Tricky Death Page 19

  Garini's heart contracted. He was too far away to do anything, with the whole length of the table between them. With terrible clarity, he remembered the words of the priest: Filippo in a temper was capable of anything. Though right now, he wasn't in a temper. He was in a panic, with sweat rolling down his face in big drops. Garini didn't know if that was worse. Unable to do anything, he stared at his wife in the hands of the murderer. On the screen above, the tip of the knife was clearly visible, and even as they all watched, mesmerized, a small drop of blood ran down Carlina's white throat. Garini's ears roared.

  And then, everything seemed to happen at once.

  Gustavo II made another move and managed to swipe the plume on his back across Filippo's face. Filippo shuddered and sneezed violently.

  Carlina cried out, and without thinking, Garini jumped onto the table and ran toward her.

  Filippo didn't see him. One sneezing fit after the other shook him violently, but still he kept his hold on Carlina, and Gustavo II kept waving to and fro on his shoulder, the plume magnifying every move.

  Garini jumped from the table and rammed his fist into Filippo's face.

  The knife fell with a clatter to the ground. Filippo crashed down, still sneezing like crazy.

  Something landed on Garini's back and pushed him to the floor, right on top of Filippo. From the corner of his eye, he saw a black shape descend on him, smothering him completely. He grabbed it with both hands and tore it off his face to breathe, but as soon as he did, something pink and blinking came down and blinded him. He gasped for air.

  “Sorry, my boy.” Uncle Teo sounded out of breath. “I got the wrong head.” The wrap on his head – it turned out to be Uncle Teo's hat – was removed and Garini's face was free. He still had trouble breathing, though. His whole upper torso was crushed by a heavy weight. Garini pulled up his legs – thank heavens they weren't blocked – and bucked like bull. The weight toppled off with a shriek.

  “Stefano, what are you doing!” Fabbiola's face appeared level next to him on the floor. “I'm helping you to catch a criminal, and all you do is kick me off!”

  He wrenched his left arm out of a tangle of Mantonis and jumped back. His chest was heaving while he quickly scanned the room to take stock. Filippo was flat-out and face-down on the floor, sneezing without once taking a breath. His face wasn't visible because Uncle Teo now had found the right head and had pulled the sequined hat over Filippo's face, right down to his neck. On his upper body sat Fabbiola with a grim expression. The middle part was occupied by Ernesto, who had also grabbed both of Filippo's hands and held them fixed in the small of Filippo's back. One of Filippo's legs was held by Tonio, his Hungarian sheep-dog hair flying, the other by Annalisa who seemed to enjoy herself. Emma had not bothered to kneel, after all, she still had little Zoe in her arms. Instead, she drilled one of her high heels into Filippo's rear end. Now she gave him a little kick and said, “You little toad. Because of you, my husband is in prison.”

  Finally, Stefano found who he was looking for.

  Carlina had sagged to the floor, her back along the wall. She held a hand to her throat, and a small trickle of blood was seeping out between her fingers.

  He pulled her up and crushed her to him. “My love.” His voice was thick. “I'll never forgive myself.”

  She chuckled a bit watery. “It's not your fault.” With a sigh, she pressed her head against his shoulder and held him tight.

  Without letting her go, he asked, “Why on earth did Filippo react like that when he saw me?”

  “You've got to thank Aunt Violetta for that. She painted you as a sort of hero with supernatural powers. No wonder he got stuck in his text when he saw you. You really looked grim, you know. I saw you the same instant he discovered you.”

  “Aunt Violetta.” He lifted his head. “Where is she?”

  “I'm here, Stefano.”

  Aunt Violetta had managed to push her wheelchair through the crowd, no doubt with sheer brutality, and now held the remote control of the TV in her hands. She pushed a button and the camera above zoomed in on them.

  The crowd cheered. From somewhere came the sound of a siren. “That'll be the ambulance,” Aunt Violetta said. “Benedetta and Leo were out on the street. I told them to call the doctor and the police.” With a satisfied smile, she pressed another button, so the video camera zoomed in on the flattened Filippo.

