temptation in florence 03 - bankers death

by boeker, beate

  Her hand fell back to her side, and with a feeling as if her last resort had fallen away from her, she straddled her Vespa and rode back to her store Temptation. The first Easter tourists were flocking into town, and she had to concentrate to avoid running them down. They were apt to walk into the middle of the street, their gaze on some monument or statue, transported into another world, not realizing that the here and now might need some attention, too - or might even present a danger.

  As if her thoughts had conjured him up, a man walked right in front of her, crossing the street in a hurry without looking right or left. She swerved at almost a right angle, lost her balance, and fought with the heavy weight of the Vespa. Her hands grasped the brakes with all her strength; her shoulder hurt from the effort to keep the machine upright. At the last moment, she managed to regain her balance and stopped, her heart in her throat.

  The man who had caused her problem had long since disappeared down one of the narrow historic streets. Carlina took a shuddering breath. Her knees trembled so hard that she didn't dare to continue to drive.

  “Are you all right?” The voice came from her left, from the newspaper booth covered with colorful magazines and daily newspapers. The black-haired owner of the newspaper booth bent out of his little window, his impressive mustache quivering. “I saw everything. He must have been a lunatic. Are you all right, dear?”

  “Yes.” Carlina nodded and tried to summon up a smile. “I'm fine.”

  “You were lucky.” The mustache twisted while the man nodded in slow motion. “Would you like some water? You are Fabbiola Mantoni's daughter, aren't you?”

  Carlina looked up, surprised. “Yes, I am.”

  He smiled. “She buys her newspaper from me, and recently, she pointed you out to me.” He nodded toward the logo of Temptation on the side of the Vespa, then glanced at Carlina's helmet with the leopard print. “It's easy to recognize you.”

  She laughed, her voice less shaky now. “I guess it is. Thank you for offering the water, but I'm fine, really.”

  “You take care.” He nodded at her. “The street is dangerous.”

  Carlina started her Vespa again and took off, his words still ringing in her ear. The street is dangerous. Not nearly as dangerous as the home. She swallowed, her thoughts back on Valentino. He was in danger of being killed, that much was sure. It was not clever to underestimate her family. However, even if she didn't want to confess her crazy family's latest plans to Garini, didn't she at least have to warn Valentino? A shudder of repulsion ran through her. No. He was too slimy, too self-assured. Let him take care of himself.

  Maybe she could post anonymous information at the police station, tell them to keep an eye on Valentino? Then she'd have done all she could without being disloyal to her family. Now, that might be a good idea. She'd think about it during the day.

  The next hours passed quickly, thanks to the Easter tourists who had already come into town, but even while discussing sizes and materials, Carlina was conscious of not being quite focused. Her mind kept slipping back to the horrible scene at lunch. At five o'clock, she had a free moment and used it to clear up the shelf beneath the cash register. When she straightened again, she saw a man standing in front of the store window. His cocky stance was unmistakable.

  He caught her eye and winked, then walked into the store.

  If he winks one more time, I'll take his eye out. Carlina forced herself to smile. “Ciao, Valentino.”

  “Ciao, bella.” Valentino smelled of expensive aftershave and gave her a grin as if he owned the world.

  The aftershave was so intense that it left a metallic taste on her tongue even though he was nowhere near her. Carlina tried not to breathe. She saw Uncle Teo sitting in his chair, small and defeated. She heard his voice again, brittle, hopeless. If you want to kill someone, kill me. Anger shot through her like hot lava. “What do you want?” Her voice was cold.

  He grinned. “Still playing hard to get? I need new underwear, of course, and so I came to get your advice.”

  Carlina pressed her lips together. For one crazy second, she wanted to shout at him, wanted to shake all sense out of him for having led on Uncle Teo, for having lost the family house on some crazy investor's scheme, but then, her brain took over. This was a man who did not react to emotions. He would only laugh and tell her that Uncle Teo had acted of his own free will. Which he had, goddammit. With an effort, she managed to control herself. Treat him like the vermin he is. Freeze him. “I only have a small selection for men.”

