nodded. “You'd better tell all of this to the police. We have to go now, but when you reach signor Belfiore, please tell him we were here and would like to talk to him at the earliest opportunity.” He pulled out his fictitious consultant business card and handed it to her.

  “All right, I'll do that.” Anna took the card and carefully laid it on the huge desk.

  They took their leave from the two employees and hurried out into the street. “Phew.” Stefano took Carlina's arm. “I was afraid of meeting Cervi there, and that would have created a nasty scene, but I couldn't for the life of me just walk away without finding out a bit more.”

  “I'm speechless,” Carlina said. “I didn't see that coming at all.”

  “And I'm extraordinarily happy.” Stefano gave her one of his rare smiles.

  “Happy?” Carina blinked.

  “Yes. Because it shows the murderer got flustered, and it also shows your hunch was right. It's got something to do with the lawyer.”

  “But if he was the criminal, he wouldn't wreck his own office, would he? Instead, he would sit tight and not draw any attention to himself. At least, that's what I would do. So far, not the shadow of a doubt has touched him, but this action has now put him in the limelight.”

  “The breaking and entering might be for camouflage. It's a clever way to destroy incriminating evidence. If he simply took the files away, someone might remember them later and everybody would know that he would be the only one who could have messed around with them. Now, all bets are off. If the Di Silva files are gone, and I'm almost certain about that, then something in that lawyer's office stinks.”

  “Well, I'm curious to learn what the police will find out.”

  “Yes. I'll call Sergio later today. Maybe he will share a bit of knowledge if I give him that idea about her clothes.”

  “Her clothes?”

  “Yes. You remember? Your mother suggested we check her clothes for a possible GPS-thing.”

  “It sounds wildly unlikely.”

  Stefano shrugged. “The whole thing sounds crazy, but if there's one thing that can clear Enzo, it would be such a GPS-device. Right now, the whole thing hinges on the fact that only Enzo knew exactly where she was when the murder took place.”

  Carlina shuddered. “Gosh, don't tell mamma. She would break into the mortuary and fix one in the seams of Dorotea's shirt herself, just to clear Enzo.”

  Stefano smiled and took her hand. “Let's hope she won't have to go to such extremes. I've been meaning to ask you all the time . . . how on earth did you manage to turn out so normal, when the rest of your family is . . . ?”

  She lifted her eyebrows. “Is what?”

  He hesitated. “So unusual.”

  “Aha. Unusual is how you call it. I would call it stark, raving mad.”

  A small smile sat in one corner of his mouth. “I didn't want to insult your family, my dear.”

  She shook her head. “No matter what you say about them, I couldn't be shocked.”

  “Not even if I said they're boring?”

  Carlina opened her eyes wide. “Not on your life!”

  He laughed. “Ha! Got you. No, I don't think anybody could think them boring. That's probably about the only attribute you can never attach to any Mantoni.”

  They reached the lobby of the Di Silva building. Stefano dropped her hand. “Let's go find Enzo.”

  Enzo was running in circles around his desk, wringing his hands. As soon as the door had closed behind them, he looked at them with huge eyes. “This is driving me wild.”

  Carlina frowned. “What exactly do you mean?”

  “I mean this sitting in an office all day long, with all the world on attendance, not a single honest word, no joking around, no fun!” He almost shouted the last word.

  Stefano settled himself in one of the leather chairs. “What would be fun, Enzo?”

  “I want to be out on the streets again; I want to talk to people, really talk to them, want to hear the gossip and the feelings and the little fights. I want to sell my shirts the way I used to, showing the advantages, haggling over the price, meeting the real world. I want to be out there, independent and free. Right now, I'm in an ivory tower. All blessed day long, I have to talk about return on investments, read contracts that are seventy pages long, and go to stupid directors' lunches where it feels like swimming in a shark tank. Plus, they want me to play golf. Golf!” He shook himself. “It's driving me mad!”

  Carlina couldn't suppress a smile. “And yet, you've suddenly become an extremely rich man. Most people would envy you.”

  “I told you, I don't want these riches! I would never have accepted this stupid inheritance if I didn't need its power to stay out of prison!”

  “Well, as soon as we find the real murderer, you'll be free to give it all away,” Carlina said.

  Enzo sighed. “If we ever find him. If not, I'll have this block of concrete hanging around my neck for the rest of my life. Or rather, I'll be inside a block of concrete with wire all around to stop me from escaping.” He shook himself.

  “We'll find him. Or her.” Stefano's voice was deep and confident. “Something great happened today.”

