Charmer's Death (Temptation in Florence Book 2) (19 page)

BOOK: Charmer's Death (Temptation in Florence Book 2)
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Her mother hissed in her breath.

Stefano's face remained impassive. “Go on.”

“She thought I had been the last to see Trevor alive. She wanted to hear all about it. Then she asked me about Trevor's last lover. She wanted to find her and take her revenge on her because she was convinced that she had killed Trevor.”


Annalisa?” Fabbiola took a step forward. “How dare she insinuate that my dear niece would so such a thing?”

Carlina winced.

“I knew you lied to me.” Suzanne fixed Carlina with a dark stare. “You slimy, little--”


That's enough,” Garini cut in. “Please continue, Carlina.”


I . . . I wanted to distract her, so I told her that the police were looking for her already and suspected her of being the murderer. I told her to run.”

Enrique whistled. “Quick thinking.”

“You took an appalling risk.” Stefano's voice was grim.


I don't understand.” Fabbiola looked at her daughter. “How come you know her? She's French, isn't she?” It sounded as if no self-respecting Italian would ever know a French citizen.


It may have been a risk, but it worked.” Carlina looked at Garini. “She doubled over laughing.”


Laughing?” Fabbiola echoed in disbelief.


Laughing.” Ricciarda stared at Suzanne as if she she had grown another arm.


That's when I jumped at her to get the gun.”

Garini closed his eyes for an instant.

“Wow.” Enrique clapped his hands. “I'm impressed.”


There was a . . . a struggle.” Carlina looked at the marks on her hand. “But I managed to get the gun in the end. That's when she said it wasn't loaded. She came toward me, to get it, and that's when I . . . when I shot her.” She bit her lips. “It was self-defense.”

Garini looked at her with an expression she had never seen before.

“It's all lies!” Suzanne said with a hiss. “I was in her store to buy a new bra. And suddenly, she starts to scream at me. She locks the door, and I'm so scared, I take out my gun, and then she fights me for it, and attacks me. I'm going to sue her!”


You!” Fabbiola planted her feet wide apart, an inch from Suzanne's hip on the floor, and hitched the cushion underneath her arm higher. “Don't you dare to repeat this filth ever again. My daughter would never attack anybody. Never!”

Garini switched off the tape recorder. “Not unless she feels it's necessary,” he said so low only Carlina could hear.

“You can check my police records,” Suzanne said. “There is nothing against me. Nothing at all. You will find that I, Suzanne Morin, have led a blameless life.”

Garini whipped around and stared at her. “What did you say your name was?”

Suzanne drew herself up. “I'm Suzanne Morin. If you took off these absolutely unnecessary manacles, I could show you my . . . “ she hesitated and added in French, “. . . my carte d'identité.”

At this instant, a thin man with a black bag hurried through the door. He looked around, nodded at Garini, and dropped to his knees beside Suzanne.

“Who is this man?” Fabbiola's voice quivered with outrage.


The doctor.” Garini didn't take his eyes of Carlina.


Why is he treating a criminal who tried to kill my daughter? I have no patience with such luxury.” She gave a sniff full of contempt. “It is only a scratch anyway.”

Garini's lips twisted. “Dottore?” he asked. “What do you say?”

“The lady is right.” The doctor was already busy binding up the wound. “The bullet only grazed her leg. It'll soon be a distant memory.”

Carlina felt a wave of relief, coupled with fatigue, sweeping over her. She swayed and grabbed the cash register to steady herself.

Suzanne folded her arms in front of her chest. “A scratch! It's not a scratch! She marked me for life!” She pointed at Carlina. “This woman tried to kill me, and you all pretend it was me! You're all in cahoots with each other! It's the Mafia. This is only a farce.” Her voice got louder every second. “I need an attorney. A French attorney! I insist!”

Piedro burst through the door, his gelled hair standing up in spikes. “Here I am, Commissario,” he informed his boss with a grand air, as if they had been waiting for him for ages. His gaze fell onto the attractive woman on the floor, and his eyes widened. “Golly.”

Garini nodded at his subordinate, then addressed Suzanne. “This is my assistant Piedro Cervi. A police car is waiting for you outside, to take you to the police station, where you can wait for the attorney of your choice. You can then prepare your line of defense with him. My assistant Piedro Cervi will then take your statement, and I'll join you later.”

Piedro visibly grew. He squared his shoulders and helped Suzanne up from the floor. Together with Garini, he escorted her to the waiting police car.

His departure broke up the group that had watched everything as if in trance.

Enrique gave Ricciarda's raven beauty another wistful glance, then waved and said he had to return to the Café.

“I'm glad she has gone.” Fabbiola shook her head. “She made me nervous, that one.”

Ricciarda took a deep breath. “Boy, do I agree. This was an exciting morning.”

Garini came back with long steps. “Where is Annalisa?”

Carlina's eyes widened. “Do you think she's in danger?”

“No.” His voice was curt. “But she needs to take your place at Temptation.”


My place? At Temptation? Why, in God's name? Yesterday, you almost tore me to shreds for allowing her to work here, and today, you ask me where she is.” All at once, things seemed too big to take in. She blinked.

He looked at her and narrowed his eyes. “Today, things are different.” He grabbed her arm and led her back to the store room where he took one of the foldable chairs from the wall. “Sit down and call her. She has to come here. I need you with me.”

Carlina felt too rattled to resist. She dialed Annalisa's number, cut short her apologies for not having appeared at work in time, and asked her to come to Temptation to help immediately without divulging any background information.

Annalisa promised to come within the next fifteen minutes.

Fabbiola suddenly remembered that she urgently needed to buy Padano Grano cheese for lunch by order of her sister Benedetta and rushed from the store with an airy wave of the cushion.

