temptation in florence 05 - seaside in death (20 page)

“You met him here at the hotel?”

“Yes.” Nora nodded. “Last year, during your summer vacation.” She gave him a smile from beneath her lashes. “I . . . I liked him right away. He was so . . . so sweet and easy going. Not demanding and difficult and always getting excited about nothing . . .” She stared ahead, lost in her thoughts, “. . . not like my brothers at all.”

Carlina smothered a smile. Yes, that description hit the nail on the head. “So you've been a couple for a year?” She'd not have thought it possible. How could that have happened underneath her very eyes, and she'd not noticed anything at all?

“No.” Ernesto said. “After that summer, we stayed in touch with text messages. Then we started to write e-mails. And somehow, we got real close. Then Nora came for a visit to Florence with her brother Flavio. Do you remember Flavio, Carlina? He stayed with us some years ago.”

Carlina nodded.

“Flavio and Nora stayed at a friend's house for two weeks, just after Easter,” Ernesto looked at Nora. “And that's when . . . when it happened.”

“But why did you keep it a secret?”

If it had been possible for Ernesto to flush, he would have done so, but his sunburn didn't allow any deeper shade of red to show. “I . . . we . . . we wanted to wait a bit.”

“It was my idea,” Nora said. “Because I didn't want to start another bout of discussions with my brothers right away. I first wanted to enjoy our relationship a bit, let it deepen and grow stronger. You have to know that my brothers and my Dad would never think that anybody was good enough for me.” She squared her shoulders. “But I know my own mind, and I know what's good for me and what isn't.”

“Right.” Carlina could understand that. She'd kept her attraction to Stefano quiet at first, too. “But when did you want to make your relationship public?”

They looked at each other, and Nora said, “Sometime now, during the summer vacation. But then, the murder happened.” She turned to Ernesto, “You have to understand that I didn't withdraw from you and refuse to talk to you because I thought you'd killed him! I was sure, absolutely positive that you had not planned on killing him, so I could accept that it had been an accident. But the thing I couldn't forgive was that you hadn't let me fight my own fight. I thought you were like all the others after all and that I had completely misunderstood your character. That's why I didn't want to be with you anymore. But I still cared for you! I guess that's why I instinctively tried to muddy the waters by taking the gun away. And during the night that followed, I realized that the less we talked, the safer you would be. If nobody made a connection between us, then nobody could discover your motive. I was so glad we'd never told anybody about us.”

Ernesto swallowed. “So you froze me out.”

She took his hand and held it between both of hers. “To keep you safe.”

“And to keep your distance.”

She nodded. “Yes. I didn't want to be with you anymore if you didn't respect my need for independence.”

Ernesto flushed. “I do respect you. You have to believe me.”

“I believe you now.”

Carlina caught her breath. Nora's smile was so sweet it made her feel that she was intruding on a private scene. Those two would be happy; she was sure of it. She could understand Nora's reaction and reasoning, every step of the way. You lay the foundation for a relationship in the first months, and if something unacceptable happens, then you have to act on it, no matter how much in love you are.

She was impressed by Nora and felt that now was the moment to retreat and leave them at peace. They had a lot of catching up to do. What a weight must have been lifted off their minds. She remembered Ernesto's desperate sobs at the beach. How relieved she was that it was all over now. She grabbed Stefano's arm and tugged.

He stood like a rock.

“Thank you for your statement,” he said in his most official voice.

They all stared at him.

“That was a statement?” Nora squeaked.

“Sort of.” He gave her a brief smile. “We'll cut out the more personal parts, though we have to leave some of them in to make your actions believable.”

She looked at him with a blank face. “Believable?”

“Yes. I couldn't understand at all why you would hide the gun until I'd understood your relationship to Ernesto.”

“Oh. That.”

“Yes. That.” His voice was dry.

She looked at him, her eyes wide. “Will that clear Ernesto?”

He hesitated. “I can't tell. On the one hand, it explains why the gun was found underneath his bed. On the other hand, he's got a perfect motive now. That's the one thing we had missing.” He looked at Ernesto. “You're sure you didn't talk to
Signor
Rosari?”

