Elegant Death Page 17

  “No. Though she was very successful, of course.”

  “I guess. But that's no reason to kill her.”

  “No. I have to admit I don't envy her, in spite of the riches and everything.”

  Patrizio worked his way down her spine. “Because she was murdered?”

  “No. Because she didn't have any friends.”

  “I don't think that bothered her much. That morning, when she was here, she was in a good mood and even joked a bit. She didn't do that as a rule.”

  “Really? I've never heard anybody say that she joked. What did she joke about?” Carlina felt a shiver run down her spine and didn't know if it was because Patrizio had released a clenched muscle or if it was because a woman who was going to be murdered a few hours later had cracked a joke, contrary to her very character.

  “She said something about traveling a lot in the near future with her private plane, and that she was thinking about hiring a masseur to go with her all the time.”

  Carlina frowned. “I don't see the joke.”

  “She knew I don't fly on planes. I hate it like poison.”

  “So she said it to make fun of you?” Not out of character after all. What a woman.

  He shrugged. “Yeah. But it didn't touch me. I'm a born and bred Milanese, and I would hate to travel all the time.” He straightened. “We're done for today. If you have the time, try to come back tomorrow. Sometimes, the muscles need a little reminder.”

  “I'll see what I can do.” Carlina wrapped herself in a towel and went to the changing room. He held the door open for her. She smiled at him to say thank you and didn't see the two women just on the brink of coming out, looking at them.

  “Oh, hello.” Patrizio said to them. “Are you waiting for me?”

  “Yes.” Aunt Violetta rolled forward with her wheelchair. She was still fully dressed. “I'm delighted to see you because I've got a business proposition to put to you.”

  Fabbiola pressed her lips together. Her head was as bright red as a tomato.

  Carlina checked the room for escape routes. The door on the other end of the changing room was free if she managed to squeeze herself past her mother, but she couldn't very well run from here clad in nothing but a scanty towel. The locker with her clothes was way too close. If only it had been out of sight, around the corner. She tried to inch her way past the wheelchair, but her mother put herself in the way. “You've got to stop her.” Her whisper was loud enough to reach Patrizio's ears. “Now!”

  “It's got nothing to do with me, mamma.” Carlina sucked in her stomach and sidled along the wall like a crab.

  Fabbiola grabbed a corner of the towel. “Yes, it does! Think of the family name!”

  Carlina clenched her teeth and tried to pry the towel from her mother's hand. “Let me go,” she whispered.

  “Just ignore them,” Aunt Violetta said. “They're a bit conventional, but sooner or later, they'll understand the trends of the time.”

  Patrizio looked puzzled. “You mentioned a business proposition?”

  “Yes.” Aunt Violetta beamed at him. “I wish to hire you.”

  A wary look crossed his face. “I'm afraid I don't do personal attendance. You see, I tried it once, early in my career, and seeing the same person day in and day out didn't work for me. I need a bit of diversity.”

  Aunt Violetta clapped her hands. “But that's perfect! You'll love my proposition.”

  Patrizio started to look more interested. “What is it?”

  “I'm planning to build up a luxury spa.”

  His face lit up. “A new spa? Here in Milan?”

  “Well, almost.” Aunt Violetta didn't seem fit to mention the several-hour-drive to Florence. “And it's extraordinarily exciting.”

  Carlina managed to slip out of her mother's hands and hurried to her locker. If she turned her back on the whole thing, she might just pretend not to be there. But then she realized she couldn't. She had to see their faces. Drat it all. She flung her things onto the low bench in front of the locker and quickly started to dress without taking her gaze off the others.

  Patrizio seemed a bit hesitant now. “What do you mean, exciting?”

  “Well, you see, it's a luxurious spa combined with a high-class escort service, and –“

  Fabbiola interrupted her. “She wants you as a sort of prostitute. In a brothel for women.”

  Carlina gulped. Talk about being brutal.

  Aunt Violetta threw Fabbiola a look that should by rights have annihilated her to dust. Then she made a dismissive gesture with her hand and smiled at Patrizio. “My stepdaughter is a bit old-fashioned sometimes, as I already mentioned.”

