Tricky Death Page 18

  Aunt Violetta brightened. “Oh, yeah. I remembered having met a young man with a lot of charm recently, but I couldn't recall where.”

  “And so?”

  “So I asked Teo, because I knew he'd been with me when I'd met the young man, and he said it was the barkeeper at the Inferno d'Oro.”

  Carlina opened her eyes wide. “But the Inferno d'Oro … that's where Lucio was arrested.”

  “Yes, I know, but the barkeeper surely doesn't have anything to do with it.”

  Carlina bit her lips. “I'm not sure. I think it would be wise to steer clear of that club and everybody who's related to it until the murder is solved.”

  “Nonsense.” Aunt Violetta wiped a hand through the air. “He's a sweet young man. You can trust my experience, young lady. I've been around for long enough to know a murderer when I see one.”

  “Yeah. Sure.” Carlina shrugged and turned away. She wondered if she should call Stefano. She looked up and saw a young man with a shy look in his brown eyes standing in front of her. “Hi.” She smiled. “How can I help you?”

  “Oh, but this is very funny!” Aunt Violetta had seen the young man as well and now rolled forward with alacrity. “We've just been talking about you!”

  “Really?” The young man smiled. “I hope it wasn't anything bad.”

  “But no, of course not! I've only told Carlina here that you would be our master of ceremony. Carlina, meet Filippo.” She beamed at them both. “Carlina was worried that you might be involved in that murder in the club where you work, but I told her that's ridiculous.”

  Filippo paled. “I'd rather not talk about it.”

  “Of course not, dear boy. I understand how terrible it must have been for you.” Aunt Violetta shook her head. “But you needn't be afraid. Carlina here is married to the commissario in charge of clearing up the investigation.”

  Filippo sneezed, then looked at her. “Really?”

  “Oh, yes.” Aunt Violetta didn't give Carlina a chance to reply. “Have you met him?”

  “Yeah. He talked to everyone at the club.”

  Aunt Violetta nodded. “That's right. He's very conscientious. But not only that. You can believe me when I say he's the absolute tops.”

  Carlina blinked. She wondered if Stefano knew he ranked this high in Aunt Violetta's estimation.

  Filippo looked as if he didn't quite believe her, as well he might.

  “No need to look like that, my boy!” Aunt Violetta beamed at Filippo. “You can absolutely trust him. Stefano has solved every single case he ever touched, and if he looks at a criminal, he just sees right through them. It's amazing, really. Sometimes, I wonder if it's supernatural. He seems to know what criminals are thinking. He just looks at them in that inimitable way he has and poof – down they go. They know they don't stand a chance.”

  Carlina didn't believe her ears.

  Filippo cleared his throat. “Amazing.”

  Aunt Violetta patted his arm. “So you see, you can relax. Stefano will catch the murderer in no time at all.”

  Uncle Teo came up to them. “But how nice to see you, Filippo! We are so glad you could make it on such short notice.”

  Filippo nodded and sneezed again. “It's a nice change to serving drinks,” he said. “I'm actually thinking about quitting my job there.”

  “Well, if this business takes off as planned, we'll have plenty of work for you.” Uncle Teo took his arm and drew him away. “Let me show you the guinea pigs.”

  Carlina grabbed Aunt Violetta before she could follow them. “What on earth was that all about? Why did you paint Stefano like some kind of demigod?”

  Aunt Violetta gave her a sharp look. “But didn't you see? The poor man couldn't even talk about the murder. It must have shaken him deeply. I was just trying to make him feel safe again.”

  “Safe, my foot.” Carlina shook her head. “He must think you're in love with him.”

  Aunt Violetta gave her an arch look. “And what if I am? Do you fear the competition?” She rolled away before Carlina could gather her wits for a suitable reply.

  Chapter 17

  Garini threw down the receiver and ran for the door. The waiter had some explaining to do. What had he said during the interview? He hardly knew Ambrosia Amore? He'd blushed while saying it, and Garini had believed he'd fallen in love … He couldn't recall ever having been so far off the mark. The siblings had kept it a secret that they'd known each other. He wondered why. With squealing tires, he stopped his motorbike in front of the pub and hurried inside, but only the boss, Salvatore Ditto, was at the bar, polishing glasses as usual.

