temptation in florence 04 - expected in death Read online

  Her lips trembled. “But it'll break my heart if you withdraw into that icy distance. You're really good at doing that, you know.”

  Garini closed his eyes and held her against his chest. “I won't withdraw. I promise. But nevertheless, this will be ugly.”

  III

  When they arrived at the family home on Via delle Pinzochere, the Mantonis had just assembled for dinner in Benedetta's kitchen. They were all present – Uncle Teo was sitting at his usual place at the table, his gray head bent over his folded hands. Benedetta was busy handing the steaming pasta plates to Leo who passed them on to the others. Emma sat next to her husband, Lucio, and talked to him in a low voice, while her siblings Ernesto and Annalisa had their red heads together, bickering over something on their smartphones. Everything looked as usual, but the atmosphere was strained, and the usual jokes and smiling faces were missing. Particularly Carlina's mother looked like a thundercloud with legs, glowering at everyone while pushing a strand of henna-red hair from her face. She stood with her back to the sideboard and looked up when Carlina and Garini came into the room. “I've not yet taken a seat,” she said. “Because I'm not staying if that Olga appears again.”

  Uncle Teo turned his head and gave Fabbiola a reproachful look. “Is it too much to ask for peace and quiet in this house? Why are you all so set against Olga?” His voice sounded strained.

  Carlina bit her lower lip and slid onto the chair next to him. Then she took his hand. “Uncle Teo . . .” Her voice faded. She looked up and met Garini's imperturbable gaze.

  “I urgently need to talk to Ugo.” Garini looked around the room, addressing them all. “Do you know how I can reach him?”

  Uncle Teo frowned. “If I recall correctly, Olga said he was out of town this afternoon. But she expected him later tonight. She said he might even be in time for dinner.”

  “Well, I hope not,” Fabbiola said. “He eats more than a horse, and he's too stupid for words.” She cocked her head to the side. “Yes, that's the right expression. So stupid that he doesn't even know how to talk. I wonder how Olga puts up with such an oaf for a son. Must be the genes.” She smiled to herself, obviously enjoying the comparison to her own clever children.

  Annalisa bent forward, her eyes glittering. “Why do you have to talk to Ugo? Did he do something wrong?”

  Garini looked at her, deliberating what to say. As a rule, the next of kin had to be informed first. However, Uncle Teo had been very close to Olga, too. And he couldn't get hold of Ugo until he showed up here at the house. As long as he managed to catch Ugo before anyone else told him, he could proceed. He scrutinized each of the faces in turn, wondering how they would react. When he replied, he picked his words with care. “No. Ugo didn't do anything wrong, but I have to break sad news to him. His mother fell from the San Niccolò Tower today. Olga is dead.”

  For an instant, nobody moved.

  Then Emma let out a whoop and clapped her hands. “This is perfect!”

  “Emma!” Carlina glowered at her cousin. “Can you please consider Uncle Teo's feelings?” She pressed her great-uncle's hand and tried to read his face, but he hunched his shoulders forward and pressed his chin against his chest, closing himself off from the family.

  “I am considering Uncle Teo's feelings,” Emma said. “He wouldn't have been happy with that harpy for long.”

  “She's right, Carlina.” Fabbiola came forward and briefly put a hand on Uncle Teo's shoulder as she went past him to her usual chair. When she dropped onto it with a relieved smile, she said: “Now we can be comfortable again.”

  “I'm afraid not.” Garini's voice cut in. “This is a murder investigation, and I need to know where you spent the day.” He looked at his wrist watch. “My assistant Piedro should be here any moment now, so we can soon start taking your statements.” Where is the boy?

  “I've been home all day,” Fabbiola took her napkin and spread it on her lap. “Tell him to note that down. Can we eat now?”

  “Yes, let's eat first,” Benedetta said. “The pasta will get cold.”

  Garini sighed and shook his head, not knowing if he should be exasperated or relieved that they were taking it so easily. “It seems we don't have much choice.”

  When Piedro finally appeared, dinner was over.

  “Where have you been?” Garini asked so low that only Piedro could hear him.

  Piedro colored. “Sofia still had a few questions.”

  Garini lifted an eyebrow.

  “Some people are not used to dealing with bodies like the Mantonis.” Piedro looked sullen. “I first had to reassure her.”