  “Really?” Enzo threw himself into a chair opposite Stefano. “Tell me all about it. I need good news.”

  “Your lawyer's office was broken into, and at the same time, someone hacked their system. The Di Silva files seem to be stolen.”

  Enzo bli
nked. “And that's good news?”

  Stefano smiled a grim little smile. “Excellent news. It means the murderer doesn't feel secure. Sooner or later, he'll make a mistake, and then, we'll grab him.”

  Enzo shook his head. “Sorry, but somehow, that doesn't lift my mood at all.”

  Carlina put her hand onto his shoulder and shook him. “Now don't give up. We'll get there. Did you do your homework?”

  He stared at her. “You make me feel like I was ten again. What on earth are you talking about?”

  “You said you would find out if anybody else got fired by Dorotea in the last weeks.”

  “Oh, that. Yes, I did ask, and apparently, she was very mellow these last weeks. Nobody was fired, with the exception of Liza, that is. And even that bit of news didn't reach the personnel department.”

  “You mean . . . ?”

  “Yep. I mean Dorotea fired her without even talking to the ones who are supposedly responsible for recruiting and firing.”

  “Wow.” Carlina swallowed. “If you wish to keep her, you should tell her so right away. It'll be a huge weight from her mind.”

  He looked at her. “You're right. I'll tell her now.” He stretched out his hand to the telephone.

  “Maybe we shouldn't be present at that interview,” Carlina gently said. “After all, this is a confidential situation.”

  Enzo sighed. “All this confidential here and top secret that and hushing up there is driving me wild. And –“

  There was a knock on the door and Liza peeped around the corner. “I'm sorry to intrude, but Marco Riva has something urgent to say to you.”

  Enzo closed his eyes and sighed. “Everything is urgent. All the time.”

  Liza put her head to one side and regarded him. Then she said, “I'll bring you another cup of coffee. That'll make you feel better.”

  He lifted his head with alacrity. “That's an excellent idea, but first, come in and close the door behind you.”

  Her eyes grew wide. With a trembling hand, she closed the door. Her anxious gaze went to Carlina as if looking for help.

  She gave her a reassuring smile. Sometimes Enzo really is the limit.

  “I was told signora Di Silva fired you last Friday,” Enzo said.

  Her hand crept to her mouth. “Yes. Didn't . . . didn't you know?”

  “Nobody knew.” He made an expansive gesture with his hand. “She didn't even tell the personnel department.”

  Liza blinked.

  “Well, what I wanted to say is this, and as we never seem to have the time for anything in this crazy company, I thought I would just let you know before the next infernal meeting starts. You're un-fired.”

  Liza gulped. “Un-fired?”

  “You can stay. I don't want to look for a new secretary, and I don't need a paragon of efficiency anyway. I want someone who's kind, and you qualify, so I'm happy with the status quo.”

  Liza pressed both hands against her mouth and started to sob. “Oh, signor Ashley! Thank you so much!”

  Enzo threw a panicked glance at Carlina.

  She rolled her eyes at him, then went up to Liza and put a comforting arm around her shoulders. “No need to cry,” she said. “It's good news, isn't it?”

  “Oh, yes.” Liza's words were barely audible.

  Stefano handed Carlina a tissue, which she passed on.

  “Thank you.” Liza grabbed it and sniffled into it. It took her another minute, but when she'd dried her eyes, she looked up at Enzo and said again, “Thank you so much, signor Ashley. Signora Di Silva really made a good decision when she placed the company in your hands. I'm so glad it was you and not someone else.”

  Enzo made a face as if he'd bitten into a lemon.

  Stefano frowned. “Do you happen to know whom she would have chosen as the heir if it hadn't been signor Ashley?”

  She gave him a sunny smile. “Oh, no. I just wondered what would have happened if it had been her previous partner. She never seemed relaxed with him, though she got all those massages.” She cocked her head to the side. “Though maybe it was her back, and that's why she wasn't relaxed. She had serious back problems at the time.”

  “Who was the previous partner?” Carlina asked.

  Liza shrugged. “I don't know. He never came to the office.”

  “Do you happen to know where she usually met him?”

  “No. Whenever she blocked a date in her calendar, it only said 'private'.” She stared at Carlina. “Why do you want to know?”

  “The murderer of signora Di Silva has still not been found,” Stefano said. “So this might be interesting information for the police.”

  Liza shook her head. “But that was over months ago. I don't believe it has anything to do with the murder.”

  Carlina looked at her. “Then what do you believe really happened?”

  Liza shrugged. “Probably a maniac. Someone who doesn't believe in successful women. He stalked her, and when he got the chance to kill her, he took it.”