  Garini stopped in front of him. “I need to talk to your waiter, Filippo Arcardi.”

  Ditto sighed. “You again. I thought you'd be finished by now.”

  “Where is Arcardi?”

  “We only open at nine.”

  Garini looked at his watch. It was just past eight o'clock. Something nudged his brain. … Yes. He was supposed to be somewhere at eight o'clock. He had promised Carlina to be at the guinea pig event at Temptation. Well, it would have to wait. He looked at Ditto. “Arcardi should be here soon, then.”

  “Nah. Not tonight. He asked to come a bit later today, around ten-thirty.”

  “Do you know why?”

  “No. I'm not the damn police, asking tons of questions.”

  Garini sighed. “What about your other waiter?” Maybe Tonio would know a bit more.

  “He's got the night off.”

  Great. Just great.

  He turned on his heels, not bothering to say goodbye to the grumpy Ditto, and left. Belatedly, he realized that he shouldn't risk talking to a murder suspect all on his own. What on earth had gotten into him? He frowned and realized it was because he hated to be with Piedro. Amazed at his foolhardiness, he shook his head. If Tonio had been his assistant, he wouldn't have dreamed of going to the club on his own. The tricks his subconscious played on him!

  He stopped next to his motorbike and forced himself to call Piedro at the station. While the phone rang, he looked around. The lights in the bakery across the street were turned off, and the whole street was deserted, but at least, the sharp wind had dropped, and there was a balmy feeling in the air. Would spring finally come? He leaned his shoulders against the wall of the bakery and waited for Piedro to answer.

  “Pronto?”

  Finally. “Piedro, this is Garini. I need you to look up the address of Filippo Arcardi, the waiter at the Inferno d'Oro. It should be on file. And then we have to go and see him together.”

  “It's really very late,” Piedro said with a yawn. “I think it can wait.”

  Garini gritted his teeth but forced himself to speak with a low voice, so nobody could overhear him. “It can't wait. I've just learned that Filippo Arcardi is the stepbrother of Ambrosia Amore, and that they hated each other's guts.”

  “Oh.”

  Garini waited, but apparently Piedro had already reached the limits of his eloquence. “Are you coming?”

  “Wait a minute. I'll look up the address.”

  Garini heard some rustling noise, then Piedro came back on the line. “I … eh. There's a bit of a problem.”

  Garini grit his teeth. “What is the problem?”

  “He … em … I mean to say …”

  “You mean you don't have the address on file.” Garini sighed.

  “I'm afraid so.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, we … I think it's a procedure problem.”

  “Oh, is it?” He knew his tone was nasty, but he couldn't help it. For how long had people claimed their mistakes to be due to missing procedures or structures?

  “Yes. You see, we talked to him at the bar. That's a casual environment. It would have been different at the station.”

  “If we took all suspects to the station, we'd be even more overworked than we are.”

  “Yes. Well. But a bar is something … different. Special, like.”

  “You mean it made you feel as
if you weren't working.”

  “I guess.”

  Garini sighed. “Well, next time I ask you to do an interview on your own, make sure you cover the basics.”

  “You talked to him before I did. Did you ask for his address?”

  The nerve of him! With an effort, Garini kept his temper. “I didn't because I tried the friendly approach, to avoid scaring him off.”

  Piedro whistled. “That's a good one. I should have thought of that.”

  That did it. “Piedro, I've had enough of your attitude. I gave you the job to do the official interview, so it's your responsibility to get all the data on file. We all forget things from time to time, but pointing out to your boss that he didn't do something you should have done really is the limit.” Garini balled his fist. “Meet me tomorrow morning. We have to talk.” Then he cut the connection. He had the feeling he was foaming at the mouth, with steam coming out of his ears. “I can't stand him anymore,” he muttered. “He's unbearable. So far, he was only stupid, but now, he's also cocky. If I don't take care, I'm going to kill him.” He felt like jumping onto the motorbike and roaring through the Tuscan hills to work off his temper. Not possible, I'm afraid. He reined in his feelings with an iron hand. What could he do to find Filippo without delay? What if he was even right now leaving the country at top speed, having gotten cold feet?

