Elegant Death Read online

  The bound man turned red. “No, I didn't, but I wish it had been me! She didn't deserve anything better, and I for one am glad her life ended as it did. Now she can't wreak havoc with other's people's lives anymore!”

  Carlina frowned and bent forward. “When did you learn about the plans to change the brand name of Camicie d'Oro, signor Stellini?”

  Stellini spat on the floor. “Yesterday. I learned about it yesterday, and I drove right away from Florence to Milan to tell him,” he shot a venomous look at Enzo, “what I think of his sneaking methods!”

  “They aren't my methods,” Enzo shouted. “I only inherited it!”

  “So you did!” Stellini shouted back. “And I wonder why! She will have had her reasons, and she wouldn't have done it if she hadn't trusted you!”

  Enzo balled his fists. “She wrote wills as a sort of recreational hobby, and it was just my bad luck to be the current heir at the time of her death!”

  Stellini laughed. It was a harsh laugh. “Who's supposed to believe that? Are you seriously trying to make me believe you had no idea about her intention to leave you the pile?”

  “None whatsoever.”

  “And you don't want her riches? What a tale!” Contempt spread over his face.

  For the first time, Carlina took the time to really look at his face and study him. He would have been a good-looking man if his eyes hadn't been so close to each other and if he'd not had such a weak mouth and chin. For a moment, she felt pity for him. Being the child of someone hugely successful and famous can't have been easy, particularly if he'd become aware of his own shortcomings in comparison to his father.

  Enzo returned the contemptuous look with a vengeance. “I accepted this inheritance for one reason, and one reason alone. It's the only way to keep me out of prison.”

  “What's that?” Cervi frowned.

  Enzo turned on him, “Well, it was obvious you had me painted as the culprit, and as long as I had a position of power and wealth, I knew I would be treated with more respect than if I was just average me.”

  Sergio spoke for the first time, emphasizing each word. “But if you had refused the inheritance, it would have spoken in your favor.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Enzo snorted. “You would only have said I was doing it because I'd gotten cold feet. Better free and poor than rich and in prison or some stuff like that, that's what you would have said!”

  Sergio and Stefano exchanged a quick look.

  “We need to take you to the police station,” Cervi said to Alessandro Stellini.

  “What? I have done nothing, nothing, I swear!”

  “If you don't count trying to strangle signor Ashley in front of witnesses,” Stefano said.

  “I didn't mean it that way! I wouldn't have gone through with it! I admit I was in a bit of a temper, but that's nothing.”

  “You can explain it at the station,” Cervi repeated.

  “If you'd just untie him first.” Benito made an apologetic gesture. “That scarf is really quite precious to me.” He turned to Cervi. “If you don't have any handcuffs, I can go and fetch mine. They're quite sturdy, and they're not made of gold, even though they look like it. It's just lacquer.”

  A vein started to pulse on Cervi's throat. “Grazie mille.” The words seemed to choke him. “We've got our own.”

  Carlina suppressed a chuckle. She could just imagine Cervi's reputation if he came into one of the Milanese police stations, accompanied by a suspect in golden handcuffs. He'd never live that down. They'd probably call him commissario d'oro, the golden inspector, for the rest of his life.

  “Untie him,” Cervi said to Stefano. “So there's no more talk about this scarf. I've already heard more than enough about it.”

  Stefano hesitated. “I'm not sure I'd–“

  “Go on.” Cervi interrupted him. “We can discuss details later.”

  Benito lifted his eyebrows.

  Carlina bit her lip. They weren't very good about keeping their cover.

  With a shrug, Stefano undid the knots and freed Stellini. Then he took a step back.

  At the same instant, Stellini jumped forward, threw Sergio against Enzo, so they both fell to the floor, ran around the desk like a hare and rushed to the door. He took Liza by the shoulder and threw her aside, then, before anyone could move, he raced out of the office.

  Stefano and Cervi both ran after him.

  Sergio groaned. His head had hit the floor, and he was bleeding from a cut above his eyebrow.