Ernesto nodded. “I didn't see him at all. I kept my distance because I knew that I couldn't trust myself if I even so much as looked at him.”

“Do you want to change your prior statement in any way?”

He shrugged. “Of course there were no guys at the beach that night. At least, no one I talked to.”

“That takes a weight of my mind. I had already envisioned spending the rest of the month talking to Beppos from all over Italy.”

Ernesto gave Stefano a sheepish grin. “I was down at the beach, at the spot where we had agreed to meet, Nora and I. There was no one around. I waited and waited and waited, feeling more miserable every minute, wondering why she didn't come. At first, I thought she had too much work. Then, I realized that she'd stood me up.” He glanced at Nora. “I thought that maybe seeing me again had been a let down. I mean, my hair is really red, and maybe she had sort of forgotten that in the weeks when we hadn't seen each other.”

Carlina's heart clenched.

Nora stood on tiptoes and pulled at Ernesto's gelled-up flaming hair that matched his sun-burnt skin to the exact shade. “Stupid,” she whispered.

He gave her a fleeting smile, then turned back to Stefano. “Finally, I gave up and returned to the hotel. I felt tired and discouraged. Then . . . then I found the body. Like Nora I immediately jumped to the conclusion that she had killed him by accident. I was shocked, but I also understood why she hadn't come to our meeting place. I didn't want to give her away, but I knew that I had to call the police, and before I even thought about it, my feet had carried me to your room. It was pure instinct. It was only then that I realized how little I could tell you without giving Nora away.”

“Did you try to talk to Nora?”

Ernesto nodded. “Yes, briefly, the next morning. But she just said, “We're over,” and that she never wanted to talk to me again.” His voice was rough.

Nora grabbed his arm. “I explained why I did that.”

He nodded. “Yes, I know. Now. But at the time, I was . . . speechless. And hurt. But when I thought some more, I realized that maybe she wanted to protect me, because that fat Commissario wanted to pin me down as the murderer, and if anybody had known about us, I would have had the perfect motive. I didn't have an alibi – the whole hotel knew that. So I kept my distance, though it cost me.”

Carlina stared at him. “Would you have kept quiet even if you'd ended up in prison?”

He took a deep breath. “I kept hoping that it wouldn't come to that. I was afraid of cracking at some point. Or of slipping up. I'm not used to lying, you know. I was also convinced that Nora wouldn't let me go to prison. I expected her to step in and confess at the last minute. Until then, it was all right for me to wait and see what would develop. It was safer for her that way.”

Nora took his hand and held it up to her cheek.

Ernesto put his arm around her shoulders and looked at Garini. “Will you have to arrest me now, Stefano?”

Garini shook his head. “I've got a few other leads to clear up first. But don't go anywhere without telling me, will you?”

Ernesto shook his head. “I wouldn't dream of doing something so stupid.”

“Good.” Garini turned to Nora. “I've got a few more questions for you.”

She gave him a nervous look. “Yes?”

“You say you've worked here in the hotel for a year, so you started before Rosari became the manager here, is that right?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me about the transition of the managers.”

“Our old manager,
Signor
Patelli, was great,” Nora said. “Of course, he saw everything, I mean really every little speck of dust or so, but he was always fair. Then, one day, just like that, he was gone. We were all speechless. And the next day,
Signor
Rosari came in.” She shook her head. “You could tell that he had no idea how to run a hotel. He messed up even the easiest things! And the way he treated the guests! It was disgraceful. He also treated the employees like dirt, all of us.”

“So he was universally disliked?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Did anything ever occur that made you wonder, later, when he was killed?”

Nora frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Did anybody threaten him? Did you overhear a conversation that was strange in any way? Anything else out of the ordinary?”

Nora stared ahead, thinking hard. “Well, we all said on a daily basis that we'd like to kill him – but that was mere talk, you understand.”

Garini nodded. “I understand. What I'm looking for is anything unusual.”

Nora slowly shook her head. “No. At the moment, I can't think of anything.”

“All right.”

“Can we go now?” Ernesto asked.

“Yes, you may go now. We'll write up the statements and will bring them to you later, so you can sign them.”

