Rosanna's pixie-like face appeared at the window. “Carlina! What happened? Did you have an accident?”
Carlina shook her head and got out.
Garini came around and stopped right behind her. He took her lightly by the elbow.
It felt good to have his solid presence so close. Carlina took a deep breath to steady herself.
“Are you all participants in the Christmas Fair?” Garini asked.
A murmur rose and several heads nodded.
“I'm afraid I have bad news.”
Garini's voice sounded unemotional, as always, but Carlina knew he hid his true feelings. She also knew that he would watch the crowd for any unusual signs and would register anything out of the ordinary.
“Sabrina Aventuri was shot this morning in front of her house.”
Someone stifled a scream. Two women to Carlina's left clasped their hands in front of their mouths in an almost identical gesture, their eyes wide with shock, but most stood frozen, too stunned to move.
“That's . . . that's impossible.” Rosanna's face had paled.
“I'm afraid it's the truth,” Stefano said. “I'm Commissario Garini from the homicide department of Florence. We have already started to collect all facts pertaining to this case. I'm in charge, and I'm also acquainted with Carlina Ashley.”
All eyes turned to Carlina.
She swallowed. Acquainted. What a neutral word. He could have said she was a friend. But then, maybe he had done it to protect her. If he presented himself as her friend, people could take it out on her when emotions bubbled out of control.
She cleared her throat. “We have discussed the situation, and I think that we should go through with the Fair. It was Sabrina's dream, and she worked very hard to realize this event. I believe she would have wanted us to continue.”
A babble of voices filled the street.
Lisa, the Florentine quilter, crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I don't agree at all. It's disrespectful. We should celebrate a mass for her, not continue to sell as if nothing had happened.”
Rosanna placed a hand on her arm. “I understand your feelings, but I really think Carlina is right. Sabrina would have preferred the Christmas Fair to a mass. Besides, we can still do that later.”
Carlina saw a few heads nodding. “We can't force anybody to join, and I realize it's a shock - to all of us. Unfortunately, time is running out. Shall we take a vote?”
“Yes.” Lisa nodded and turned to the group. “Who thinks we should continue?”
Almost all hands went up.
“All right. We'll go on, then.” For some reason, the decision relieved Carlina. She took the key Garini held out to her. “I'll open the door now, so we can start with the set-up.
The next hours rushed past as if someone had set the time into fast-forward mode. Carlina worked with flying hands. She had to have everything in top condition by nine thirty, so she would arrive in time for the shop opening at Temptation. She planned to stay at Temptation as long as possible and to return to the Christmas Fair just in time for the official opening this afternoon. To cover the waiting time in between, she had asked her mother to mind the booth. Hopefully Fabbiola wouldn't be late. Her booth was placed close to one of the trapdoors, and every time she stepped onto it, she had a hollow feeling. She had to warn her mother not to place anything on top. They'd had enough catastrophes for one day.
From the corner of her eye, she watched Garini moving around, taking statements. He did not talk to her, but from time to time, their eyes met, and each time, she felt a mixture of elation and nervousness bubbling up inside her. She was happy to have him close. Somehow, it made her feel safer, but on the other hand, he distracted her more than should be legally allowed.
Across from her, Lisa set up her booth in a spectacular manner - she had organized a huge gilt bed that looked as if it had last housed Lorenzo the Magnificent and piled all her quilts on top. Carlina eyed it and gave a wistful smile. She'd love to drop onto that bed and sleep a few hours. But that wasn't on the cards - not yet - not for a long time.
Maybe she could lend a few of her own samples to Lisa, to decorate at her store. After all, a bed and underwear complemented each other perfectly well. The thought made her smile.
“That's a wonderful quilt,” she called out to Lisa. “I love the cream, very classic.” It would also go with my leopard print cushions.
“Thank you.” Lisa winked. “We'll see what's left after the show, and maybe we can do a little barter bargain.”
“Sounds like a deal.” Carlina turned around to see another co-exhibitor standing in front of her with an anxious face. All the time, people came up and asked her questions. For some reason, they seemed to consider her as Sabrina's successor. Carlina tried to help as much as she could, but quite often, she simply didn't have an answer. Sabrina had pulled all the strings, and her loss made itself felt all the time. The general mood was subdued - usually, someone would have organized a ghetto blaster, and people would have shouted and laughed. Today, all sounds were muted.
