temptation in florence 05 - seaside in death (22 page)

Emma sniffed. “You know very well that Pucci was only looking for proof to convict Ernesto. I didn't dare tell him anything.”

Benedetta relaxed and nodded. “That's right. You couldn't tell Pucci anything, not even the smallest, itsy-bitsy thing. He was sure to misinterpret even the easiest facts.”

“Exactly.” Emma looked at Garini, her chin lifted in defense.

He looked at her. “Don't you think that you should have recognized the voice of your own brother?”

“That's just it!” Emma said. “I didn't recognize his voice! I heard the voice of a young man, that's all.”

“Would you swear that it wasn't your brother's voice?”

Emma hesitated.

Carlina closed her eyes.
Damn.
Why were actions so much more convincing than words?

“She couldn't have recognized my voice.” Ernesto looked at Garini like a little dog. “Because I wasn't there. I didn't fight with Rosari at the pool. I only came much later, when he was already dead.”

Garini looked at Emma, but his face didn't show what he thought. “What happened when you heard the shot?”

Emma flushed. “I didn't hear the shot.”

They all stared at her.

Benedetta blinked. “You didn't hear the shot? How's that possible? I mean, if you heard the voices, then you must have heard the shot. Surely it was much louder!”

“Yes, it was,” Carlina said. “It woke me, but I thought it was a fire cracker.”

Emma gave an elegant shrug. “Well, I didn't hear the shot. I couldn't.”

Her brother frowned. “Why couldn't you?”

“Because I was in the bathroom at the time.”

“No way!” Ernesto stared at his sister. “I won't believe for a single minute that you left in the middle of overhearing an interesting fight just to go to the bathroom.”

Emma looked at the tip of her swinging foot again, but she'd lost a bit of her poise. “The conversation wasn't all that interesting. After all, I didn't understand a word.”

Ernesto laughed. It didn't sound pretty. “Come off it!”

“I wasn't feeling well.” A defensive note had crept into Emma's voice. She looked at Garini. “That's it. The interview is over. I've said all I want to say.”

Carlina stared at her cousin. Ernesto was right; Emma would never have left in the middle of an interesting conversation . . . and shouting voices in the middle of the night were interesting, no matter how little you understood. Why had Emma gone to the bathroom? She tried to picture the events of that night in her mind. If Emma had woken up in the middle of the night because she had to go to the bathroom, then she would have gone there straight away. She wouldn't have stopped in front of the open window to draw deep breaths of the 'sweet night air'. She might have done that returning from the bathroom, but not before. Even that was a stretch . . . when had Emma ever talked about the beauty of nature? And why was she, who was hardly ever knocked off her poise, suddenly so cagey? What was she hiding?

Garini looked at Emma. “I'm afraid it isn't that easy. I still have a few questions.”

Lucio took a step forward and lifted a belligerent chin. “You've heard my wife. She has nothing else to say.”

“Oh, my God!” Benedetta started forward. “You're ill! My angel, my little girl!” She went to her knees in front of Emma and stared at the face of her eldest daughter. “Talk to me! Are you sick? Is it--?” She gulped. “Oh, no, don't say it's cancer. Please! I've already lost your father to that terrible illness, and--”

Like a genie out of a bottle, Fabbiola appeared behind the tight circle of Mantoni members who were by now all grouped around Emma's chair. “Your husband had an ulcer, not cancer, my dear sister. Let's not muddle the facts. What's going on here anyway?”

Before anyone could answer, Uncle Teo appeared. As he was too small to look over the shoulders of the other family members, he slipped into the inner circle like a little weasel and stopped in front of Emma's chair. His wrinkled face showed concern.

“Omar, push me forward,” Aunt Violetta's booming voice said. “I want to see what's going on here.”

Omar touched an arm here and there, a gentle smile on his dark face, and managed to push the wheelchair with this step-mother to the front row.

Right on his heels came the only family member that had been missing, Emma's younger sister Annalisa. Her red hair glowed in the sun.

“I feel like a queen in a theater,” Emma said. “Won't some more of you go down on your knees? I'd like that.”

“Don't joke, my darling.” Benedetta stroked her hand. “Now tell me the truth. Are you ill?”

Fabbiola harrumphed. “Of course not,” she said. “She's pregnant.”

For an instant, nobody said a word.

Then pandemonium broke.

