Elegant Death Read online

  Riva flashed him a dark look and left the room without bothering to say another word.

  “Phew.” Carlina wiped her brow. “What an insufferable guy. No wonder Enzo said he couldn't stand him.”

  Stefano stared into space.

  “What is it? Why do you look like that?”

  “Something's wrong about him. I feel it in my bones.”

  Carlina blinked.

  “Well, not my bones exactly. But you know how it is. If you've interviewed people for a long time, you start to develop a sort of instinct.”

  “And that instinct tells you he's the murderer?”

  He smiled. “Let's just say my instinct tells me to sniff around some more. Something's off with Marco Riva.”

  Carlina took a deep breath and looked at her watch. “It's almost six, and I'm exhausted. Good thing we only have one more person to talk to.” She smiled at Stefano. “I bet you anything he's the exact opposite of Riva.”

  “Why do you know that?”

  Carlina spread her hands wide. “Because he's a salesman. A salesman who doesn't talk is like a monkey that doesn't climb. These two have to go together.”

  He grinned. “All right. If he talks too much, I'll pretend to sneeze. You can then show what a caring wife you are and ask about my hay fever, so we can bring the conversation to a natural end.”

  “Hay fever in October?”

  “Well, make it an allergy.”

  “Against what?”

  “Against office intrigue, for example.”

  “Ha. You should have been sneezing ever since you entered the building if you really had an allergy to that.” Carlina laughed, and while she was still laughing, the door slowly opened.

  Chapter 5

  At first, she couldn't see anybody. Then her gaze dropped lower, and she realized a small man had entered the room. Franco di Rosa had the stature of a jockey. He wore one of the Camicie Di Silva shirts with impressive golden cuff links that probably added fifty percent to his total weight, and his hair was slicked back to his head like a helmet. With him, a heavy cloud of aftershave entered the room.

  Carlina gagged. She knew that scent. It was Uomo Dodici of Umberto Uno, the scent her former fiancé used. With a flash, she was thrown back six years, feeling oppressed by her fiancé's wealth, his expectations, his conventions. She closed her eyes for an instant. How lucky she was to have escaped that marriage. And how lucky she was to be here with her husband, the man who loved her as she was. She suppressed the urge to reach over and caress Stefano's hand. Instead, she gave herself an inner shake and tried to follow the conversation di Rosa had started.

  He had given them a firm handshake, had settled himself in one of the leather chairs after having been invited by Stefano to do so and now sat at the edge of his seat, a smile beaming all over his face, both hands on his knees. “I think it's exceedingly clever of our new CEO to get in a consultant right away and to work on improving the communication.” He made a fluttering move with his hands. “There's nothing like communication, I always say. If two people see eye to eye, they can move the world.”

  Stefano nodded and opened his mouth, but he couldn't get a word in edgewise.

  “So, you'd like to know about the communication structure in the company, is that right? Well, it was all focused on our former CEO, signora Di Silva, of course. She was a legend, even considering her brief life-time, and I wouldn't be surprised if sales would now start to explode. All the tabloids will be talking about her, and the name of Camicie Di Silva will be in everybody's mouth. Some people might say it's a bad thing, but I say no. Any kind of publicity is good, as long as people hear the brand name. Did you know it takes up to ten times for a brand name to register in a consumer's brain? Some say it takes seven, but I believe it's ten. After all, we're constantly battered with information by looking at screens, posters, leaflets, anything.” He spread his fluttering hands wide. “So it's all to the good, I say, and we've got to push forward right now and use the momentum. It's a tragic affair, a sad affair, a beautiful woman murdered, but we have to make the best of it, and if we don't sell anything now, why, then we'll never sell anything at all. Nobody ever had better publicity. It might have been even better if it had been just before the fashion show, but you can't have everything, I say, and I won't complain. Autumn is not such bad timing, after all, and early summer would have been worse because people only think about going to the shore and forget all about formal dressing in summer. Dreadful, I say. At least, there are some weddings to keep us floating, but if I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times, I'm always happy when the summer months are over.”