  “That'll do, dear cousin, that'll do.” He winked at her. “I'm a man with very simple tastes: The best will do for me - and you do have the best, don't you?”

  Carlina turned her back to him and went to the slim shelf that held the boxer shorts for men. “You can see for yourself.”

  “What an ice-queen you are.” Valentino shook his head. “I wonder how you keep your customers.”

  Carlina made a fist in her pocket. With the other hand, she pointed at the shelf. “The ones at the top have just arrived.” She had not yet managed to put a price on them. Good.

  Valentino reached up and picked a box. “Hmm. Not quite my usual style, but if you recommend it . . .” He winked at her.

  Again! I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. “That'll be ninety-five Euros.” She had tripled the price.

  Valentino's eyes widened. “My, you're not cheap are you?”

  She met his gaze without flinching. “No.”

  He grinned. “That's what I like about you. You're so direct.”

  I hate you. The idea of killing him suddenly looked quite attractive. Why had she objected to it again?

  “However, you have to help me with the size.” He managed to look helpless. “What do you think? Which is the right size?” He pushed his hip forward as if he was a model at a photo shoot.

  Carlina looked out of the window. “Medium is fine. You're average.”

  Valentino threw back his head and laughed. Then he bent forward and placed a finger underneath her chin. “You are wrong, my dear. I am nothing like average, and I'll show you.” His eyes glittered. “Soon.”

  Before she could whip her face away, he managed to plant a kiss onto her lips and tucked a one-hundred-Euro note into her hand. “Here's the money. Keep the change. I don't need it.”

  With the new boxer shorts under his arm, he sauntered into the street.

  Carlina wiped her mouth in disgust, then ran to the bathroom and washed herself until her skin tingled. Valentino had taken the decision out of her hands. She would not send a anonymous warning anywhere, and even more important, she would not mention anything that had happened today to Garini. Not a single word. Let Valentino take care of himself.

  The telephone rang, and when Carlina picked up the receiver, her mother's voice came through the phone, loud and clear. “I have a solution.”

  Carlina felt herself sagging with relief. “You do? Wonderful.” She slipped onto the bar stool behind the cash register and closed her eyes. Maybe her mother had found a rich uncle she didn't know about. Someone who was willing to come through with the money and support them. “Tell me.”

  “Lentils!” Her mother sounded triumphant.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I said lentils!”

  “Yes, I got that, but I don't understand. What possible use . . . “ while the question was still in Carlina's mouth, the truth dawned on her. Her eyes flew open. “Are you telling me you're planning to poison Valentino with lentils?”

  “Why not?” Fabbiola sounded upbeat, as if she was planning a vacation. “I'll tell the Commissario that I grew them for myself. They're mentioned in my health-food-book, you know. Chapter four. I can say that I never knew the tiny seeds of . . . of whatever I'll add . . . were so poisonous, and that they got there by mistake.”

  “Mama.” Carlina tried to make her voice sound patient. “Forget it.”

  “We only have one problem left,” Fabbiola continued as if her daughter hadn't spoke
n, “how do we manage to give him the stuff? Do you think he'll eat it voluntarily?”

  “We can hold him up at gunpoint and force him to swallow the lot.” Carlina heard herself say before she could stop to consider.

  “Do you think this would work?”

  “Madonna, no!” Carlina jumped from the bar stool. I really have to be more careful what I say. “It was a joke, Mama. A joke! Besides, there's one other problem left, and it's not a small one: Even if the police should believe you, you'll be off to prison for accidental manslaughter or whatever they call it, so don't even think about it.”

  “But if your Commissario would do the investigation . . . “

  Hot rage filled her. “He will not do anything of the kind! I have to go. Ciao.” She flung the phone back onto the check-out counter. I don't believe this.