Benedetta threw herself over Emma with a scream of delight and Uncle Teo pumped Lucio's arm up and down as if it was a sort of exercise to train geriatric muscles while Omar clapped the future father on the back. Fabbiola hugged the speechless Leopold because he was standing closest to her; Aunt Violetta jumped out of her wheelchair and buried Carlina in a monster hug underneath her weight, and Ernesto explained to a bewildered Nora with a low voice that this was just his family acting like usual.

Just two people didn't move: Garini watched the scene with an impassive face, and Annalisa was frozen to the spot.

Benedetta came up for air with a triumphant grin. “What a day!” she shouted. “First, my Ernesto finds a nice girl, and now, Emma is pregnant! Let's celebrate!”

Annalisa threw a startled glance at her brother.

Ernesto was still holding hands with Nora, his head close to her, murmuring something in her ear.

Carlina turned to Fabbiola. “How on earth did you guess that Emma is pregnant,
Mamma
?”

Fabbiola smirked. “I noticed that she'd been turning green around the gills when she came down to breakfast these last few days. It wasn't difficult to guess why.”

Garini looked at Emma. “So you were awake during the night of the murder because . . .”

She nodded. “. . . because I had to throw up. I woke up, ran to the bathroom, threw up, went to the window to catch some air, heard the conversation I told you about, had to run to the bathroom again, and when my stomach had finally calmed down, all was quiet outside. I felt like a rag, so I went back to bed without even thinking about that fight anymore.”

“How about you, Lucio?” Garini turned to her husband.

“Oh, he slept through it all.” Emma made an airy move with her hand. “If I need him at night, I have to shout in his ear to rouse him.”

Lucio made a sheepish face. “I'm afraid that's true.”

“Emma!” Benedetta was gripping her daughter's hand like a lifeline. “When is the baby due?”

Emma blushed. “It's early days yet; that's why we didn't want to tell you. It's the sixth week now.”

Fabbiola turned around and looked at her daughter. “I think it's time for you to consider having babies, too, Carlina. You're not getting any younger. Emma is nine years younger, and see how she's overtaking you!”

Carlina kept a tight rein on her temper and met her mother's gaze without flinching. “You already have a grandchild,
Mamma
.”
Thank God for that.
She really had to call Gabriella and thank her younger sister again for taking that burden off her. “Little Lilly is now almost eight years old. Benedetta will never catch up with that, so you can relax.”

“Let's not have any negative thoughts on this beautiful day,” Benedetta grabbed her sister's hand. “I want us to celebrate!” Her gaze fell on Stefano's blinking recorder. “I say . . . are you still recording this?”

Garini nodded. “Emma's statement will be valuable help finding the murderer.”

Benedetta blanched. “Oh,
Madonna
. Is it possible that Emma's in danger?” Her voice rose. “And my grandchild? Will my grandchild be safe?”

Lucio drew himself up. “I'm still here, Benedetta. I'll protect my wife and baby.”

Benedetta stared at him. “But what can you do against a determined murderer? You're not trained to fight with desperate men!”

“Now please remain calm,” Garini said. “Hysterics won't help anyone.”

Benedetta flashed such a scorching look at him that it put the hot midday sun to shame. “It's easy for you to say so! You don't have a baby to lose!”

“That's just my point,” Fabbiola wagged her head and lifted her ever-present cushion like an accusing shield. “If he had a baby of his own, he might react differently. Carlina, I really think you should consider it. You're not getting any younger.”

That was enough. Carlina grabbed the recording device, switched it off, then took Stefano by the arm and pulled him with her. “All right,
Mamma
,” she said with clenched teeth. “We're off for a bit of sex. Don't disturb us, or you might risk your future grandchild.”

Thank God Stefano came with her without resisting. She pulled him around the corner of the hotel, out of earshot of the assembled family, then stopped, her face hot. “Sorry about that. I just couldn't stand it any longer.” She looked at her dusty sandals, then gave him a fleeting glance. “I guess you have to go to the police station now, don't you?”

He looked down at her, a smile lurking in his eyes. “Not yet. Besides, you should never waste an excellent idea.” He took her hand and led her inside the hotel.

When Garini met Lampone in the late afternoon at the police station, they both said the same thing at the same time: “I've got plenty of news for you.”