  Carlina opened her mouth and closed it again. What on earth . . . ?

  Franco di Rosa didn't notice. “And now we're here, sitting together, discussing how to continue with this incredible heritage this amazing woman left us, and I say, it's not an easy task, oh, no, it isn't an easy task at all.” He beamed at them. “But we'll persevere, and we'll make it, and then, the brand name will shine. I have every confidence in signor Ashley. After all, I know him better than most here because I was on the team when we developed the new material, and I have to tell you what a good job he did, an excellent job. It took us months, and it wasn't an easy task, but it was worth it because we managed to develop the finest material, durable, a delicious feeling on the skin, and easy to wash. Why, you don't even need to iron it at all, did you know that? It's a huge advantage, that material, and if I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times, we've got to hammer that knowledge into the heads of our customers, every day, repeat it all the time, until they can be woken up at night and be asked 'Who makes the best shirts in the world?', and they'll answer 'Camicie Di Silva' without even hesitating a second, without even waking up, I say!”

  Carlina started to feel dizzy.

  “Yes, communication is key,” Franco di Rosa continued without once drawing breath, “and you're so right to look into it. It's absolutely vital to share the right kind of information quickly and efficiently. You won't believe how often we got stuck because we didn't know that a certain shirt style wasn't available anymore. That's truly discouraging if you've worked for months to secure an account, you finally sign the deal, and then, when it comes to the finish line, the shirts you sold with so much sweat and effort are not available anymore. You start at zero, I say. Incredibly frustrating, and I, for once, can't blame my people if they run a little amok. After all, they've got their commission to think about, not to talk about the salesman ranking we do every year. The best sales man each year gets a considerable commission, the best bonus he made that year doubled, plus a two-week trip to an island. The hotel, of course, belongs to signora di Silva, so it's not a great cost for the company, and of course they can't take that trip during high season, but the B season is quite nice, and I know the guys just love it. I still can't understand why signora di Silva wanted to cancel that part of the prize and offer them a course at a shooting range instead. She had developed a passion for shooting these last months, and I say to everyone his hobby, or maybe I should say hers, making sure I'm not making any ladies unhappy.” He winked at Carlina. “But you also have to consider the communication effects of the prizes you give, and what does it look like if you offer shooting courses to your best salesmen? That's not the image you want to bring across, is it? Besides, she was already known as the Snow Queen, and I feel the shooting thing would have harmed her image.” He sighed. “But she was adamant. I'm glad I haven't told the guys about it yet – I knew it wouldn't enhance their motivation to sell, on the contrary. I'll talk about it to signor Ashley, no doubt he'll see reason, now that she's –” For the first time, he stumbled in his flow of words, then quickly caught himself. “She, so unfortunately, died.”

  Stefano reacted like a falcon that spotted a mouse. “No doubt you will miss her. How did you learn about her death?”

  Franco di Rosa lifted both hands. “Bad news always travels fast. Benito called me on Sunday morning. I had onl
y just gotten up, didn't think of anything bad, and then, out of the blue, like a bolt of lightning, came the news. I was absolutely speechless, couldn't take it in. I mean, it was so . . . unexpected.”

  “Was it really?” Carlina bent forward.

  “Why, yes. What on earth do you mean?” A nervous titter. “Do you think we expected her to be shot?”

  “From all I've heard she was extremely unpopular.”

  Franco di Rosa became a bit more reserved. “She certainly was a special lady, and it took courage and guts to stand up to her, but as a figurehead, she was hard to beat. My, what charisma she had! She entered a room, and all eyes turned to her. Everything will have to change now. I mean, I don't doubt signor Ashley is a good man, but it'll be difficult to be her successor. He's got his work cut out for him, and I, for one, don't want to be in his place.”