  Fabbiola turned even redder. “I'm not your stepdaughter!”

  Aunt Violetta narrowed her eyes. “You'll soon be my dead stepdaughter, if you keep on getting in the way!”

  Carlina started forward. “Aunt Violetta, please.” She flung a distracted smile at Patrizio. “They're not usually this acrimonious.”

  Patrizio's face had turned puce, matching Fabbiola's skin. He balled his fists, making his admirable biceps bulge. “Are. You. Serious?”

  Aunt Violetta drew herself up. “It's a perfectly good job offer,” she said. “But maybe I've chosen the wrong location. Let me invite you for a drink, and we can discuss all the details quietly. I'll offer you a full package deal with bonus.”

  “I'm going nowhere with you!” Patrizio's voice was a roar. He took a step toward her, looking so menacing that Fabbiola grabbed the handles of the wheelchair and pulled it back. “How dare you insult me! I'm a trained masseur; I've spent hours on special courses and advanced trainings; I'm a fully licensed professional, and you dare to propose that I become a prostitute?”

  Fabbiola retreated another step. “She was only joking.” Her voice wobbled a bit.

  “I wasn't joking!” Aunt Violetta tried to stop the wheelchair from rolling back. “I'm perfectly serious, and if you only gave me the time to explain a bit, you would understand it's an advantageous offer. A great step in your career!”

  “A great step into the gutter,” Fabbiola muttered.

  “I heard that!”

  “Mamma, Aunt Violetta, please.” Carlina waved a sock, as she didn't have anything else at hand. “Please calm down. I think you misjudged the situation, Aunt Violetta, so the best thing to do is to apologize and go home.”

  “I won't apologize for offering this man a decent job!” Aunt Violetta pushed her chin forward.

  “This man has a name,” Patrizio growled. “But maybe it's better if you don't remember it. Let me tell you once and for all: I'm not available for hire.”

  Aunt Violetta shrugged with all the arrogance of a rejected queen. “Well, it's your loss. I know you'll regret this, but I can't stop you making stupid decisions. It's your life.”

  A pulse started to beat at his neck. “Please go before I lose my temper.”

  “My, my.” Aunt Violetta rolled her eyes. “I wonder what your boss will say if I tell him that you're asking his customers to leave.”

  He clenched his teeth so hard, his whole jaw grew rigid. “And I wonder what my boss will say if I tell him you tried to offer me another job.”

  Carlina blinked. “Who's your boss?”

  He stared at her. “It used to be Dorotea Di Silva.”

  Fabbiola jumped. “That means it's Enzo now!”

  Carlina pushed her to the side and turned the wheelchair around at such speed that Aunt Violetta almost toppled out of it. At the same time, she managed to give her mother a swift kick. “I'm sorry for everything,” she called over her shoulder. “We won't disturb you anymore.” She rushed them out of the room and only realized when she was outside that she was only wearing one sock, and that her shoes were left inside. Darn.

  “What on earth is the matter with you, Carlina?” Fabbiola stared at her.

  Carlina lowered her voice. “Don't you remember that we're here undercover? Officially, I've only met Enzo a week ago, and I'm his consultant.
You were just about to blurt out that Enzo is your son!”

  “Some great consultant you are,” Aunt Violetta grumbled. “You're nowhere nearer finding his murderer than you were in the beginning.”

  Carlina clenched her teeth. “I've got to go back and get my shoes.”

  Fabbiola stared at Carlina's feet. “My, Carlina, I'm starting to worry about you. What on earth made you walk out of there half barefoot? Aren't you getting a bit too forgetful?”

  Carlina decided to ignore her and sidled back into the room. Thank God Patrizio had gone back into his massage room. The sooner they could talk Aunt Violetta out of her business idea, the better. She'd never dare to go to another massage. What a shame. Just as she'd gotten used to it.

  When she came out of the changing room again, she saw Stefano coming toward her. He smiled and kissed her cheek. “Did you enjoy your massage?” He looked at Fabbiola and Aunt Violetta. “Hello, there. Have you been using the spa as well?”