  Carlina pulled a tissue from her pocket and knelt next to him. “Here. Press this against the wound.” Then she turned around. “Liza? How are you?”

  Liza picked herself up from the floor with a dazed expression on her face. “I . . . I'd never have thought that working in an office is a dangerous thing.”

  Carlina scanned her from top to toe. “Are you hurt?”

  “Oh, no. Just shaken.” She lifted a trembling hand to put her hair in order.

  “Why don't you call Franco and ask him to take you for a short walk and some coffee?”

  Her eyes widened. “A walk? Now? But it's the middle of the day.”

  “Yes, now. You've had a shock, and you need a bit of time to recompose yourself.”

  Enzo got up from the floor and dusted off his trousers. “She's right, Liza. Take an hour off.”

  “I . . . I . . . oh, grazie! Mille, mille grazie!” She turned on her heels and clattered through the outer office.

  Carlina turned back to Sergio. She helped him up, so he could sit in one of the leather chairs. “Better now?”

  He smiled. “Yes, thank you.”

  Benito was still standing at the side, caressing his scarf as if it were a pet. “I'm not confident we'll get rid of these creases,” he said under his breath. “Maybe I'll ask the laundry for expert advice. Yes, that's what I'll do.” He gave them all a languid wave and left the office, softly closing the door behind him.

  Carlina sighed and turned back to Enzo. “If Stellini only learned about the changed brand name yesterday, it can't have been his motive for murdering Dorotea last Saturday.”

  Enzo made a face. “Maybe he lied.”

  “He was too excited to lie, if you ask me. Besides, he wouldn't have been in such a temper if he'd heard about it several days ago. That would have left him enough time to cool down.”

  Sergio slowly nodded. “I agree.”

  “Drat.” Enzo sat on the desk and swung one foot. “There goes my best chance to stay out of prison.”

  The door opened again, and Stefano and Cervi appeared. They were both flushed and out of breath, and one glance at Stefano's face was enough to tell Carlina that Stellini had escaped.

  “You didn't catch him?” she asked anyway.

  Stefano shook his head. “No. He ran down the stairs at breakneck speed, but at some point, when we couldn't see him, he must have made a detour into one of the office corridors. We ran all the way to the ground, thinking he would take the quickest way to get out of the building, but when we came to the piazza, we couldn't find a single trace of him.”

  She could tell he was angry with himself for not having thought about the possibility.

  “Are you going to search the building?” she asked.

  “Yes.” Cervi replied. “Luckily, we saw a patrol outside, so we asked them to secure the front and back entrance until the force arrives. We stopped the elevator as well, so we can comb the building, starting at the top, without anyone getting away by any other means than the staircase. And we've given the alert, so even if we don't find him in the building, we'll pick him up in no time. I've come back to get a printout of Alessandro Stellini's picture, so the force will know who to look for.”

  Enzo nodded and went to his computer. “I'll search for him and print some pictures. He's in the press all the time, so that shouldn't be too difficult.”

  Stefano looked at Carlina. “I've come to tell you that I'll help with the search.”

  “All right.” Their eyes locked, an
d she knew they were both thinking about the active nap they were missing. But of course he couldn't very well refuse to take part, honeymoon or no honeymoon. She suppressed a sigh. “Can I help?”

  Cervi blinked. “We can't let civilians help with police business. It's too risky.”

  Carlina suppressed the urge to roll her eyes and didn't reply.

  Cervi looked at his subordinate. “How about you? Are you fit enough to join in?”

  “Yes, yes.” Sergio heaved himself out of the chair. “It's just a scratch.”

  “Here are the pictures.” Enzo took them from the printer and handed them to Cervi.

  Cervi looked at them. “Thank you.”

  Sergio's phone beeped. He pulled it out and read the message. His jaw grew slack, and he looked up with an incredulous expression on his face. “They've found a GPS device in the seam of Dorotea Di Silva's trousers.”

  “What?” Enzo jumped up. “That's fantastic! Then I'm cleared!”

