Elegant Death Page 21

  Stefano looked at her. “Not anyone, Carlina. Yes, the circle of suspects has shifted, but it has become narrower.”

  Sergio bent forward, wheezing a bit. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, think about it. The GPS device was hidden in her trousers. Who had access to them?”

  Carlina caught her breath. Enzo.

  Stefano looked at her. “Besides Enzo, who obviously didn't need it.”

  She cleared her throat. “The dry cleaners.”

  Cervi frowned. “Why do you think she gave it to the dry cleaners? She might just have put the stuff into her washing machine.”

  “No.” Carlina shook her head. “I happened to notice the fabric. It was a heavy silk suit, made of Silk Dupioni, and you don't throw that kind of material into the washing machine.”

  Stefano suppressed a smile and looked at his boss with a lift of his eyebrow. He didn't have to say that female knowledge had already helped them along.

  Sergio frowned. “I just had an idea. Let me call the station.” He lumbered to his feet and left the room.

  “What on earth?” Cervi stared after him.

  “I assume it's got something to do with the GPS device,” Stefano turned to Carlina “Sergio is a bit of a technology geek.”

  “I see.” Carlina looked at Cervi, wondering how to get him to share the bits of information they didn't have. Maybe it was best if she told him everything they knew, to show him her willingness to put all facts onto the table. She was just about to open her mouth when Stefano started to give his boss a short summary of the past days. Something warm went through her. She relished being on the same wavelength as her husband and leaned back to listen to him in silence, happy to give him the lead for a moment. Truth be told, she still felt shaken by all the events of the day. It was a good thing she hadn't chosen the same job as Stefano. It was much more relaxing to deal with laces and bras the whole day.

  Stefano had just finished when Sergio came back into the room. They all looked at him and he nodded back. “I asked for a bit more information about that GPS device,” he said, “because I wondered how it can have been so small. Here are the facts. It was a self-made model with a battery that held out for approximately two days, so it must have been added to her clothes shortly before her death.” He took a deep breath. “But what's even more important, it could cover a distance of thirty kilometers at most.”

  Carlina sat up. “But Florence is three hundred kilometers away.”

  They all looked at each other.

  Stefano bent forward. “This means the murderer must have known about her trip to Florence after all. He must also have known where she would land, and he must have waited for her there, to follow her to the wedding. Add that knowledge to the fact that he could slip something into the seam of her trousers, and we've got –“

  “Someone who knew her extremely well.” Carlina jumped up. “And now I know what bothered me the whole time! Why should someone try to turn Enzo into the scapegoat?” She turned to Stefano. “Remember when we talked about the motives for murder? The first two motives I mentioned? Money and love. And at the time, I said that both of these motives only lead us to Enzo, but I was wrong. They also apply to her ex-lover.”

  Cervi stared at her. “Her ex-lover?”

  “Yes!” Carlina clapped her hands. “Jealousy! He was jealous!”

  “But Enzo had been going out with Dorotea for several months already,” Stefano said. “Why didn't he strike sooner?”

  Carlina shrugged. “It took time to plan the murder and to build that device. And it would have been too obvious if it had happened right away.”

  Sergio stared at her. “You're saying she was only killed because the ex-lover was jealous? But who's her ex-lover?”

  Carlina shrugged. “I don't know.”

  “Maybe he doesn't exist.” Cervi's voice sounded like acid. “Who says she had a lover before she was with your brother? Maybe she'd been single for a longer stretch of time.”

  Carlina shook her head. “I don't think so. But we can ask Enzo.” She turned to the door.

  Stefano held out his hand. “Hold on a second. Do you remember what the lawyer said when he came to talk to us in Florence? He mentioned Dorotea had a habit of making strange wills. He also said the previous will hadn't been much better. Maybe that will was in favor of her lover? And her lover wasn't a businessman, in any way qualified to take over the company while Enzo had at least a bit of knowledge about the industry?”

  “Flights of fancy.” Cervi shook his head. “There's not the slightest scrap of evidence in all you say. That's what we get when we talk to amateurs. We should look at the evidence and evidence alone.”