  “No.” Aunt Violetta snapped. “I wanted to talk business with the masseur, but Fabbiola and Carlina managed to wreck all my plans.”

  Stefano exchanged a look with Carlina. “I see. Well, why don't you go get a bite for lunch? Unless you had it already? It's a bit late. Unfortunately, I need Carlina for a meeting. We'll see you later tonight at the hotel, all right?”

  He took Carlina's arm and led her away. “What on earth happened?” he asked as soon as they were out of earshot. “I've never seen Aunt Violetta like this.”

  Carlina sighed. “Aunt Violetta tried to offer Patrizio the job as prostitute, and he wasn't flattered.”

  “And I missed it. What a shame.”

  “It wasn't funny. At one moment, I thought he was going to attack her. She really hurt his pride.”

  “Well, no wonder. I wonder if he often gets proposals like these, being a masseur.”

  “It didn't sound like it.” Carlina put a hand onto her neck and gingerly moved it. “All the muscles he managed to relax are clenched again, but I can never go back.”

  “No, I see that.” Stefano smiled. “My massage was great, but before that, I had the chance to talk to Sergio on the phone.”

  “What did he say?”

  “I told him about the GPS idea of your mother's. He will check Dorotea Di Silva's clothes.”

  “Good.”

  “He also said that signor Belfiore arrived from the conference at his office. He checked all the files, together with his employees, and they realized only the Di Silva files are missing. The rest was just messed up.”

  Carlina stopped in her tracks. “This means it's got to do with the murder.”

  “Yes. I'll ask Sergio if they can get our own IT people onto it. Maybe they can rescue something somewhere.”

  “Yes, but first, we'll take that break we talked about.”

  He smiled at her. “The nap, you mean?”

  “Exactly.” They went past the glass doors that led to the staircase. On impulse, Carlina opened them. “Let's take the stairs instead of the elevator. I feel like moving around a bit. I'm not used to sitting in an office all day long.”

  “We'll feel dizzy when we're down. We're on the seventh floor, after all.”

  She gave him a saucy smile. “I'll hold you until you feel the earth firm beneath your feet again.”

  He followed her with a smile. “That won't work. When you hold me, the floor tilts all the time.”

  They had just descended one floor when a man came huffing up at great speed. His wavy black hair was gelled back, and an intense aftershave surrounded him in a cloud. He wore a loud shirt with pink and green stripes that reminded Carlina of happy summer days, probably because it looked like the awning of her favorite ice cream store, but the shirt didn't fit his mood. His mouth was one grim line, and he had balled both fists.

  “Buongiorno.” Carlina greeted him and wanted to go past, but a tug from Stefano made her stop. They had just started to descend the next flight of stairs and now looked over their shoulders.

  The man reached the landing above them, banged the glass door open and rushed into the corridor beyond.

  “This is the floor where all the directors have their offices.” Stefano turned and went the stairs up again.

  “So what?”

  “I think I recognized that man.”

  Carlina followed him. “You did?”

  “Yes. If I'm not much mistaken, it's Alessandro Stellini.”

  Carlina jumped. “Alessandro Stellini? The man from Camicie d'Oro? On his way to Enzo's office?”

  “Yes. In a towering rage.”

  She overtook him. “We've got to stop him.”

  They reached Liza's office a mere second after Alessandro Stellini burst into it. He ignored the secretary and went straight past, heading like a bullet to the only door that led to Enzo's office.

  Chapter 9

  Carlina ran after him.

  Enzo looked up. When he recognized the man in front of him, he jumped from his chair.

  “You!” Alessandro Stellini pointed his finger at him and shouted loud enough for the next five floors to hear him. “You're a nasty, low-down thief!”

  Enzo colored, but he didn't reply. His Adam's apple moved as he swallowed hard.

  Alessandro Stellini went up to the desk, placed both hands on it and moved his head and shoulders forward like a bull. “Sneaking, cunning, and mean. That's what she was and that's what I should have expected! I should have believed my father when he told me to never, under no circumstances whatever, have anything to do with anyone from the Di Silva clan again. I should have known she would cheat me. I should have known she would trample my brand into the dust.” He choked. “Adding her name to my brand! Contaminating it, making it part of her hateful universe.” He spit on the desk. “That's what I say to it!”