  Yeah, sure. Garini decided not to pursue the matter. “Let's take the statements of the Mantoni family now. I hope that Ugo, the victim's son, will come later in the evening. It seems he was expected.”

  Piedro nodded and took out the tape recorder. “All right.”

  It soon became evident that they were not going to help much. Benedetta, Emma, Lucio, and Carlina had been at work. Uncle Teo, Fabbiola, and Leo had been at home, but in different apartments. Ernesto and Annalisa had been first at school or college and later at home. A normal day and normal proceedings – or so it seemed. Somewhere, Garini sensed a furtiveness, something that was not quite right, but he couldn't put his finger on it, and the more he thought about it, the more elusive it became.

  When all the statements had been taken, Fabbiola leaned back in her chair and pulled her current knitting from her knitting bag. “Finally, we are allowed to relax.” She lifted her knitting from the bag and stared at it. “Why, I don't believe that!”

  Everybody stopped talking and looked at her.

  “One of my knitting needles has disappeared.” With both hands, she held up a lopsided piece of fabric.

  Garini closed his eyes. He didn't want to hear more.

  “It probably just slipped out.” Carlina bent forward and took the bag from her mother. “Let me have a look.” She started to rummage around the bag.

  “That's really annoying.” Fabbiola frowned. “Yesterday, I started fashionable panties for Carlina's shop, and it was almost done.”

  “That was quick work,” Emma said.

  “Depends on the size of the panties,” Annalisa said. “If it was a thong, it wouldn't take long.”

  Fabbiola stared at her niece. “Of course it wasn't a thong, Annalisa. A thong is good for nothing. My panties will keep you warm. It had a very pretty edge, and I wanted to show it to Carlina tonight.”

  Carlina shook her head and dropped the bag. “The needle isn't there, Mama. Could you have dropped it somewhere else?”

  “No, I don't think so. I--”

  The door flew open and Ugo rolled in like an avalanche. “Buona sera.”

  The family fell silent and stared at him.

  Uncle Teo got up slowly. He was leaning heavily on the table and took a few faltering steps forward.

  He aged ten years tonight. Garini went to him and supported his arm.

  Uncle Teo didn't seem to notice. “Ugo, my son . . .”

  Fabbiola hissed in her breath.

  Ugo looked around. “Where's my mother?”

  Garini bent forward and pulled out a chair. “Please sit down, Ugo.”

  Ugo buried the chair beneath his bulk. “What's up? Why do you all look as if someone died?”

  Carlina gulped audibly.

  “I'm afraid your mother died today.” Garini said with his most neutral voice. Experience had taught him that bad news was best delivered at once and not drawn out.

  Ugo puckered his lips, then slowly shook his head. “I don't believe that. She was fine yesterday.”

  “I'm afraid it's true. She fell from the San Niccolò Tower.”

  Ugo stared at him. “What tower?”

  “The San Niccolò Tower. On Piazza Poggi, in the Oltrarno area.”

  Again, Ugo shook his head. “Never heard of it. She wouldn't go there.”

  “What if someone asked her to go there for a meeting?”

&nb
sp; He shrugged his massive shoulders. “She wouldn't go. My mother set meetings. She didn't go to them unless she had organized them herself.”

  How very true. Garini didn't avert his gaze for one minute from Ugo. He was obviously in denial, which made it a bit easier for the moment. However, Garini didn't want to be anywhere close when reality hit him.

  Ugo returned Garini's gaze with a stoic expression in his eyes. “If she's dead, then she was killed.”

  Fabbiola sat up straight. “Why would you think so?”

  Ugo looked around the room, his round face devoid of emotion. “Everybody hated her. She was hard to love.”

  “You can say that again.” Emma tapped her red fingernails on the table. “But that doesn't mean that someone shoved her over the edge. Maybe she fell. It could have been an accident.”

  “No.” Garini shook his head. “You can't fall from that tower by mistake. There's an iron bar that stops you from climbing or sitting on the stones.”

  “Then she was killed.” Ugo shuddered.

  “She could also have committed suicide,” Garini said, to test the waters.

  Several people snorted at once. “Olga? Suicide? Never.” That was Fabbiola. “She was way too proud and would never even have considered for even one single minute to deprive the world of her precious self.”