  The crowd started to stomp their feet and clap their hands.

  “Great atmosphere,” Aunt Violetta said with satisfaction. “That's better publicity than we ever dreamed of, Carlina. I'll ask Ernesto to put the video on YouTube.”

  Garini loosened his arms just enough to look at Carlina. “Let me check your throat, Caralina.”

  She tilted her head. The blood had already stopped flowing, but her top was beyond redemption.

  Relief flooded him. “It's just a scratch.” He kissed the top of her head. Without letting go of his wife, he turned back to the assembled Mantonis. “I suggest that someone pluck Gustavo II from Filippo's shoulder. He's probably allergic to guinea pigs, and that's why he sneezes so much.”

  “Oh, so that's why. Of course.” Uncle Teo bent down in slow motion and started to untangle the little guinea pig.

  “And by the way, how did you get here so quickly?” Garini frowned. “The last time I saw you, you were standing at the other end of the table, by my side.”

  “When I saw you jumping onto the table, I was very much impressed. Dashing young hero, coming to the rescue of his love.” Uncle Teo turned his head and winked at him. “You inspired me, and somehow, I couldn't remain in the back and watch. I'm not quite as athletic as you are, though, so I asked two young men to lift me up. They were very helpful.”

  Garini wondered if Aunt Violetta had managed to catch that on the video, as well. If yes, he'd love to see it one day.

  Emma plucked at his sleeve. “Can you release Lucio now?”

  Tonio, from his position on the floor, sitting on one of Filippo's legs, pulled at his trousers. “I say, I'm so very sorry, commissario. I should never have blurted out what I thought.” The bunch of Hungarian dog-hair quivered sadly.

  Garini looked down at him. “Don't worry, Tonio. All's well that ends well, and we might not have gotten such a clear result without your intervention. Though I'm still wondering why on earth you leaped to that conclusion.”

  “It was the look on Filippo's face, a mixture of guilt and panic. And suddenly, I realized that the most likely person to have used the Zwilling knife from the bar was the one who was handling it all night long. He’d used it earlier for the pineapples.”

  “A very good deduction, Tonio, particularly as you didn't know he's the much hated stepbrother of Ambrosia Amore.”

  Tonio whistled. “I see.” Then he turned his head to look at Carlina. “I'm so sorry you were hurt.”

  Carlina smiled at him. “If that little scratch was necessary to get Lucio out of prison, I'm fine with it.”

  Garini's heart swelled. He pulled her closer to kiss her, but again, Emma pulled at his sleeve. “Stefano, I do understand you want to kiss your wife, but I want to kiss my husband, too. When will you release Lucio?”

  “As soon as we've got this case wrapped up, Emma. I'll work on it all night. But give me this minute.” He turned back to Carlina. “Promise me you'll go home and clean that scratch.” He caressed her cheek. “Then rest. Let the others do the clean-up tonight.”

  “I can't do that, Stefano. I've got to open the store again tomorrow. Besides, I wouldn't be able to rest. I'd be too nervous with everyone milling around at Temptation.”

  He knew she was right. “Okay, but at least talk to the people from the ambulance and ask them to disinfect that scratch.”

  “Yes, I'll do that.” She gave him a tender smile. “Don't worry.”

  Aunt Violetta's voice boomed out behind them. Somehow, she must have gotten the mic from Filippo. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, we'll continue with the first genuine guinea pig
race ever in Florence!”

  Garini didn't believe his ears, but he decided not to get involved. Let the Mantonis do their thing. He had a criminal to put away. Together with Tonio, he hauled Filippo to his feet. Holding him tightly between them, they escorted him out to the waiting police car. Filippo still had the blinking cap over his face, and Garini didn't take it off until they'd reached the station. As soon as Filippo was safe in a cell, he asked his colleague, Sergio, who had prematurely ventured back to the office after his attack of the measles, to join in the interview. On the way downstairs, he quickly explained the situation to him.

