temptation in florence 03 - bankers death (7 page)

Emma gave a cry. “Under no circumstances can you say such a thing! You know what Lucio is like - he'll jump to strange conclusions because he's so jealous, and he'll immediately want to know if Valentino ever did it in our bedroom!”

Fabbiola frowned, then nodded. “Yes, I see your point. We'll have to find something else to make it plausible. How about he had a secret meeting with someone else, as he knew that Carlina would only return home late from work?”

Carlina gasped. “Mama. Are you crazy?” With a sudden rush of heat, she remembered her words to Garini that evening. She had rejected a dinner invitation, claiming she had something to do with the family. Would Garini believe her that the “something” wasn't a secret meeting with her cousin who was found dead in a most compromising situation in her apartment? Not likely. Her head started to swim.
Oh, Madonna.

Simonetta, who had not made another sound ever since she had stopped screaming, lifted her head. “I won't do it.”

“What?” Carlina stared at her.

“I won't tell the police that I had a secret meeting with Valentino in your apartment.” She swallowed visibly.

“But why do you think we would ask you to do that?” Carlina asked.

Simonetta pressed her lips together. “Because I'm the only one who's not living here permanently, and so I have less of a motive than anybody else.”

Fabbiola put her head to the side and considered her as if she was judging the quality of a new horse, shown into the ring. “In the first place, you'll have to tell the Commissario why you went into Carlina's apartment.”

Simonetta's eyes widened. “I went because you told me so!”

“What?” Fabbiola stared at her. “I never said anything of that kind!”

“Yes, you did!” Simonetta stood up and now towered over Fabbiola. She really was a formidable woman, with a back as broad as a man's.

No wonder her scream filled the whole house,
Carlina thought, feeling suddenly detached from the whole proceedings.
You can't beat a trained opera singer in a panic.

Simonetta placed her hands on her hips, taking up even more space on the crowded landing. “You said I should go upstairs and check if Carlina has any cake pans, so we could make more bread.”

Fabbiola shrugged. “Oh, that. But that was a long time ago.”

“I didn't manage to do it right away.” Simonetta's beautiful voice rang through the stairway.

Fabbiola frowned, clearly dissatisfied with the way things were developing. “Maybe we should move the body.”

“No way!” Carlina jumped up. “I'll call Garini.” She was not going to move a body ever again. She had done it once, and it had not helped at all.

Fabbiola grabbed her arm. “But what will you tell him? We have to make sure he'll stay loyal to the family. If he believes you were cheating on him, things might get out of control.”

Carlina swallowed. She had no plan how to tell Stefano the truth, but anything was better than leaving him to her mother's mercy. “I'll manage.” She hurried downstairs, her hand already on the phone. She only wanted to get away from her apartment - the further, the better.

As she burst out onto the street, she became aware that she never wanted to go inside again. The murderer had managed to kick her out of her home just like Valentino would have done - only faster. Her hand shook while she punched in Garini's number.

He picked up the phone before the first ring. “Carlina?”

“I need your help.”

Instantly, he turned into the professional mode that didn't allow time for emotions or exclamations. “What happened?” His voice was sharp.

She gulped for breath. “Valentino was killed.”

The door behind her opened and her mother's head peeked out.

Carlina turned her back to her mother and hurried down the street. Thank God she was still wearing her jacket, but in spite of its warmth, she was shivering so hard that the phone threatened to slip from her fingers. She burst out onto the Largo Piero Bargellini and turned right, toward the Piazza di Santa Croce. The Piazza was big enough to allow her to survey the approach of any family member, intent on overhearing what she was saying.

“Why are you running?” Stefano's voice was like a whip. “Are you in danger?”

“No. I . . . I just need some distance.”

“Where are you?”

“In the Piazza di Santa Croce.”

“I'll be there in one minute. Don't move, love.” He hung up.

With a sigh of relief, Carlina slipped the phone back into her pocket and walked to one of the stone benches that encircled the piazza. Garini would come. He would know how to deal with it. Then she did a double-take. Had he called her “love” or had she misheard him? He'd never done that before. She took a deep breath. “Calm down. Just calm down. All will be well.”