  Enzo didn't move.

  “Ha! You can try to look as innocent as you want! I won't believe it. You were her lover, her sunny boy. You knew all her plans, and you knew what she wanted to do with my brand, my precious brand! You helped her to cheat me out of my legacy, my rights. I declare, I have no patience with the likes of you. How you can still look in the mirror is beyond me!”

  Enzo drew himself up. “I knew nothing whatsoever of her plans.”

  “Oh, you didn't? And who'll believe you, eh? She left that whole business to you, and you say you knew nothing about it? Tell your lies to someone else! Can you stand there, look me in the eyes, and tell me you didn't know about her plans to change the brand name of Camicie d'Oro? Can you?”

  “I know about it now.” Enzo was pale. “I didn't know about it last week.”

  “Ha!” A bitter sound came from Stellini's throat. “And I'm supposed to believe that? When the agency already had the order to design the new logo by Thursday last week?”

  “I repeat, I knew nothing about it.”

  Stellini went around the desk. “My lawyer says I don't have a legal leg to stand on. I'm not done with your lawyer yet, who's a cheating, lying specimen if ever I saw one. But now, I talk to you, man-to-man. You are now the head of the company, and I appeal to you as such. Can you go ahead with this demeaning concept and feel proud of yourself? Can you take away the work of decades? My father lived and died for that brand. He did everything to make it a success. How can you trample on everything he built up?”

  Enzo flushed. “I don't trample on anyone. You sold the company, you agreed on a price, and you signed a contract. It's not my fault you didn't read it properly.”

  “How dare you talk to me like that!” Spittle flew from Stellini's mouth. He lunged at Enzo's throat with his bare hands.

  Stefano jumped over the table, grabbed Stellini's hands and drew them off Enzo's neck. Stellini kicked out and screamed.

  A startled voice came from the door. “My, my. Things are pretty steamy in here.” Benito Bellini appeared like the rising sun in the door frame, in tight yellow trousers and a matching scarf. “Can I assist you in any way?”

  “You can ha
nd me your scarf.” Stefano's voice was dry while dodging Stellini's kicks. “I don't have any handcuffs.”

  Benito smiled. “I can provide the handcuffs if you'll wait just a jiffy.”

  Liza appeared next to him and stared at him out of her big, brown eyes. “You've got handcuffs in the office?”

  He patted her shoulders. “It's just one of those things, ducky.” He unwound his scarf. “But I see things are a bit urgent. Here's the scarf. However, I absolutely have to insist on you reimbursing me if it should be ruined. It's a genuine Prada, and I'm very much attached to it.”

  “Oh, for heaven's sake, stop talking and hand us that scarf,” Enzo panted.

  With the united forces of Stefano and Enzo, they managed to bind up Alessandro Stellini who fought them bitterly. Benito watched and gave advice while Liza was frozen next to the door with her hands pressed against her mouth. Carlina stood at the side and gave a fervent prayer of thanks that her family wasn't near.

  “What's going on here?” A harsh voice came from the door, and Cervi and Sergio came into the office.

  It was a large office, but by now, things were a bit crowded. Carlina edged her way along the wall to get closer to Stefano, but she didn't take her gaze off her husband's boss.

  “This is Alessandro Stellini,” Stefano replied. “He threatened signor Ashley and tried to strangle him, so we bound him up.”

  “With my beautiful yellow scarf,” Benito cut in. “And I'm very much afraid it'll never be the same again.” With a mournful face, he looked at the knots Stefano had tied.

  “Eh?” Cervi stared at him. “What?”

  “My scarf.” Benito sighed and made a weak gesture toward the bound man. “It's from Prada, and there are special memories attached to it.”

  Cervi blinked. “I'm not interested in your scarf. I want to know why this man attacked signor Ashley.”

  “Because he's a sneaking thief and doesn't deserve any better!” Alessandro Stellini glared at them all. “It would have done the world a lot of good to be rid him!”

  “Ah!” Cervi took a quick step forward. “And did you also rid the world of Dorotea Di Silva? With a quick shot in the back?”