  They took Filippo to the small interrogation room where it smelled of fear and dust. Garini opened one of the windows wide to let in the cool night air. The window was barred on the outside with solid iron bars, so there was no risk Filippo would try to run. It was by now eleven o'clock at night, and the harsh light in the room showed Filippo's face in every detail. His brown eyes were wide open, and he was pale, but he managed to smile. “I say.” He gave them a little wink. “What a night. Sorry about that. My temper sometimes gets the better of me, but you know how it is.” He shrugged a bit. “No hard feelings, eh?”

  Sergio turned his considerable bulk to Garini. “I'm sorry, Stefano,” he said as if he was a bit slow-witted. “If I remember correctly, you said this young man here is known for losing his temper, and he actually threatened and hurt your wife with a knife. How on earth can he come to the conclusion there won't be any hard feelings, even if we didn't consider the fact that threatening people with knives is a public offense?”

  “I have no idea.” Garini turned to Filippo. “Let me start by saying we'd like to record this interview. Is that all right?”

  Filippo shrugged. “Yeah.”

  Garini switched on the device and gave the preliminary information. Then he looked up. “You have the right to have a lawyer present, and I strongly advise you to ask for one.”

  Filippo quickly shook his head. “I don't need a lawyer.”

  Garini sighed. “I think you do. You've been arrested because you attacked someone with a knife in front of at least fifty witnesses.”

  “I tell you, it was a little slip of the temper. It won't happen again. I promise!”

  “If you don't know a lawyer, we can arrange one for you.”

  “I don't want a lawyer!” A flash of temper showed in Filippo's eyes. “This is nothing really serious. Okay, I admit it wasn't particularly clever, and I shouldn't have pulled out my knife, but that happens to everybody from time to time, right?”

  “No, it doesn't.” Garini decided to drop the matter of the lawyer. He had done everything that was officially needed, and now he could proceed. Truth be told, he wasn't keen on waiting for a lawyer because he wanted to get as much as possible out of Filippo while he was still shaken. “The most important question right now is why you lost your temper. Why did you feel the need to take out your knife?”

  Filippo's gaze slid away. “I … I can't recall.”

  “Let me jog your memory.” Garini's voice was dulcet. “Someone said you were the murderer of Rosetta Rana.”

  Filippo broke out into a sweat. “The murderer of who?”

  “You know very well who I mean. We know enough about your relationship to your stepsister and about the heritage you didn't get to hold you for the murder of Rosetta Rana.”

  Filippo jerked back. “You … you've found that out?”

  “Yes.”

  The young man kneaded his hands. He stared at both men, then at his hands, then up again. “I … it wasn't supposed to happen. But she'd been so bitchy, all the time.”

  “Please start at the beginning, with your childhood.”

  “Oh.” Filippo swallowed. “Well, there's nothing much to say. When I was five, my mother married Rosetta's father.”

  “How about your own father?”

  Filippo shrugged. “I never knew him, and I didn't want to. My mother once said he'd left us when I was still a baby. I wanted to have nothing to do with him.”

  “Proceed.”

  “Well, we came to the lago di Trasmeno in winter, and I was miserable. The whole area is just shrouded in fog. For weeks! It's enough to drive anyone insane.”

  “I'd rather not talk about the weather, if you don't mind.”

  Filippo sighed. “Oh, all right. Rosetta was two years younger than I am. She was jealous from the start and always made scenes. So exhausting. My stepfather really liked me better, and that was no wonder. She moved out when she was eighteen, and nobody missed her. But then … the boat accident happened.”

  “Where were you?”

  “I'd gone to Rome, to be with some friends. When I heard my stepfather hadn't left me anything, I was speechless. He had never wanted Rosetta to get anything.” Filippo balled his fist. “I should have made sure about his will. I just never thought he would die. It was all so … so sudden.”

  “And then?”

  “I thought I might be able to talk to her.” He snorted. “I should have known better. After all, she'd always been difficult, so stubborn, and conceited.”

  “So what did you do?”