“All right.” It was clear that now, with the confessions over, the crime was the furthest thing from Ernesto's and Nora's minds. They headed toward the back of the garden, their arms around each other, their heads close together.

Stefano switched off the tape recorder. “And now . . .,” he said.

Carlina gave him a forced smile. “I apologize. It was stupid of me to tell Nora about the gun being found underneath Ernesto's bed. I can't imagine how I came to do so. I think it slipped out because she scared me.”

He raised his eyebrows. “She scared you?”

“Yes.” Her smile became lopsided. “I thought she was the murderer, you see.” She squared her shoulders. “However, in the end, it was quite lucky, wasn't it, because it finally convinced Ernesto and Nora to tell the truth, and now, so many things make sense.”

He gave her a grave nod. “Yes. It was lucky.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Are you still angry with me?”

Their gaze locked. “Did your family ask Agatha to create that convenient testimony about
Signora
Rosari?”

Carlina shook her head. “No, they didn't.” She hastily corrected herself. “Or if they did, then I don't know anything about it. Agatha came out with it all by herself. She was serving us, and then she froze in middle of her movement, slapped her forehead, and said, “I can't believe it slipped my mind.” Of course we asked her what she meant, and that's when she told us. She asked me to text you.”

He held out his hand. “I'm sorry. I misjudged you.”

She took it. “I'm sorry, too. I blabbed.”

The harsh expression of his face melted, and the warmth was back in his eyes. “So we're even.”

Carlina's heart gave a little skip. She threw her arms around his neck. “Yes.”

A querulous voice said directly behind her. “I really don't understand why you're standing around kissing and hugging each other as if you had nothing better to do.”

With a sigh, Carlina let go of Stefano and turned to face her aunt. Benedetta wasn't usually so bitter and unfriendly, but Carlina could understand that the pressure on Ernesto was making her cranky. Benedetta had put on her bright red signature lipstick, but her lips were pressed into one thin line, and she watched them with her arms akimbo.

Leopold Morin, who stood next to her, put an arm around her shoulder. “Cut them some slack,” he said. “I know that Stefano was up half the night.”

Garini turned to him. “How do you know that?”

“I'm a light sleeper,” Leopold said, “and our window opens out toward the front of the hotel. I heard someone driving up and went to the window to have a look. That's when I saw you.”

Garini nodded. “Since we're talking about being a light sleeper . . . did you hear anything in the night of the murder?”

Leopold shrugged. “I heard the shot, but like so many others, I thought it was a firecracker.”

“You didn't hear anything else prior to that? Shouts, talking, a fight?”

Leopold shook his head. “I'm afraid not. All the noise coming from the pool is muffled by the bulk of the building.”

Garini turned to Benedetta. “What about you? Did you see or hear anything suspicious?”

She drew herself up. “I didn't, but even if I had, I probably wouldn't tell you!”

Carlina gasped.

Benedetta continued with her eyes flashing, “You needn't look so shocked, Carlina! It would be really stupid if I delivered the nails that Stefano needs to nail my Ernesto in a coffin!”

“But Aunt Benedetta!” Carlina shook her head with vehemence. “How do you know that your piece of information is the nail for Ernesto's coffin? Maybe it's the screwdriver that Stefano needs to get him out again!”

“Please don't take me for a fool,” Benedetta said with dignity. “I know the difference between a nail and a screw driver.”

Leopold exchanged a glance with Garini. His thin face, that looked so much like a racing horse's, with the skin drawn tightly across the bones, showed concern.

“I can't force you to trust me, Benedetta,” Garini said. “But the less you share with me, the more likely it is that the police will come to the wrong conclusion.”

“Then you're too stupid for your job!” Benedetta emphasized the point with a determined move of her hand. Something caught her attention, and she stared beyond Garini's shoulder into the garden. “Someone's coming up. It looks like Ernesto . . . but . . . but he's got a girl in his arm.”

Carlina smothered a smile.

Ernesto and Nora came closer, he with a beaming smile on his face while hers was shy. He stopped in front of his mother and said, “
Mamma
, I'd like to present Nora to you. She's Flavio's sister. You remember Flavio, don't you? He stayed with us some years ago.”