  “But the evidence isn't getting us anywhere!” Carlina's voice rose. “If we eliminate everyone who has an alibi, we are left with Liza, and I utterly refuse to believe she could have strangled a man.”

  “She didn't strangle him; that much is sure.” Sergio's voice was calm. “The murderer had large and strong hands. The doctor said so right away when he came to see the body. So we can count her out.”

  “Then Dorotea must have met her ex-lover after the director's meeting on Friday night,” Carlina said. “And when he spent the night with her, he slipped the GPS device into her trousers.”

  “Sheer conjecture.” Cervi crossed his arms and gave Carlina a baleful look. “We're wasting our time.”

  Stefano ignored him. “To summarize: The murderer had big hands. He knew she would fly to Florence, and he could only have learned this between Friday at lunch time and Saturday before her takeoff. He had enough technical knowledge to create a clever GPS device, and he had prepared it in advance. He had the means to fix the GPS device to her trousers without her noticing anything.”

  “Which points to them spending the night together,” Carlina said. “She was double-crossing Enzo! She told him she'd spent the night at home, working!” Indignation filled her. “I never liked her!”

  Stefano frowned. “Actually, I'd like to concentrate on another aspect: What if the motive wasn't only jealousy? What if it was also the money? Dorotea might have made a will in his favor, and she might have taunted him with it. We know she delighted in doing so. Maybe he thought she hadn't yet made a new will. Remember Belfiore, who said she usually took six months until the next change? She only took that rash decision to change her will because of the fight with Enzo. We have to find out who profited from the will before Enzo came into the picture.” He shook his head. “I can't believe we didn't look into that right away, particularly after the offices and computer systems of Belfiore were burgled.”

  “It's because Enzo had been going out with Dorotea for several months,” Carlina said. “And the place was littered with people who hated her right now. We didn't look that far into the past.”

  Sergio took a deep breath. “The IT experts are already on it, trying to resurrect the wrecked-up files from Belfiore's office.”

  “What about the backup?” Carlina asked.

  “Even those files were damaged. Belfiore kept them on the same server.” He sighed and got up. “I think I'll get on them, try to make them hurry up. It seems they're holding the solution in their hands.”

  Cervi got up, too. “I'll come with you.” He turned a dark look toward Carlina. “I suggest you drop this case and go on your honeymoon. It's pretty evident you can't help at all.”

  Carlina swallowed her reply, but as soon as Cervi had left the room, she turned to Stefano, her cheeks hot and fists balled.

  He bent forward and gave her a quick kiss. “I know. Don't say anything. When working with Cervi, you have to be permeable – just let it flow through you and right out again.”

  “Are you able to do that?”

  He gave her a wry smile. “Not always.” He held out his hand. “Come on. I'm starving. Let's get a bit of distance and some food. We can't do anything until the IT guys have done their research.”

  “Oh, all right.” Carlina looked around. “Where's my co
at?”

  “Your coat?”

  “Yes. I had it this morning.”

  “You didn't have it with you when we came downstairs from the sports studio at lunchtime.”

  “Darn, you're right. I snatched my stuff away because Aunt Violetta had started that fight. I must have left it in my locker. Let me just run upstairs and get it, all right?”

  He nodded. “I'll go to the bathroom in the meantime. Meet you at the elevator?”

  “Yes.” She gave him a quick kiss and ran upstairs. The fitness club was still open but quiet. Most people went clubbing on Friday nights. Instead, Monday was the most important day of the week at the fitness studio, when people tried to lose the pounds they'd accumulated over the weekend. She slipped into the changing room and went to the locker that had held her things, but when she opened the door, it was empty. She frowned and went back to the reception. There was nobody, but just as she was looking for a bell somewhere, Patrizio came around the corner. She suppressed a nervous twinge and hoped he wouldn't think of their last encounter and Aunt Violetta's job offer. “Oh, Patrizio, I'm glad you're still here.” Sort of. She would have preferred someone who hadn't been insulted a few hours earlier.