  “I tried to find out where she was. The whole town knew she'd planned to go to Florence, and I'd once read her diary. She'd written that she would do anything to get away from home, even pole dancing. Can you believe that?” He shook his head. “So it wasn't difficult. I started with the nightclubs, and bingo, there she was. I almost didn't recognize her, with that makeup and everything.”

  “And then?”

  “I waited until she got out of the club one night. Tried to talk to her. But she was totally unreasonable. Laughed like a hyena when she heard she'd inherited everything. Apparently, she hadn't known. The lawyer didn't know how to find her.”

  “Why didn't she leave right away? She didn't have to go on working at the club.”

  “She didn't want to return to the village. She said the memories were all bad, and she didn't feel like going back ever again in her whole life. I told her she could easily sell the place to me, after all, I loved it, but she only laughed again and said I had no money.” His face twisted. “And damn her, she was right. I had no chance.”

  “You could have asked for a loan.”

  “A loan?” Filippo stared at Garini. “That would have meant hard work for years. I had a right to that money! It wasn't fair that she should get everything. Our father never wanted it to be that way!”

  “I still don't see why she continued working at the club.”

  “I think she wanted some time to think about her options. She hated the lawyer, who was a close friend of our father. He had often told her to stop being so difficult. Besides, Rosetta had always been a sly one, taking her time about decisions. And until she knew what to do, she decided to stay at the club. And then, she refused to talk to me.” Filippo sighed. “That's when I decided to apply for a job there, too.”

  “Why?”

  “I needed money. And I wanted to see her and watch what she was doing. She was not going to get away with my inheritance! But we agreed to keep our relationship secret. She said I'd never been like a brother to her, and that was totally fine for me. After all, I didn't want to have a sister who worked at a nightclub.” He put on a righteous face. “But I watched her every move, and she knew that. In return, she kept taunting me whenever we were on our own and nobody could hear us.”

  “How did she taunt you?”

  “Oh, she mentioned my favorite places, like our best field with the view over the lake, and said she would sell it and build a huge supermarket there. Stuff like that. And then she would laugh in my face.” He shuddered. “She was evil.”

  “What about the night of the murder?”

  Filippo took a deep breath. “We'd met once again in the afternoon. I tried to talk sense into her, but she refused to listen. That night, after her break at ten o'clock, she walked past me on her way to the bathrooms. And as she went past, she murmured, ‘A huge, lovely supermark
et …’ I saw red when I heard that. I felt like following her and giving her a good, hard shove, but at that moment, another customer came up and ordered a drink. As soon as I'd gotten rid of him, I followed Rosetta.”

  “And then?”

  “I … I couldn't believe my eyes. She was in one of the secret rooms, with the door wide open. There was a man on the floor, knocked out. She was dragging him onto the bed as I stood in the door frame, completely speechless. She didn't see me.”

  “Who was the man?”

  Filippo shrugged. “At the time, I had no idea. I didn't really see his face. Later, I learned that he was one of our regulars. Made me wonder, though, because as a rule, he didn't drink much. He'd even asked for watered-down whiskey once.”

  “And then?” Garini prodded him.

  “When she finally had him on the bed, there was a moment when she had her back to me, and she was virtually poised above him. It seemed like an invitation. And at that moment, all my fury came to a head. I'd taken my knife with me without really thinking about it, and before I knew it, I had stuck it into her.” He looked at Garini, his eyes huge. “I … I didn't think it would end like this, but honestly, she didn't deserve any better! She sank down without a sound, and suddenly, I realized what I'd done. I wiped the handle of the knife, folded the guy's hands around it and got the hell out of there, locking the door with my key behind me.”

  Garini let out a long breath. Without that confession, it would have been a difficult matter to prove Lucio's innocence, in spite of all the evidence. As it was, he could release Lucio. How the Mantonis would celebrate! His spirit soared.

  “You see, I didn't really mean to do it.” Filippo spread out his hands. “It was a spur-of-the moment thing, and I promise it won't happen again.”

  “It definitely won't,” Sergio confirmed. “Because we won't let you get into contact with any knives for years to come.”

  Filippo stared at him. “But … you can't be so mean. It was a mistake, I told you. A … a misunderstanding!”