Lampone laughed. It transformed his whole face. “You go first,” he said. “I'm sorry that Ambrosiano isn't here, but he already reported everything he learned to me, and I'll pass it on to you. He had to finish some work on another case.”

“No problem.” Garini took a minute to organize his thoughts, then he plunged into the details of Ernesto's and Nora's story as well as all the intricate details of how the Mantoni family worked. When he had finished, he leaned back and waited.

Lampone scratched his head. “It doesn't look good for that young cousin of yours.”

Garini didn't correct him about the relationship. Ernesto felt like a cousin. “I know.” His voice was even.

Lampone looked at him with his strange light-brown eyes. “He had a motive, no alibi, the means, and he was at the spot.”

“I'm aware of that.”

“And yet, you don't think that he did it, did you?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Garini frowned. He had to find the right words now, words that would convince Lampone, but he found it difficult to do so without losing his standing. How did you explain instinct? “Merely my understanding of his character.”

“How about the theory of an accident?” Lampone insisted. “It's not unreasonable to assume that they met and started a verbal fight. Then Rosari pulled the gun and Ernesto might have jumped at him, turning the gun against him by accident. Remember the strange entry of the bullet.”

Garini nodded. “I agree with everything you say, and if you'd asked me yesterday, I would have said that I'm seriously worried about Ernesto. However, today, I talked to him, and he told me everything. He didn't hold anything back; I am sure of that. And he kept saying that he didn't kill Rosari – something he'd claimed right from the beginning. Besides, he was so relieved that Nora didn't do it, he was almost giddy with happiness.” He shook his head. “So no, I really don't think that he did it.”

“All right.” Lampone pulled a file toward him and absentmindedly wiped the dust from its cover. “Let's look at the other suspects. Of course, everything we said for Ernesto is also valid for Nora.” He gave Garini a shrewd glance. “How do you feel about that?”

Garini sighed. He was starting to feel like an idiot, but it couldn't be helped. “I can't picture Nora doing it,” he said. “Not after having talked to her today.”

“She had a strong motivation, though,” Lampone said.

“Yes, I'm aware of that, but the fact that they both kept thinking the other had done it speaks for their innocence.”

“Are you sure they suspected each other?”

“Oh, yes.” Garini nodded. “I've never seen Ernesto as down as these last days. In fact, I think that Rosari's wife is a more likely suspect. Our case against her is just as strong as the case against Ernesto and Nora. She had a very strong motive – not only the divorce but also the life insurance.”

“Besides, she was on the spot – and she lied to you about that.”

Garini winced. “I'm not sure if we can rely on the testimony of the coffee shop owner.”

Lampone looked surprised. “Really? Why not?”

Garini swallowed. “I had an impression . . .”
drat it all, he had to admit it,
“that the Mantoni family helped
Signora
Agatha remember that particular detail of the night.”

Lampone stared at him. “They wouldn't.”

“You don't know them.” Garini gestured at the files in Lampone's hand. “Did Ambrosiano manage to find more eye witnesses for the night of the murder? Someone who saw Signora Rosari in the vicinity of the hotel shortly before midnight?”

Lampone shook his head. “No. Ambrosiano talked to all the club owners and several other people who are usually around at that time, but nobody could recall seeing her.”

“How about the life insurance company? Did they confirm the facts?”

“Yes, they did.” Lampone pushed a hand through his thick, white hair. “She will get the life insurance, and it'll certainly help her out of her current difficult financial situation.”

Garini sighed. “So we're at a stand still. We suspect her, but other than circumstantial evidence, we have no proof.”

“If you don't count the testimony from
Signora
Agatha,” Lampone said. “Personally, I would trust her.”

“Really? Why?”

“I've known her for a long time, and I don't think she would incriminate a young woman merely to help someone else.”

A mix of relief and shame went through Garini. “If that's so, I've got some serious apologies to make to the Mantoni clan.”

Lampone smiled. “You've had ample provocation.”

Garini looked at the cooked raspberry eyes and suddenly realized that he had found someone he liked to work with. Yes, Lampone was a sparring partner on his level who not only had integrity but maybe even humor. He relaxed against his chair. “All right, let's put her case to the side for the moment.” He gave Lampone a brief smile. “Maybe we should do something simple for a change, just to get it out of the way. Did Ambrosiano manage to talk to the young girl from the coffee shop who's now on vacation? The one who was sexually harassed by Rosari?”