  “Buonasera.” He seemed to have found his equilibrium again. “What can I do for you?”

  “I forgot my coat in my locker, but it's not there anymore. Did you by any chance see it? It's dark blue.”

  He nodded. “Yes, someone brought it here. We've got a shelf for lost and found stuff.” He bent turned to the side, opened a door and pulled out a coat. “Is this it?”

  “Oh, yes, thank you so much!” Carlina took the coat with a smile of thanks. She was so grateful for his professional reaction to Aunt Violetta's outrageous job offer, that she added in a chatty tone, “Does it happen often that people forget their things?”

  He grinned. “All the time. And if they don't lose their things, they manage to lose the keys to the locker. Thank God we have a master key, so we can open them all.”

  Carlina's gaze fell onto his hands. She froze in the middle of her movement, hearing Stefano's voice once again. “Big hands. Access to Dorotea's trousers. Ex-lover.” Ex-lover?

  Chapter 11

  She jumped back. “Right. Thank . . . thank you. I'll be seeing you.” She turned on her heels and rushed to the glass door, but before she could reach it, he was beside her.

  “Hold on a second.” His hand grabbed her neck like a vise. “I think we need to do something with that neck.”

  Carlina swallowed. “No, no, it's fine.” She tried to twist out of his grasp, but he held her as if she were a kitten.

  With one move of his massive biceps, she was flung around, into the direction of the massage rooms. “We'll have that problem settled in a minute.”

  Carlina opened her mouth to scream, but the pressure of his fingers increased to such an extent that her head started to swim and her knees buckled. She did manage to make a sound, but it was a weak croak, barely loud enough to reach her own ears.

  In no time at all, they were in the scented massage room. Had she ever thought the atmosphere in here relaxing? It was cloying, suffocating, scary. He flung her half-across the low massage bed, and she fell over, gasping for breath. Gain time! Distract him!

  Gathering every ounce of strength, she turned around and faced him. It took all her concentration to schedule her face into a mask of fury instead of fear. “What on earth is the matter with you? I'm truly sorry my Aunt Violetta insulted you, but it's got nothing to do with me!”

  For an instant, he looked nonplussed. “Who's Aunt Violetta?”

  “The old lady in the wheelchair,” Carlina said. Go, girl! Pretend you know nothing at all, so he'll apologize and let you go. She rubbed her neck. “I can tell you the family is less than enthusiastic about her crazy business venture, and if it makes you feel better, I apologize for her behavior.” She slipped from the bed and steadied herself with a hand when the room started to wheel. It took a moment until she felt steady enough to let go of her support, then she took a tottering step toward the door. “I do understand how insulted you feel by her, being well-trained and all, and in spite of that, being taken for a gigolo.” She made an airy move with her hand. “So I won't mention this to the management.” She'd almost reached the door. “I'll see you around, Patrizio.”

  For a man of his bulk, he was light on his feet. Without a sound, he was beside her. This time, he grabbed her by the upper arms, pressed them together and lifted her like a rag doll. It was a horrid sensation, and when he threw her back onto the massage table, every bone in her body rattled. A piercing pain shot through her lower spine. “Are you crazy?” She tried to sound loud and angry, but the words came out on a wheezing breath. “You're breaking my back.”

  “Possibly.” He eyed her. “Now stop pretending. I saw it in your eyes. You know, don't you?”

  Carlina opened her eyes wide. “Know what?” At the same moment, she remembered Stefano's words. How often had he told her she was no good at lying? A sharp pang of longing went through her. Stefano. Had he missed her already? Was he coming to look for her? Time. You need to gain time.

  She cleared her throat. “Look, it's obvious something has upset you, but whatever it is, it's got nothing to do with me. I suggest you talk it over with someone you trust.”

  A sneer marred his handsome face. “Trust. Do you really think I should trust your artless prattle? I know exactly what you're thinking.”