  Cervi looked daggers at Sergio. “You shouldn't have mentioned confidential police business while the main suspect is within hearing.”

  Sergio colored. “I'm sorry. I . . . I was just too surprised, so I blurted it out.” He looked at Stefano. “When you told me to check for it, I thought it was a wild shot in the dark, a desperate try. I'd never have thought it would come to anything.”

  “Well, the kudos belong to my mother-in-law,” Stefano said. “It was her idea.”

  “Who cares whose idea it was?” Enzo jumped around the table like a spring lamb. “I'm not the main suspect anymore! That's what counts! I'm not! The GPS device proves that! After all, I didn't need a GPS device to find her. I knew where she was going to be on Saturday night.”

  Cervi looked at him. “Unless you were playing a double game.”

  “Oh, come on, commissario capo, cool it. I'm a simple man. Strategic thinking like that is way too complicated for me.”

  Carlina suppressed a smile. Enzo was right, but it wouldn't help if she confirmed it. They wouldn't believe her anyway.

  “We'll have to discuss this later,” Cervi said. “For now, we've got more urgent business to attend to.”

  The three policemen left the office, and Carlina was left alone with Enzo who still grinned as if he'd just won a prize.

  “This is good, Carlina, isn't it? It a point in my favor.”

  “Definitely.” She settled on the edge of the desk and swung her leg. “And now, I think you should call the advertising agency.”

  “The advertising agency? Why? Alessandro already said he learned about the planned change of the brand only yesterday.”

  “That's what he says. And if it's true, he doesn't have a motive for murdering Dorotea. What if he realized this and didn't say the truth? After all, this is the one point that might clear him.” She sighed. “It's such a shame. He had the motive, he had the temper, and who knows? He might even be a good shot.”

  “He's not,” Enzo said.

  “How do you know?”

  “He's not good at anything. He never was.”

  “Poor guy.”

  “One might feel sorry for him if he weren't such a pompous egomaniac. As it is, I'm glad he's in custody now.”

  “It'll depend on you how long he'll stay there.”

  Enzo's eyes flew wide open. “On me?”

  “Yes. You were attacked. You are the one to bring charges against him.”

  “Oh. I see.” Enzo wagged his head. “He was out of his mind.”

  “It certainly looked like it.”

  “On the other hand, he really got a raw deal by Dorotea.”

  “True.”

  Enzo touched his neck and made a grimace. “You know what, I'll think about it, but first, I'll call the agency. It's a good thing I already had the manager on the phone yesterday, or we would have to go through all the preliminaries first.”

  He turned to his computer and opened his mail account to find the contact, then punched in a number. After a short wait, he started to talk. “Signor Lapidori? This is Enzo Ashley. I'm just checking up on some timelines. Could you please tell me when Dorotea Di Silva sent you the briefing for the new brand name of Camicie d'Oro?”

  The head of the advertising agency talked with a full, round bass. Enzo held the receiver a bit away from his ear, so Carlina could hear him as well. “That was last Thursday, at four thirty in the afternoon.”

  Enzo's eyebrows soared. “I'm impressed. How come you know that by heart, without even looking it up?”

  “Easy.” Signor Lapidori's voice was dry. “I was just about to leave early for once because it was my son's fourth birthday, but when the briefing came, I had to drop everything and stay in the office because the deadline was so tight.”

  “When was the deadline?”

  “This Wednesday.”

  “And was this a normal time frame?”

  “For signora Di Silva, it was normal. For any other company, not. We usually need at least three weeks for a substantial creation like that.”

  “You mean you wouldn't have accepted the deadline from anyone else?”

  “That's what I mean. But the Di Silva account is prestigious, and keeping it was and still is our top priority.”

  “I see. Could you please tell me a bit more about your process? You say you stayed longer that night. Did you talk to anybody else about the briefing?”

  Signor Lapidori hesitated. Then he said, “Look, I can't see where you're heading with your questions. Have you had the chance to look at the drafts we've sent?”

  “I've seen them, and they are very good.” Enzo looked at Carlina, a question in his eyes.

  She nodded.