  The phone rang again, and Carlina picked it up. She wanted to punch something. Hard. “Temptation. Buona sera.”

  “I've thought about it, and I've got a solution.” Annalisa trumpeted into Carlina's ear.

  “Oh, really?” By now, Carlina had a pretty clear idea of what was to come. After all, her red-haired cousin had never been known for being timid.

  “I'll pretend I'm in love with him and will let myself be seduced.” Annalisa didn't even bother to mention Valentino's name. “Then, we'll make love in the kitchen . . . “

  “Whose kitchen? Your mother's?”

  “Wherever.” Annalisa didn't miss a beat. “It doesn't matter. I'll place a knife conveniently, and later, I'll tell the Commissario we had such a wild moment that I never noticed how the knife came to fall. It was an accident, and they can't put me to prison because of an accident caused by passion, can they?”

  “Have you been talking to Mama?”

  “No.” Annalisa sounded intrigued. “Do you want me to discuss the idea with her?”

  “No! Please don't.” Carlina felt old. “And please don't kill Valentino. I know he doesn't deserve anything else, but it's not our job to deal with it.”

  “I see what you mean.” Annalisa slowly said. “But I don't think we can afford to hire a professional. They're quite expensive, and we don't have money.”

  “Oh, Madonna.” Carlina closed her eyes. “You misunderstood me. I meant we shouldn't kill him. In any way at all. Full stop.”

  “And then what will we do?” Annalisa's sudden fury came down the line like a hot whip, lashing at her cousin. “Move into a two-bedroom-apartment with nine people? Have you gone crazy?”

  Carlina bit her lips. She knew that none of them could afford the rents in the middle of Florence. They would have to move out into the country, giving up the life-style they had been used to, giving up the quick visits with friends who lived around the corner, the familiar markets where they went shopping, their networks, everything. Her throat tightened.

  “It's very well for you to take such a holy attitude,” Annalisa said. “No doubt you expect to move in with your Commissario. His apartment is even closer to Temptation than our house, isn't it? That'll be an improvement.”

  Carlina swallowed. Under no circumstances did she want to force Garini into taking such a step. They were both in their thirties, used to living alone, and they had been going out for less than three months, with dates few and far in between. Their relationship had not yet come to the point where they could move in together.

  “You're unfair.” Her voice sounded rough. “I have to go, Annalisa.” Again, she hung up and eyed the phone. Who would ring next? Uncle Teo? But he would be the prime suspect; besides, he was the only one who blamed himself, not Valentino. No, she could rely on Uncle Teo to remain sane. Unless Uncle Teo decided to sacrifice himself. She shuddered. Stop. Don't think about it.

  Possibly Benedetta. She was one of the most balanced members of the Mantoni family, but the bungee-jumping seemed to have hit a sore point. Carlina did not doubt for one second that Benedetta would go to any lengths to protect her only son. However, maybe she would bide her time, waiting for Carlina to make a move and convince Ernesto not to accept the gift voucher. Which was another problem. Carlina had no idea if Ernesto wanted to go through with the bungee-jumping after all he'd learned today about his precious cousin. She would have to find out.

  As to Emma, she did not hesitate. Emma would even think it morally right to kill someone who had tricked them out of house and home. Carlina shook her head. She had heard once that moral values were about the only thing you didn't inherit - they were impressed upon you by your environment. Was she different because she had grown up in the US? She really had to call her sister Gabriella and ask her how she felt about the removal of an inconvenient cousin. Would she feel it was par for the course?

  The glass door of Temptation flew open and Ernesto rushed in with a panicked expression on his face. He had pulled a woolen cap so deep over his head that it covered his eyebrows and wore huge sunglasses even though clouds had hidden the sunshine in the meantime. Even his jacket had a different color than usual. Carlina frowned. Was he wearing it inside out?

  “Ernesto!” She shot a quick look at the door. “Are you being followed?”

  Her cousin looked over his shoulder. “I hope not.” He went as far into the store as possible. “Can people still see me from outside?”