  Carlina gave her a scandalized look. “Mama, please!”

  Ugo looked at Fabbiola. “You hated her. You always did. I'm sure you killed her.” He got up, dwarfing the kitchen. All at once, tears rolled down his cheeks. With one lunge, he threw his massive body across the table and placed his ham-like fists around Fabbiola's neck.

  “Stand back!” Garini's voice came out like a whip. “Don't touch her!”

  Ugo didn't react.

  Garini jumped at his back, pulled back one arm and twisted it up until Ugo let go of Fabbiola. “Promise to leave her alone, or I'll put you in handcuffs.”

  Ugo growled. “You should put her in handcuffs. She's a killer.”

  Garini winced, wondering if Ugo was right. “Promise me that you'll stay in control now.”

  Ugo took a deep breath and averted his gaze from Fabbiola. “All right.”

  Garini dropped Ugo's arm and took a step back, never taking his gaze from the huge man. He seemed to be back in control now, but who knew how long this would last.

  Fabbiola touched her neck with one hand and stared at him with all the haughtiness of an insulted queen. “I should bring charges against you,” she said. “But no doubt you're beside yourself with grief, so I'll be lenient.”

  Emma sat up straight. “Gosh, have you gone crazy, Aunt Fabbiola? This huge oaf here attacks you, and all you say is that you'll be lenient? I don't believe it! He should be behind bars. Who knows what he'll do next?”

  Ugo turned to her in slow motion.

  She faced him with a condescending look. “And you needn't look like a bull, because I won't be intimidated! You've got more muscle than brain and--”

  “That will do, Emma.” Garini interrupted her and turned to Ugo. “The police still need your statement, Ugo. Maybe we should go to another room and--”

  Ugo interrupted him by holding up one hand. “What do you want to know?”

  “The usual questions in such an investigation,” Garini replied. “Like where you spent the day, when you--.”

  “I--” The big man turned as red as the remaining tomato sauce on the plates. “I was out.”

  “Out? Where?” Garini frowned. Why was Ugo blushing so fiercely? What had he done that he couldn't admit?

  “Just out. Walking.” He pushed his chin forward.

  “It rained most of the day,” Garini said. “Are you asking us to accept that you walked around town aimlessly for most of the day while it was pouring? That's hard to believe.”

  Ugo stared at him, then slowly shook his head, his face blank. “I have just changed my mind. I won't tell you anything.”

  Someone gulped audibly.

  “Don't you wish to find the person who killed your mother?” Garini asked. Maybe Ugo is a bit mentally challenged. But does that make him more dangerous or less so?

  “You find the killer. It's got nothing to do with me.” He looked around the room, his eyes rolling. “Mama was never wanted here. I'm not wanted. I'm leaving.”

  Garini stepped into his way. “Don't leave town without telling me about your whereabouts. I'll need to interview you again.”

  Ugo grunted, stepped around him with surprising speed, and stumbled from the room, his steps so heavy that the floor seemed to shake.

  Half a minute later, they heard the downstairs door bang.

  “We should have offered him a room for the night.” Uncle Teo sounded as if he was speaking in a dream. “The poor boy, all on his own now.”

  “Hello?” Annalisa shook her red hair. “He just tried to strangle Aunt Fabbiola, didn't you see that? I'm so glad he's gone. But what about the keys? Olga gave him keys to the house, didn't she? He could be back at any given moment and murder us in our sleep.”

  They all looked at one another.

  “You'd best secure the door downstairs with bolts tonight and change the lock tomorrow,” Garini said.

  Fabbiola pressed her knitting against her chest with one hand while fingering her throat with the other. “Under no circumstances am I going to stay alone tonight. I'll sleep in your apartment, Carlina.”

  Carlina blinked. “But Stefano is already staying with me, Mama. His apartment is inundated; he can't go home.”

  “He can have my bed,” Fabbiola decreed. “That'll be a nasty surprise for Ugo when he returns.”

  “The boy just lost his mother.” Uncle Teo said. “I'd not have thought that you could be so devoid of feeling.” His whole body was shaking.

  Leo gave him a concerned look, then went forward and took his arm. “Let me accompany you downstairs, Teo. I'll stay with you tonight, if you wish.”