  Carlina decided to throw caution to the wind. The man talked so much, he wouldn't notice if she asked questions that didn't have any relation to company communications. “So you never felt bad about your job, never wanted to throw in the towel?”

  The sales manager jumped. “Who . . . who said so?”

  “I got the impression many people here in the company were only biding their time until they could leave.” Carlina tried a Sphinx-like smile.

  Franco di Rosa sat up straight. “The vultures! Just because of the bit of trouble I had a month ago, they're saying I'm wanting to leave, but that's unfair. I mean, of course I was on sick leave for seven weeks but that doesn't mean I don't have a zest for working anymore. I was exhausted and needed a rest, that's all. Now I'm back, and I'm willing to give my all.” He gave them a challenging look. “I'm in my prime, and I defy anyone to say differently!”

  Carlina almost expected him to flex his biceps.

  When they'd finally managed to bring this interview to an end, Carlina sank against the back of her chair with a sigh. “Phew. They should make a mix of di Rosa and that finance guy, Riva, then they'd both be bearable. I feel as if I've been mangled.”

  “But he gave us two very interesting bits of information,” Stefano said.

  “You mean the shooting range fascination and di Rosa's burnout.”

  “Yes. Enzo already told us he took up shooting as a favor to Dorotea. I wonder where that sudden passion came from.”

  “Maybe she felt powerful with a weapon in her hand.”

  “No doubt. Who doesn't? And we already know she was hungry for power.”

  Stefano wagged his head. “But she also played golf.”

  “Which is where you meet powerful people.”

  “True.”

  Carlina stretched. “It's late, and my head is in a whirl. Can we call it a day?”

  Stefano smiled. “I think we can combine pleasure with work now. Let's go upstairs and check out that fitness studio.”

  Carlina's eyes widened. “You mean we should work out? Now?”

  He grinned. “No need to panic, we'll do nothing of the kind. I'll pretend to be interested in the muscle building program and you can go get a massage.”

  She clapped her hands. “Sounds like a plan. I hope the masseur is an extremely suspect person, so I'll have to go back several times.”

  He shook his head. “You're not approaching this with the right frame of mind.”

  “But I am!” She grinned at him. “And later, we'll have dinner and compare notes.”

  “And then . . .” He took her in his arms. “Then we'll remember this is our honeymoon.”

  Carlina snuggled into his arms. “No complaints from me, commissario. But first, duty calls.”

  They only had to take the elevator upstairs to enter the Spa Di Silva. The logo was etched onto the double glass doors that swung open easily. Well-conditioned air with a hint of lemon perfume welcomed them in.

  The man behind the counter was dressed from top to toe in white and greeted them with a gleaming smile. Carlina wondered if it was the company's policy to get a special teeth whitener for all employees. She could very well imagine Dorotea taking things to such extremes. She'd have to ask Enzo about it. He would have access to the contracts. For an instant, she was overwhelmed by the sheer size of the Di Silva fortune and all it entailed. She doubted Enzo had realized all the ramifications, with his energy focused on the one question that might well take it all away from him – was he going to be found guilty of murder or not?

  “We're interested in an evening in the spa.” Stefano took out the vouchers and placed them onto the white counter in front of him. “Plus the full massage service.”

  “Certainly.”

  The man in white explained the special bracelet of the club that would give them access to everything, including the lockers, and booked them in for the massage. Carlina realized it was time to do the gossipy thing before he finished his routine.

  She leaned across the desk and gave him a timid smile. “We're new in town, and we were lucky to be given those vouchers. Is there anything else we should most definitely see while we're here?”

  “Well, there are many things to see in Milan,” he replied. “The Duomo is a must, of course. And no matter if you like shopping or not, you absolutely have to see the Galleria Vittoria Emmanuele. It is one of the world's oldest shopping malls. It dates back to 1867.”

  “Wow, that's impressive.” Carlina nodded. She knew it well and had once spent an afternoon in the magnificent glass and iron dome with its beautiful mosaics and marble floors, counting all the women who wore fur coats and carried little dogs. She'd come up with a grand total of seventeen in only two hours. “But we already went shopping today, and we're ready to relax.”