  Social media! He whipped out his phone and entered Filippo's name. Nothing. Absolutely zero. With a frown, he entered Sluppo and found a Facebook page with Filippo's picture, taken on a summery day at the sea. But it was set to private and didn't give him any information he could use. Drat. He scrolled further down and discovered an account on Instagram with two pictures exactly. One showed a farm building, the other a Mercedes Benz. Double drat.

  Good thing Piedro wasn't here. He'd voluntarily have wrung his neck right now. Garini tried to calm his temper and to think rationally. It might not be such a catastrophe. After all, Filippo wasn't likely to ask for some hours off, only to sit at home. He probably had something to do somewhere, so waiting for him at his apartment didn't make any sense. No, it made much more sense to wait for him here at the club when he was supposed to arrive, at ten-thirty.

  Garini checked his watch again. He felt an overwhelming need to see Carlina, to pour out his troubles to her. But she was at the guinea pig event … but maybe he could at least see her. Her smile would make him feel better, even if she didn't have the time to listen to him. Yes, that's what he would do. He would take a break from police work and distract himself with some Mantoni craziness. Who'd have thought that his in-laws would come in useful some day? With a wry smile, he mounted his bike and drove to Temptation. Later, he could try to work out a strategy to deal with Piedro. If only he could fire him. It would give him immense satisfaction to do so. During the drive, he imagined that conversation, down to the last detail. What a lovely vision. With a bitter smile, he turned into Via Tornabuoni and immediately forgot Piedro.

  The street in front of Temptation was packed with people, shoving each other, craning their necks, calling out to each other. Loud music came through the wide open glass doors, then a voice announced. “Ladies and gentlemen, mark this historic meeting in your memories! One day, you'll be able to say you were personally present during the first guinea pig race ever here in Florence and everyone will envy you! This is the beginning of an era nobody will ever forget.”

  Garini stopped dead. He knew that voice. Could it be …? Quickly, he slid to the side and worked his way along the wall, toward the entrance. He knew from experience that the quickest way to get through a crowd wasn't by shoving from behind, but by getting in from the side. Half a minute later, he stood in front of a makeshift desk with a beaming Aunt Violetta seated behind it.

  To celebrate the occasion, she had put on a glittering red garment the size of a tent and had combined it with a sequined scarf in bright turquoise that actually blinked with little LED lights. She looked like a cross between a huge flower and a Christmas decoration and blocked the entrance effectively. “Stefano! So you made it after all. Carlina has been looking for you.” She made a vague move with her hand. “I'll give you free access, since you're a family member. She's somewhere inside.”

  The voice came again over the loudspeaker. “Signore, signori, I present to you the favorite: Grazia Afrodite Venere! A veteran in the show race, she combines experience with power, and she's in top shape today.”

  “Great text, eh?” Aunt Violetta chuckled. “I wrote it for him.”

  “Is that Filippo Arcardi?”

  “Yes, yes. Such a charming man. We met him at the nightclub.”

  Garini clenched his teeth. “I know.”

  “Have you seen the TV screen?” Aunt Violetta pointed toward the ceiling. “That was my best idea ever. The people outside can place their bets and save the entrance fee. Of course, to get the real racing feeling, you've got to be inside, feel the fever, get high on that incredible mix of suspense and fun and …”

  Garini didn't hear the rest of her sales pitch, because he'd already walked past her. A weight dropped from his shoulders. Filippo hadn't fled town. He was still here, and all he had to do was stick to him until the crowd had dispersed. Maybe he could tail him to work and catch him just before he went inside the club. He squeezed through the crowd and looked around, trying to find Carlina.

  Instead, he saw Tonio close to the racing table, touching shoulders with the girl from the bakery, Ilaria Marino. She whispered something into his ear, and he shook his head, laughing. So this was the reason he couldn't work tonight. Well, why not? The drug case was closed, and so he could go out with the woman whose nose had captivated him. With a reminiscent smile, he remembered his first meeting with Carlina. Again, he scanned the crowd to find her.