  Benedetta opened her mouth as if to protest but closed it again.

  Emma saw it, and in an uncharacteristically soft gesture, went to her mother and put her arms around her shoulders. “Do you want me to stay with you tonight, Mama, so you won't feel alone?”

  “Under no circumstances,” her husband said. “If you stay with Benedetta tonight, then I'll be staying, too. I won't leave you out of my sight until the locks to the house have been changed.”

  “Well, in that case, I'll move out,” Annalisa said. “This apartment will burst with people if both Emma and Lucio move in, and I prefer to live in comfort. Can I have your bed, Emma?” She shook her red hair and gave her sister a brilliant smile. “I've been dying to use your modern bath for ages. Do you mind if I use your bath salts?”

  “You will not stay all on your own in Emma's apartment while that lunatic is still free.” Benedetta shook her head with vehemence, her motherly instincts roused. She turned to her son, a pleading look on her face.

  Ernesto jumped up before she could even open her mouth. “Oh, no, don't ask me to stay with her.” He lifted both hands as if to ward off a blow. “She may be my sister, but she snores, and I can't stand that. I refuse to share a bed with her.”

  Annalisa got up in a flash. “I don't snore! How dare you say--”

  “Because I've heard it more than once. Did none of your lovers ever tell you so?” He grinned at her. “Probably too polite, eh?”

  Piedro looked from one to the other, a stunned expression on his face.

  Carlina collapsed in helpless giggles. “This is too funny. First, tragedy, and now, we're swapping beds as if that was all that mattered.”

  Garini looked at her and shook his head, a small smile hovering on his lips. Her sense of humor managed to throw him time and again.

  IV

  The next morning, Garini was in a bad mood. His back hurt from the unfamiliar bed, and he had a headache from Fabbiola's intense perfume that seemed to have seeped into every corner of her bedroom. Besides, he had missed Carlina, her tousled curls when s
he smiled at him to say good morning, her warm body in the crook of his arm. We really have to find an apartment soon. But with the new case, he would have no time to go house hunting. He grunted with displeasure and concentrated on his work. First, he sent out a press release, asking the public to help. Anyone who had seen anything suspicious in and around the San Niccolò Tower on Monday afternoon was asked to report to the police immediately. He made sure the request for information was not only printed but also passed on via the radio, television, and to several travel agents who organized bus tours that stopped at the Piazzale Michelangelo. Maybe someone had seen something after all, in spite of the drizzling rain. Then he managed to obtain a recent picture of Fabbiola and called for Piedro.

  “I've got an important task for you today, Piedro,” he said when his subordinate had shuffled into the room with his usual lack of enthusiasm.

  “On my own? Dad said I should stick to you.”

  Garini kept a tight reign on his temper. “I'm giving you an important task on your own. People are more likely to talk to you, knowing that you have no connection to the Mantoni family at all. I want you to walk around the area of the San Niccolò Tower and to question shop owners, passer-bys and restaurant workers if they have seen this person yesterday afternoon.”

  Piedro took the picture, then looked up. “Mrs. Mantoni-Ashley?” He suppressed a grin. “So it's true that we're suspecting her?”

  Garini made sure his face didn't betray the wariness he felt. “Yes.”

  “If you see anyone who recalls her, take all their data. Most of all, make sure you note the time when they saw Mrs. Mantoni-Ashley. Try to get them to remember as best as they can.”

  Piedro nodded. “All right.”

  Garini sighed. He had to follow the thread with the missing knitting needle, no matter if he wanted to or not.

  His next step was to find Ugo again and drag more information from him. In his opinion, this was far more urgent than checking on Fabbiola because Ugo was just as likely a suspect as Fabbiola, maybe more so because he was close family. Nothing so far had shown that the mother-son relationship had any dark side, but Garini hadn't yet looked carefully enough. Ugo's attack on Fabbiola last night had revealed that he could easily be driven to violence, and with his size, it would have been a piece of cake for him to throw his petite mother from the tower – maybe even by mistake. Instead of Piedro, he decided to take Alfonso with him. Alfonso had only started on the force a few months ago, but he was very tall and so muscled that he almost looked fat. If Ugo should become aggressive again, he would have to face someone who was in his weight class.