  “But to be honest, I'm not calling to discuss them. I'm calling because someone from your agency might have leaked the information about this project.”

  “What do you mean?” The bass had turned into a bellow.

  “Someone came into our office today and told us they'd heard about the planned brand changes.”

  “Who was it?”

  “I'm afraid I can't tell you at this moment.”

  “And this someone said they'd had it from us?”

  “No. But there are very few people who knew about this project.”

  “Who knew about it on your end?”

  “As far as I know, nobody but Dorotea knew about the suggested brand change. I only learned about it when I saw your e-mail this week.”

  “Do you seriously mean she didn't discuss this project with anyone at all?”

  “I don't think so. She used to keep things close to her chest.”

  Signor Lapidori didn't reply. Apparently, he knew about that particular trait. Then he said, “How about her secretary? Does she have access to her e-mails?”

  “No.”

  He sighed. “Three people here knew about the project. Myself, our art director, and our creative director. We all signed the confidentiality agreement. And I'm ready to vouch for both of them.”

  “I suggest you talk to them about it. And when you do, please tell them I'm not looking for punishment. In fact, the earlier they leaked the information, the better pleased I'll be.”

  “Am I supposed to understand that?”

  Enzo shook his head. “Not now. But I'll explain later.”

  Another sigh. “All right. I'll get back to you asap.”

  The line had barely disconnected when the door flew open, and Liza exploded into the room, screaming at a high pitch that shrilled in the ears.

  Chapter 10

  Carlina ran to her. “What happened?”

  Liza pressed both her fists against her mouth and cried with great, wracking sobs that shook her whole body.

  Enzo stared open-mouthed at his secretary.

  Carlina took Liza by the shoulders. “Liza! What's the matter?”

  “There's a . . . a . . .” She broke off and sobbed on and on without stopping.

  Carlina shook her gently. “Calm down. It's all right. Just tell us.”

  Fin
ally, Liza found her voice, with a vengeance. “I can't stay here! It's dangerous. Everyone's dying. Who knows who'll be next?” Hysteria grabbed her. “Someone here wants to kill all of us! We're in danger! I want to get out of here!” She twisted out of Carlina's hands. “Let me go! Let me go! I don't want to stay!”

  Carlina put herself at the door, blocking the way out. “First tell us what happened, Liza.”

  Liza hugged herself and wailed. “I can't say it!”

  Enzo and Carlina exchanged a startled glance.

  Liza pushed Carlina to the side. “I'm not staying another minute in this office! It's cursed! I want to live; I don't want to be the next to die!”

  Carlina grabbed her sleeve. “Who died?”

  Liza rocked to and fro. “I . . . I can't talk about it. Just let me go, oh, please let me go! I didn't know I'd find him there. It's was such a shock. It was my sanctuary, a bit of calm in the hectic day, all for myself, now that signora Di Silva is gone, but this . . .” She broke down with muffled sobs.

  Carlina let her go and ran out of the office.

  Enzo was at her heels. “Where are you going?”

  “To the women's bathroom.”

  They opened the door and burst into the tiled room. Two stalls were at right angles to the washing basin. Both doors were closed.

  Carlina came to a full stop and stared at the closed doors.

  Then she looked at her brother. “I'm afraid to open them,” she said.

  Enzo made a step backwards. “I shouldn't be here anyway.”

  Carlina grabbed his elbow. She knew her brother's tendency to avoid difficult situations. “Oh, no, my dear. You stay.” She took all her courage into both hands and opened the farthest stall door by pressing the handle down at the very end, using only her fingertip. It swung open without a sound. It was empty.

  Enzo shook himself free. “Liza must have been raving. There's nothing here.”

  Carlina gave him a look and went to the second stall, the one right next to the entrance door. Taking a deep breath, she had to force herself to repeat the action. She pressed the handle down, taking care only to touch the farthest end. As before, the door swung open without a sound – and revealed a fully-dressed man, sitting slumped on the closed toilet seat. “Oh, my God.” Carlina quickly averted her gaze.