At a quarter to ten, Carlina had instructed her mother what to do, took a rushed leave from Garini, and hurried over to Temptation. She did not have to walk very far, and the brisk walk in the cold air dispelled some of the exhaustion she already felt. The sky was laden with dark clouds, hanging low and threatening over Florence. It will snow yet. Usually, Carlina enjoyed being out during the day, even if it was just for a short time. She always felt like a girl skipping school lessons when she did that, but today, in spite of the sparkling Christmas decorations in the windows to her right and left, the dark clouds above Florence seemed to have seeped into her mood - and no wonder. She still couldn't believe that someone had shot Sabrina. Who could have done that? And why? Had it anything to do with Trevor's death or were the two murders unrelated? Carlina took a big step to avoid a dog pile and hurried on. One thing was clear - the murderer had come from an inner circle. Not many people knew that Sabrina had planned to leave her house before six this morning. Carlina shivered and lifted her shoulders. That didn't make things better. What did Garini think? She couldn't imagine that he would consider her to be a suspect, but if the two murders were related, she was too damn close. Who? Who could have killed them? Her mind was running in circles.
At Temptation, the pre-Christmas rush hit them like an avalanche. No sooner had they opened the door than customers streamed in . . . more men than usual, flustered and in need of being reassured that they were buying the right thing. It was so busy that Carlina didn't even find the time to inform her co-workers about Sabrina's death. In fact, she didn't want to. She dreaded the emotions, particularly Annalisa's reaction. She might end up in hysterics. So she held her mouth and pretended to herself that nothing but her work existed. Of course she had to inform Ricciarda before they went to the Christmas Fair, but that could wait.
By two o'clock, Carlina had the impression that the world was turning around her in circles. She listened to her customers as if on autopilot, gave advice, smiled, counted cash . . . and was miles away.
“The day is twice as long if you start working at six,” she whispered to Ricciarda as she re-arranged the bras according to size on the hangers. “No matter what the mathematicians say.”
“I didn't start at six,” Ricciarda pushed a strand of hair from her brow, “but I feel worn out already.”
For the first time that day, Carlina focused on her assistant. Ricciarda was pale, her face strained. I should have noted earlier. “Listen, we'll be working late tonight. Let's go to the café opposite and sit down for twenty minutes. We'll eat something and rest our feet.”
“Will we have the time?” Ricciarda looked as if she wanted to agree but didn't dare to.
“We'll make time.” Carlina informed Marianna and Annalisa that they were leaving early and grabbed her coat as well as her handbag.
Annalisa pulled a face, but Marianna waved at them with a cheerful grin. “Don't worry, we'll manage.”
&nbs
p; “Thank you so much. And don't forget to lock the security door tonight.” Carlina pulled Ricciarda through the door before another customer could stop them.
The cold wind was invigorating after the over-heated atmosphere at the store. “I bet we'll have snow later on,” Carlina said. “Doesn't it smell like it?”
Ricciarda lifted her nose into the wind like a dog and shook her head. “I don't smell anything. It's not very likely that we'll have snow, is it? The last time was three years ago, I think.”
Carlina laughed. “Maybe I imagined it.”
She waited until they had reached the coffee stage before she broke the news to Ricciarda.
Her assistant sat as if made of marble. “I . . . I don't believe this,” she finally said. “How can Sabrina be dead?” With a tired gesture, she rubbed her face.
Carlina shook her head. “It's crazy. In fact, we can only hope that the Christmas Fair will be an immense success, so we won't have time for a single thought to spare. Otherwise, everyone will sit in her booth, sunk in brown studies.” She shuddered. “You can't imagine how dreadful it was, setting up everything this morning, with that knowledge hanging over us.”
“Gosh, I can imagine.” Ricciarda was speaking without emotion, staring straight ahead.
Carlina took her by the arm. “You're in shock. Do you want to drink another espresso, maybe?”
Ricciarda shook her head and managed a wan smile. “No, thank you.”
“If only Garini finds the murderer soon. This second victim increased the pressure on him, you know.”
“I can imagine.” Ricciarda still spoke in that far-away voice.
Carlina decided to keep on talking until Ricciarda had found her footing again. “I'm sure it has something to do with that album. If only we could identify all the women and talk to them. Some of them seemed so familiar!”
“Really?” Ricciarda frowned.
At least it's a reaction. “Yes, but I can't make the connection. You didn't recognize anybody when Garini showed you the pictures, did you?”
Ricciarda shook her head. “I didn't.”
Carlina gave her a sharp glance. Her assistant sounded more the thing now, and even a bit of color had returned to her face. Good. “We have to go.” She put enough money on the table and gave Ricciarda an encouraging smile. “Just a few more hours, and we can put up our feet for hours.” When they got up, Carlina's back hurt, and it took a conscious effort to put weight on her hurting feet, but in spite of her bodily and emotional exhaustion, a little tingle of excitement remained. Will the new collection be a success? She loved the lace-bras and panties, but her masterpiece was a dressing gown going down to mid-calf and ending in several triangular-shaped tails. It looked bohemian and sexy and utterly enchanting. She had tested the prototype at home, catching herself wondering if Garini would like it.