  “Then you've come to the right place.”

  “I'm just a bit nervous because someone said you'd had a murder here recently.” She opened her eyes wide and blinked at him. Did she look like a helpless female? She wasn't very good at impersonating one. From the corner of her eye, she could see Stefano's mouth twitch.

  “Oh, no, signora, we've never had a murder here.” The young man looked shocked.

  “But it had to do with this building, I'm sure of it. The owner was killed, only last weekend, wasn't she? The woman called Snow Queen? Wasn't it here?”

  His face grew grave. “It is true that signora Di Silva was killed last weekend, but it didn't happen here. She was shot in Florence.”

  Carlina clapped her hand in front of her mouth. “Oh, my. How terrible! But if you say it was in Florence . . . That's far away.” She bent forward. “Did you know her personally?”

  He nodded. “Of course I did. She was a regular at the spa.”

  “I'm so sorry. When did you see her last?” For a second, she was afraid the question had been too abrupt, but apparently, he was used to curious people who were not only inquisitive but also insensitive.

  He looked at his hands. “I saw her on Saturday. She came around eight and stayed until ten, which was very much her normal time.”

  “And nobody had any idea it was going to be her very last day. It's so sad. I bet everyone who got in touch with her that day felt bad about it.”

  “Certainly.”

  “Did she talk to many people? I've heard she'd been depressed and some people believe it was suicide. Did she seem like that to you?”

  He blinked. “Not at all. Who on earth said that? She was always the same, and I wouldn't believe for one second that she killed herself.”

  “So she was gay and carefree?”

  “Signora Di Silva was never gay and carefree. She was always very reticent, and she did her round without chatting with anyone.”

  “How very lonely.” Carlina gave an exaggerated shrug. “Well, you can never be sure, can you? Some people hide all their feelings underneath a glossy exterior.”

  He gave her a funny look. “If you'd ever met her, you wouldn't contemplate the idea of suicide for a single moment.”

  “Oh, well, maybe it was all gossip anyway. You never know what these people write, do you?”

  “Certainl
y not.” He pressed a button and opened the door that led to the sanctum of the sports club. “You can now go through and turn left at the end of the aisle, then you'll get to the spa area.”

  “Thank you.” She smiled at him and sailed through the door.

  From behind her, she heard Stefano mutter, “Sometimes, you make me afraid.”

  “That's exactly the way it should be.” She gave him a saucy grin. “How about testing that sauna he mentioned after you do the muscle thing and I've done the massage?”

  “Sounds good. I'll meet you there in say, half an hour?”

  “Fine.” Carlina went to the changing room and undressed, then swathed herself in a huge, fluffy towel that smelled of lavender. She slipped her feet into pristine white slippers, provided by the spa. If this should become a regular part of the investigation, I am fine with it. Instantly, she felt guilty. Her brother's arrest was imminent, and they were having fun at the spa. Did they really have the time for this? Shouldn't they be better off sitting somewhere, copying notes, comparing them, discussing possibilities? We'll do that later, she comforted herself. Every good horse needs a rest from time to time. Now relax and enjoy this brief respite. It'll be stressful soon enough.

  A male demigod appeared in front of her and blinded her with his broad smile. “Hi. You must be Caroline. You've booked a twenty minute back massage, right?”

  Carlina swallowed. This guy looked like Rambo, he was so packed with muscles. Emma would be in seventh heaven if she were here. I have to recommend her to come, after she's had the baby. Personally, she preferred men who weren't quite as beefy. Men like Stefano, with long legs and graceful movements. What if he has to sneeze while massaging me? He might accidentally break my spine. “Hi.” She cleared her throat. “Yes, I guess that's right.”

  His huge hand engulfed hers for a moment. “Perfect. My name is Patrizio. Come this way.”