A German tourist with white socks and sandals and an overstuffed backpack walked past. He looked at her with a curious expression.

I'd better stop talking to myself.
She dropped onto the stone bench at the far end of the piazza, hid her head in her hands, and tried to suppress the shudders that still shook her body. It seemed to take ages, but finally, the shivering subsided. She lifted her head and looked at the impressive facade of the cathedral of Santa Croce. It was so beautiful, so balanced with its three arches and the tiny turrets on top. Dusk was falling, and the white marble glowed in the artfully placed spotlights. How many people had stood on this Piazza already, fear in their hearts, afraid of the future? How many people had carried their worries inside the church, looking for reassurance, for help? Sometimes, it was easier to believe - at least you felt you weren't on your own.

Carlina swallowed. She'd never felt like this - so torn in two. On the one hand, she wanted to be with Stefano, wanted to believe that he would help her, but on the other, she wanted to keep as much distance between them as possible, afraid of what might happen. Maybe she should run away, just leave him a text message that he'll find everything he needed to know at the house.

She got up. But where should she turn? Family was out of the question, and even her friends would soon be ferreted out. She knew all about Garini's efficiency.

A hand on her arm made her jump. She whipped around and stared at Garini's lean face.
Too late to run.

His gaze searched her face, then he frowned.

How angry he looks.
Carlina felt her courage sinking and wanted to take a step back, but for some reason, she was rooted to the ground.

“Come here.” His voice was tender, at odds to the expression on his face. He took her into his arms.

Carlina felt a sob rising inside her. She buried her head in his shoulder and inhaled his familiar scent of leather and soap.
Stolen time.
The words flashed through her mind.
As soon as he hears the truth, he'll fling me out of his arms. He'll never look at me again.

His hands caressed her back with long, soothing strokes.

She clung to him as if she was sinking.
Stolen time.
“Stefano.” Her voice sounded brittle. “I have to tell you so much, and it's not pretty.” She arched her back so she could see his face.

He shook his head. “I suggest that we call the police station and let a colleague take over. Then I won't have any loyalty conflict.”

They'll ridicule him forever.
The thought stabbed her.
Imagine, your lover is cheating on you, and every colleague knows.
They might even believe that Garini did it out of jealousy. She gasped at the thought.

His gaze searched her face. “What?”

She braced herself.
Four sentences. I just have to tell him four sentences. It can't be too hard to do that, can it?
“We found Valentino stabbed this evening in . . . “

“Commissario!” Out of nowhere, Fabbiola appeared and threw herself between them. “I'm so glad you came immediately!”

“Mama!” Carlina glared at her mother. “Stefano will not take this case. He's . . . “

“Never mind, never mind.” Her mother grabbed Garini by the hand and pulled him after her, in the direction of Via delle Pinzochere. “Just follow me quickly, otherwise, we'll have tons of tourists at our house, and that won't help, either.”

Carlina blinked. Tourists? What on earth had her family done now? She hurried to keep up with her mother.

“I won't take this case, Signora Mantoni-Ashley.” Garini said.

Fabbiola didn't react. Instead, she pulled him across the piazza with increased speed.

Garini and Carlina exchanged a look, then Garini shrugged.

Fabbiola marched them down the street and around the corner, so they could see the entrance to their house further down on the cobbled street. She had not exaggerated. In front of the door, a group of excited people had gathered, and several neighbors were hanging out of their windows already, gaping at something on the front step.

“Police.” Garini shouldered through the group. “Let me pass.” One minute later, he bent over the huddled body on the front step.

Valentino was fully dressed.

Carlina felt faint. A hand on her arm made her turn around. “Emma! Don't tell me . . .”

Emma held up a hand and pulled her to the side. “We figured it might be better if he was found here,” she spoke so low that only Carlina could hear her. “I hope you had the sense not to say anything to your Commissario yet?”