The doorbell rang, and a pair of giggling girls walked in. Ricciarda went to the front of the store to deal with them.

Carlina leaned her head against the shelf behind her, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.


Don't you ever do this to me again.” Stefano's voice was low, but it had a harsh edge.

Her eyes flew open. “What do you mean?”

“Getting yourself almost killed.” He bent forward and took her chin in his hands. His light eyes bore into hers. “I've never been so scared in my life.”

His fingers felt warm and firm, and the expression on his usually so imperturbable face warmed her deep inside. “I didn't do it on purpose, Garini.”

“I know.” He shook his head as if he still couldn't believe it.


Where are you taking me now?”


Home.” His mouth was grim. “Your home, that is.”


That's not necessary. Give me another five minutes, and I'll be fine again.”


It's very necessary. I told your great-uncle that he could help me by shadowing Leopold Morin.”


Who?” Carlina looked puzzled.


The French tourist who fainted on top of Trevor Accanto.”

She got there with lightning speed. “Morin?” Her hand crept to her cheek in dismay. “You mean they're related?”

“It's possible. What if they got divorced because Suzanne couldn't get over Trevor and Leopold Morin decided to take his revenge? Alternatively, she could be his sister, and he feels that Trevor had to be punished for making a wreck out of her.”

Carlina's head whirled. “It's all a bit much for one morning. But I've never heard of a murderer who faints on top of his victim.”

His mouth twisted. “You don't know Leopold Morin. He's a persnickety man. I wouldn't put it past him to do the deed and then faint in horror.”


What about the nylons? How did he get them?”

Garini shook his head. “I don't know. We'll figure it out later. But first, I need to warn your Uncle Teo and take him off the case.”

“So that's why he was so busy these last days and looked like Santa Claus with a secret.” Carlina got up. “I thought he had figured out a new way to fold money for the Christmas gifts.”


Into kangaroos?” he asked.

Carlina gave him a sharp glance. “Are you making fun of my family?”

He gave her one of his rare smiles. “I'd never dare.”

But when they walked into Benedetta's kitchen, the one place where they could be sure to find all the family information they needed, any lingering trace of amusement dropped from his face. “What on earth--?”

Leopold Morin was sitting at Benedetta's kitchen table, right next to Uncle Teo.

They looked up at the same time, tears running down both their faces.

“Why are you crying?” Carlina darted forward. Something sharp pricked her eyes. She blinked and recognized the mountain of brown, paper-thin peels in front of the two men and the glistening pieces of white onion in the bowl between them.


They're cutting onions together.” Garini's mouth was grim. “What a charming family picture.” His voice was acid.

Uncle Teo ducked his head.

Benedetta peered around the door of a cupboard where she had rummaged around. “Ah, the Commissario, and Carlina! Are you staying for lunch? Do you know Leo?” She waved at the two men. “He's French, but his Italian is beautiful.” She kissed her fingertips. “So impressive.”

Carlina's gaze darted from one to the other.

Leopold Morin was shifting on his chair like a five-year-old with a bad conscience.

Uncle Teo wiped away his tears, winked at Carlina, and got up. “Listen, Commissario, I need to talk to you.”

He took Stefano by the arm and pulled him out of the room.

Benedetta lifted her eyebrows and looked at Carlina. “What's going on?”

“Nothing.” Carlina followed the men and closed the door behind her.


He was lonely,” Uncle Teo was in the middle of a voluble explanation, both hands twirling in front of his chest. “And me, I know what it's like to be lonely. So we sort of . . . talked.”


I told you to keep your distance, Signor Mantoni!” Garini's voice was glacial.


Well, yes, I know.” Uncle Teo moved his head from side to side as if considering the idea. “And I admit that the first contact wasn't voluntary. I . . . well, I bumped into him.”

Stefano didn't say anything, but his silence was intimidating enough. It swirled around him like a black cloud.

“And we . . . we started to talk, and then I realized what a nice man he was.” Uncle Teo beamed at him.

Garini pressed his lips together.

“You can trust me, Commissario.” Uncle Teo nodded to himself. “I've been around for almost eight decades, and I know people. Leo would never hurt a fly. Never.”

Stefano's face didn't twitch a muscle. “Your harmless Leo was found on top of the victim in a dead faint.”

“Yes, he told me so.” Uncle Teo wrinkled his nose. “A bit disgusting, especially for him. He easily finds things disgusting, you know, and--”

Garini interrupted him, “And this morning, a Suzanne Morin threatened Carlina with a gun at Temptation.”

Uncle Teo turned his head in surprise and peered at Carlina. “Oh, my. Are you all right, Carlina?”


Yes, I am, Uncle Teo,” Carlina came closer. “But I really think you should have obeyed the Commissario. It could be dangerous, you know.”


Nonsense.” Uncle Teo drew himself up, and before they could stop him, he turned on his heels, burst through the door into the kitchen and launched himself at his new friend. “I say, Leo, is it possible that you are related to a Suzanne Morin?”

The sharp vegetable knife dropped with a clatter onto the shiny tiles on the floor. Leopold Morin turned as white as the onions in the bowl next to him and fainted.

Benedetta jumped forward and caught his slight frame before he could drop to the floor. “Have you gone out of your mind, Uncle Teo?”

Garini suppressed an oath. Two long steps brought him next to the Frenchman. “We need to lie him down somewhere.”

“In my room.” Benedetta lead the way.

Garini carried the lifeless Leopold and laid him down on Benedetta's bed. Then he looked around. The whole room was painted in lilac with only the ceiling left in white. Lilac curtains filtered the weak winter-light, and even the bedspread had a deep purple hue.

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