  Artless prattle. Hello? Carlina drew herself up. “Oh, yeah? So tell me what I'm thinking.” She glared at him, but out of the corner of her eye, she looked for something she could use as a weapon. The scented candle in the corner? No good. Maybe the statue of the Buddha next to it? If it was made of some heavy material, it might work.

  “You're looking for a weapon, but I can tell you it's useless.”

  Carlina gasped. Damn. She hunched her shoulders. Obviously, she was even more transparent than she'd thought. “Oh, really?” She rallied. “And why should I look for a weapon?”

  He gave her a wolfish smile. “Possibly because I killed Dorotea and that stupid lawyer, and you know it.”

  Oh, no. No, no, no. She didn't want to hear it. Again, she slid from the bed and stretched out a hand with a smile that was full of compassion. At least she hoped it looked like it. “You've got a persecution complex. I'm so sorry. You really need to talk to a psychologist. All the stress in the last weeks has gone to your head.” It's not a persecution complex, you idiot. That's something completely different. Carlina ignored her inner voice. This was no time to waste on finicky details.

  “Stop prattling.” He stood like a tree before her, his hands balled into fists.

  “I am not prattling!” She raised her voice. Maybe someone would hear. “The gall of you! So you killed Dorotea, eh? Well, I don't believe it, and I think you need to get yourself treated, preferably sooner than later.”

  His face turned red. “You don't believe I killed her? You think I don't have the guts? That I'm lacking the intelligence? Well, I'll show you!”

  She took a step back and crossed her arms. If he charged at her, she could curl into a ball and hide beneath the massage bed. At least for a nano-second or so, before he pulled her out again. “So tell me,” she challenged. “Why should you kill her? You gave her a massage once or twice a week. Don't tell me that made you hate her.”

  “I didn't only give her a massage once or twice a week.” He was yelling now. “I was her partner! That's what she said! Her partner! She planned to give the lead of the studio to me, and what's more, she left all her money to me.”

  “Ha. And I guess she told you so?” Carlina sidled closer to the Buddha. What a sickly smile that thing had. “She told you just like that, one night, among the scented candles? 'My dear, I love you so much, and you'll have all my fortune one day.'” Her fear made her throw all caution overboard. “Is that how it happened? You can tell that to my Aunt Violetta!”

  “No, that's not
how it happened!” A vein throbbed at his neck. “She talked in her sleep.”

  Oh, Madonna, he's telling me the literal truth. Carlina felt sick, but tried to rally her forces. “And then she told you she'd go to the wedding in Florence, including the address and all, so you could conveniently shoot her?”

  “Of course she didn't! I fixed a GPS device to the seam of her trousers.”

  “And she never noticed? A big thing like that?” Carlina sneered at him.

  “It was super small.” He lifted his chin. “Made to order. A prototype.”

  “Ah. And I guess you told the technicians it was to track down your ex-lover, so you could shoot her?”

  “I told them it was to track my rat.”

  “Your rat?” Carlina blinked.

  “Yes. GPS devices already exist for dogs and cats, but they were too large for my purpose.” He seemed proud of his achievement.

  Carlina shook with nerves and fear and anger. Keep him talking! “If everyone went around killing their ex-lovers, we'd have quite a fun time of it. Were you never left by a lover before?”

  His face darkened. “Indeed I was, but she liked to hurt. When she told me, on that Saturday morning, that she would create a position for a personal masseur with a fabulous salary but that he would have to fly with her everywhere, I decided she had to go. Until then, I'd prepared everything, not even sure if I would put my plans into action. But that triggered it.” He frowned. “You don't have to look at me like that. She brought it on herself.”

  Carlina shivered. “And what about the lawyer?”

  “He was just a tool,” Patrizio made a disdainful move with his hand. “And I admit I forgot about him at first. It was a real shock when I heard that the police had come to Milan to sniff around instead of being satisfied with the obvious culprit. I waited for ages during that wedding, until he was finally far enough from her and had nobody beside him. I was really sure he would be arrested right away, because I'd taken such good care to let every clue point in his direction.”