Carlina shook her head. “No, but . . . “

“Good.” Emma gave her a short nod. “Benedetta, Simonetta, and Maria are upstairs, cleaning your apartment.”

“Maria is here, too?”

“Yes.” Emma nodded again. “She arrived the minute you had left. It was a great shock to her. For a minute, I thought she would faint, but they all pulled themselves together, and we came up with a plan in less than a minute.”

She looked at the body with satisfaction. “Doesn't it look good? Mama and Benedetta held up umbrellas while we shifted him, so the neighbors from upstairs wouldn't see us if they happened to glance out of the window, and Uncle Teo held watch on the balcony for any passers-by.”

Out of nowhere, a quote she had once heard flitted through Carlina's mind -
A good friend will help you move. A great friend will help you move a body.
“You'll never be able to hide the truth from Garini.” Her mouth felt dry. “Don't you know they can read blood spatters and all kinds of things from a dead body?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Have some sense, Carlina. At least, he'll be able to suppress everything that's inconvenient now. If he had found the body in your apartment, it would have been too embarrassing for everybody concerned.”

Carlina forced herself to look at the door again. She saw Stefano standing in front of the body, his hands deep inside his pockets, a frown of concentration on his face. He seemed to focus on something riveting. Overcoming her reluctance, she followed his gaze . . . and gasped. “Madonna! I don't believe this! You buttoned the shirt around the knife, all neat and clean!”

Emma glared at her. “Of course we did. Nobody had the nerve to pull out the knife and stick it in again. If you object to that, I suggest you do it yourself the next time!”

Carlina didn't know if she should laugh or cry. “But Stefano has to call in photographers. They'll spot it in a minute! It's obvious that Valentino wasn't killed here, and it's also obvious that he wasn't wearing this shirt while he was killed!”

“So what?” Emma shrugged and showed her pearly teeth in a smile. “As long as they don't know where he was killed in reality, that doesn't matter.”

Carlina felt her knees go soft. She looked around but couldn't find anything to sit on. This was getting worse and worse - or was it? Maybe it would help Garini if she stuck to the family tale they had so conveniently invented. She bit her lip in indecision.

Garini looked up.

Their gaze met and held.

His face was set.

She saw the challenge in his eyes, and like a flash, a silent message passed between them, as clear as if they had spoken.

I know your family is in this.

I won't tell you anything.

II

Garini waited until his colleagues had arrived, then he left them to their business. He had already seen enough to know that the victim had not been killed in front of the Mantoni house, and that Valentino had not been wearing his shirt when he had been stabbed. The pathologist could find out more details, but that would have to wait until after the autopsy.

He gathered all members of the Mantoni family together in the hall of the family house and mounted the first two steps of the staircase. Towering over them, he said, “I'll keep this brief. Tomorrow morning, I'll try to get someone else onto this case.”

Fabbiola opened her mouth, but Carlina grabbed her arm and whispered something into her ear.
What is going on here?
He let his gaze rest on the other members of the family. They all seemed in different states of excitement. Garini sensed an undercurrent he couldn't quite place, a nervousness as if they all waited with pent-up breath for something to happen. But what? For an instant, he felt as if he was the ringmaster and had forgotten his role. It seemed that a few more people than strictly family had followed his invitation. Leopold Morin was at Benedetta's side, and at the back, Simonetta and Maria, the two juggling experts, were standing as if they wanted to be living examples of the tiniest and the strongest women in Italy. Next to Ernesto, he saw Ernesto's friend Roberto, his shoulders propped up against the wall. Then he spotted Uncle Teo at his right. Deep lines were carved around his mouth, and his eyes were shadowed. He held onto the banister with one hand.
He's totally exhausted. I wonder if he was fond of his nephew?
Garini decided to come to the point without further delay. “As I'm on the spot tonight, I already have to ask a few questions, but I'll only cover the most urgent ground now. My successor will follow up tomorrow, so please be prepared for further interviews.”

His approach was a bit unusual but he did not want to go into details at this point. He knew his boss. If he got in too deep now, Cervi would refuse to pull him off the case, claiming that nobody else had the same knowledge.