  Carlina blinked. Now that was an ingenious explanation.

  Liza looked at her watch and jumped. “I believe signor Riva is still waiting. He will wonder what has become of me.”

  Enzo sighed. “Did he say what he wanted so urgently?”

  Liza nodded. “Apparently, the banks need another signature from you before the monthly payment of the salaries can pass.”

  Enzo groaned. “Okay. Let him in.”

  “We'll leave you to it.” Stefano got up and went to the door.

  Carlina gave her brother an encouraging smile and followed him. Once out of earshot, she rubbed her neck. “I feel a headache coming on. Maybe I'll book another massage with this Patrizio guy, if Aunt Violetta hasn't yet managed to entice him away. Gosh, maybe she tried to offer him that job, and he's in a rage now.” She shuddered. “I don't want to be in his hands if he's angry. He might just accidentally break my neck.”

  “Cheer up,” Stefano said. “He doesn't know you're related, so you shouldn't be in any danger.” He looked at his watch. “You know what? I'll join you.” He stretched. “I like this about being independent. You can book massages in the middle of the day.”

  Carlina looked at him. “And maybe we can go out for lunch, then back to the hotel and take a nap?”

  He lifted his eyebrows. “A nap?”

  “A sort of active nap.” She gave him a saucy smile.

  “Aha.” He nodded slowly as if pondering her suggestion. “I see where your thoughts are heading, and I like it, signora Garini.”

  “That's settled, then.” Carlina slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. “First a massage, then lunch, and then a nap. It is our honeymoon, after all. And we'll deal with Enzo's problems again when the evening comes.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  They took the elevator up to the seventh floor, and fifteen minutes later, Carlina was already stretched out on the massage bed.

  She suppressed a groan when Patrizio started to work on a knotted muscle in her shoulder.

  “Have you been stressed out lately?” he asked. “If I remember correctly, you weren't this tense when you came here the last time.”

  Carlina wondered what he would say if she replied, “Yeah, well, I'm trying to find a murderer to make sure my brother doesn't have to go to prison.” She suppressed a smile and said instead, “Yes, it was pretty stressful in the office these last few days.”

  “Did you know we've got a special offer right now? If you book ten sessions, you'll get a discount, and you can redeem them anytime.”

  “That's a good idea, but I'm afraid I won't stay long enough in Milan. I'm only here for a . . . project.”

  “I see.” Patrizio nodded. “It's difficult to keep up a healthy lifestyle if you have to travel a lot.”

  “That's right.” Carlina nodded as if she were a much-traveled cosmopolitan who jetted from one airport to another at the drop of a hat.

  “My brother travels a lot, too, and I told him he has to pay more attention to his
body.”

  “I bet he liked that.”

  Patrizio chuckled. “Well, he's one of those IT nerds who thinks he eats healthy if he orders a pizza with bell peppers and drinks Diet Coke instead of the normal version.”

  “So what did you advise him to do?”

  “I bought him protein-muesli-bars and told him to do twenty sit-ups every night. He can do that no matter where he is, and it's a beginning.”

  Carlina could imagine the brother's feelings. “And?”

  Patrizio sighed. “He fed the muesli bars to the ducks in the pond outside his office. He said if God had wanted him to eat seeds, He'd have made him into a bird.”

  Carlina chuckled. “It sounds as if you should give up that particular conversation when the family meets.”

  Patrizio continued to massage Carlina's muscles with experienced hands. “I guess, but I don't find it easy. He has a lot of potential, and I hate to see him throwing that away.”

  “I know what you're talking about, but when it's family, you just have to let them go.” With a pang, Carlina remembered Aunt Violetta's business plans. She didn't dare to ask if he'd received any strange job propositions lately. Instead, she tried to steer the conversation once again toward Dorotea. “Did you know that I'm working as a consultant for the Di Silva group right now?”

  “No, I didn't. That's interesting. So you don't have far to go when you want to do a bit of exercise.”

  He clearly had a one-track-mind: how to find the quickest way to the sports studio. Well, why not? There were worse vices. “The whole office is buzzing with rumors about her murder, of course.” That was a flat-out lie. It was amazing how little the topic was discussed. As if they had all agreed on a policy of “least said soonest mended.” Maybe because they were all secretly in sympathy with the murderer.

  “I can imagine that it's the number one topic,” Patrizio said. “And what do they say?”

  Carlina remembered Liza's theory. “Oh, some say it was a lunatic who's got a thing about successful women.”

  “That's not very probable, is it?”