  By now, he had managed to squeeze himself right up to the end of the table closest to the exit. The course for the three racing guinea pigs was well-marked by little obstacles that looked like Lego blocks. Each course had a loop to jump through and a little obstacle to climb. He'd bet his last penny that not one of the guinea pigs would ever make it to the goal. Had Aunt Violetta given that as a betting option? He shook his head. Now was not the time to be diverted by guinea pig racing details. Where the heck was his wife?

  Finally, he discovered her, half hidden behind Filippo, with a beaming Ernesto on her other side. Stefano's heartbeat accelerated. How sweet she looked, her curls tousled, her cheeks red. She had a vigilant look, always checking the room, looking around like a sentry on duty. Well, no wonder. It was her store at stake, and with that many people inside, she surely had some qualms about possible damage. Good thing they had put away the merchandise and just left the posters.

  “And this, ladies and gentlemen, is Gustavo II. Look at him! Isn't he sweet?”

  Garini tore his gaze away from his wife and watched Filippo doing his presentation with obvious nervousness. He was pale and his hands trembled, but he gave out the words he was supposed to say with enough bravado to fool the crowd. He was rigged up with a microphone that allowed him to use his hands, and he held up Gustavo II, already in full show gear. The black guinea pig sported a sequined pink jacket with a waving pink plume fixed onto his back. Little LED lights had been sewn onto his jacket and blinked all the time. Garini shook his head. Now he knew why Aunt Violetta had worn that scarf – she had dressed up to match the guinea pig outfits.

  “Lovely show, isn't it?” Uncle Teo's voice suddenly said next to him.

  Garini looked at him.

  Uncle Teo wore a sequined cap in black and pink, and of course, it blinked with LED lights, as well. He touched his head. “Great cap, eh? Fabbiola knitted it for me, and then we asked the company who did the guinea pig outfits to add the special effects.”

  “I'm impressed,” Garini said truthfully.

  Uncle Teo nodded. “Violetta is a great business woman. She's got it all covered. Unfortunately, we forgot to provide an outfit for the master of ceremony.” He gave a critical look at F
ilippo dressed in jeans and a sweater that looked as if he'd hand-knitted it himself. “But we've already ordered one, so it'll be available in time for the next race.” Then he pointed to the tilted TV screen at the ceiling. “That was the best idea ever. No matter where you are, you can easily follow the game. Ernesto can move the camera with a remote control, so we can show whatever we want.”

  The TV screen above now showed a close up of Gustavo II, splendid in his show outfit.

  The crowd cheered.

  “Everybody loves Gustavo II, with his mane of black hair and –“ Filippo's gaze met Garini's. With a choking sound, be broke off, the guinea pig still held high above his head.

  Garini lifted his eyebrows in surprise.

  For one interminable second, they stared at each other.

  The crowd fell silent, too surprised to move.

  The screen above showed Filippo's pale face close up, frozen, his mouth half open.

  Tonio, at the side of the table, wiped his hair from his face and looked from Garini to Filippo with sudden understanding in his eyes. “Of course!” The words sounded loud in the sudden silence, though he said them under his breath. Half a minute ago, nobody would have heard him. Now everybody did. “Filippo is the murderer!”

  In one fluid move, Filippo dropped Gustavo II, reached with his right hand into the pocket of his jeans, pulled out a folded knife, flicked it open, and grabbed the person closest to him – Carlina. He moved behind her, clamped his left arm like a vise around Carlina's shoulders, and held the tip of the vicious-looking knife against her neck. “Don't move.” His jovial voice had changed to a growl.

  Everybody froze.

  Everybody but Gustavo II. When Filippo dropped him from the position above his head, he hit Filippo's left shoulder and would have fallen off in the ensuing quick move as Filippo grabbed Carlina, but his little claws had slid right through the stitches of Filippo's knitted sweater. Wriggling furiously, he tried to free himself but only managed to entangle himself so much more in the sweater that he couldn't have fallen off even if Filippo had stood on his head.