  “Of course.” Carlina blinked. “This isn't the Uffizi Gallery.” It was, in fact, possibly the smallest store on Via de' Tornabuoni. “But what's the matter? Have you . . . “ she faltered, “. . . have you killed Valentino?”

  Ernesto whipped off his sunglasses and stared at her. “Valentino is dead?”

  “I don't know.” Something cold ran down her spine and froze her. “But if you didn't kill him, why are you sneaking in here like that?”

  Ernesto gave her a hurt look. “I can't go inside a lingerie store without risking my reputation. Imagine if my friends saw me.”

  Carlina collapsed in wild laughter and had to hold onto a shelf to keep herself upright.

  “I don't see why that's so funny.” Ernesto gave her a reluctant grin.

  “Oh, it's nothing.” Carlina gasped for breath. “I'm just a bit . . . keyed up, that's what it is.”

  “I know.” Ernesto gave her a rueful smile. “Pretty bad, eh?”

  “Hmm.”

  “I . . . “ Her cousin swallowed. “I came for advice.”

  Something warm filled her. Ernesto wasn't one to wear his heart on his sleeve. “Shoot.”

  Ernesto turned the sunglasses in his hands and looked at them as if they would help him find the right words. “I . . . I really liked Valentino.”

  Carlina was glad to hear the past tense.

  “He . . .was fun to be with, and he bought me things. He said you should do what you want, not let others tell you where to go . . . I don't know.” He shrugged. “He gave me a feeling that I could be independent.”

  “I see.” Carlina understood indeed. With an overprotective mother, an aunt and two sisters in the same house, Ernesto had plenty of reason to feel overwhelmed.

  “But today, when Uncle Teo said that we would lose the house, I wondered about Valentino.” He swallowed. “That was mean.”

  “Yes.”

  “And he drives around in this flashy car and spends fabulous sums in one afternoon.”

  “Yes.”

  Ernesto swallowed. “He told me that you have to keep up the image, even if there's no money left, so others will continue to trust you. Otherwise, you're sunk because you won't get more money to get out of the ditch again.”

  Carlina felt cold. “It sounds like a dangerous concept of life, but I believe it's quite normal when you're an investor.”

  Ernesto looked at her. “I don't want to be a banker.”

  “Me, neither.” Carlina looked at him. “What do you want to do?”

  “I want to study chemistry,” Ernesto said. “But if we lose the house, then I think I'll have to find a job soon, so I can support the family.”

  Sudden tears blinded her vision. He was only eightee
n. For heaven's sake. Valentino had a lot on his plate when the final reckoning came. She turned to the side and fiddled with a price-tag, hoping Ernesto hadn't noticed her tears. “You don't need to decide today,” she said. “Nothing is final yet, and who knows, we may still find a solution.” She managed to smile at him. “You can always work in the evenings and during vacations to support yourself.” Thank God the universities in Italy didn't take similar fees as the American ones, where you had the choice of buying a huge villa in Hollywood or going to university instead.

  “But that would not help Mama and the others to make a living.”

  “You're right.” Carlina took a deep breath. “But you'll only study for four or five years. Afterward, you'll be able to support them much better because you'll earn more, and that for decades.”

  “So you think I should study?”

  “Absolutely. And I think Benedetta would agree.”

  “Mama thinks that chemistry is too dangerous. She read a report that two percent of all people working in labs get hurt every year.”

  “Don't you worry about that. I'll deal with Benedetta.” Carlina decided to find plenty of reports to show Benedetta that all other professions were equally disastrous to your health, either directly or indirectly. If necessary, she would fake some statistics.

  Ernesto looked relieved. “Thank you.”

  “No problem.”

  His gaze went back to his sunglasses. “Carlina?”

  “Yes?”

  “I don't think I can still be friends with Valentino.”

  “I don't think anybody in our house can.” I just hope they've not yet figured out a plan to kill him off.