She caught her impression in the mirror of the café as they left - she was smiling. What an odd mix a human being is - so many emotions so close to each other.
The Christmas Fair had just opened its doors to the public, and they slipped in together with the first visitors. “Carlina!” Her mother rose from one of the black boxes and hurried to enfold her in a hug. To celebrate the occasion, she had put on a new pair of wide trousers in black, sprinkled with gold-dust. This she had combined with a golden jacket that looked fit for a TV-star. To top it off, she had put a golden ribbon into her henna-red hair, the ends trailing onto her shoulders. Even the cushion underneath her arm had a new cover, with golden stars, not silver ones.
From the corner of her eyes, Carlina saw Ricciarda staring and couldn't suppress a chuckle.
“You look amazing, Mama.” Carlina returned the hug. “Thank you for manning the fort. Did everything work out all right?”
“You haven't told me about the wife of the mayor!” Fabbiola stuck her hands on her hips. “She was shot in front of her own house this very morning and all you talk about is lacy underwear! I told you there was danger! Danger from children, danger from--”
Carlina closed her eyes for a brief moment. “Yes, danger from broccoli. But I haven't seen any children around, and if you're suggesting that Sabrina was shot by a child, I'd like to know where you got that idea from!”
Ricciarda grabbed a price-list, slipped into the background and made herself familiar with the booth and its contents.
Thank God. She's a true professional. Carlina focused again on her mother. “Listen, Mama, I think it's better if you don't spread rumors like that.”
Her mother pressed her lips together and lifted her chin. “Everyone was a child once. You'll mark my words.”
“Quite.” Carlina took her by the arm and walked her to the side of the booth. “I don't think you've had time to check out the other booths. Why don't you do that now? I bet you'll find wonderful stuff. Sabrina--” she cut herself off and swallowed, then continued with an effort, “Sabrina had a gift for choosing the right combination of artists.”
“Hrmpf.” Fabbiola gave her a hurt glance, hitched her cushion higher underneath her arm, and waltzed off.
Phew. Carlina turned around. “So, what do you think?” She looked at Ricciarda who was sitting on one of the black cubes and studying the price-list. ”Is the presentation okay?”
Ricciarda looked up and nodded. “It's great. I really love those black mannequins. They show off the lace to its best advantage.”
“Thank you.” Carlina collapsed onto the other black cube and looked around. She was satisfied with the result of her work, and for the first time that day, she had time to focus. So far, only a few customers had appeared. Soothing piano music from the loudspeakers mixed with the babble of voices. It smelled of oranges from Rosanna's booth, who had created Christmassy still lifes by combining oranges and flowers. They looked spectacular.
Garini doesn't seem to be here. She had looked out for him ever since they had entered the building, but apparently, he was gone. I wonder what he's doing right now.
Lisa gave her a friendly wave from across, and Carlina waved back.
“Shall we make another bet?” Ricciarda asked. “I'll stake a bag of Ricciarelli cookies, and I bet we'll sell at least fifteen of these dressing gowns.”
Carlina shuddered at the memory of their last bet, but she tried to hide her revulsion. “They're very pricey,” she said. “Ten would be a lot already.”
“Deal.” Ricciarda smiled. “I'd like to look around for a bit, if I may.”
“Sure. So far, we're not being trampled to death.” She broke off, shocked by her own words. How often we use the words death and don't even mean it.
Chapter 15
I
“Commissario!” Piedro hurried over the crooked stone pavement of the Piazza Mentana.
Garini turned around. He had hoped for five minutes by himself to get his thoughts into order while grabbing a bite to eat as a late substitute for lunch but Piedro looked as if he had big news. “Yes?”
Piedro panted from running. “We just got a call.”
“Yes?” Garini decided to continue walking. If Piedro stuck to his usual reporting style, he would have ample time to finish his meal before he came to the vital part.
“It's about this Ake . . . Ake . . .”
Garini frowned. The stutter was new.
“The Japanese woman,” Piedro said in desperation. “Can't remember her name.”
“Ah.” Garini opened the door of the small trattoria and motioned Piedro to go through. Christo would surely offer them a cheese sandwich even though it was late for having lunch.
“They say she had a concert on December 19 in Tokyo. Thousands of people heard her play.”
“December 19? That's one day after the murder of Trevor.” Garini did a quick calculation in his mind. What was the time difference to Japan? If Akemi Hateyama had taken a flight directly after the murder, could she have arrived in time for the concert, taking the time lag into account? He'd have to look it up - no use trusting Piedro with such a calculation.
It would only occupy him for hours. He looked at his assistant. “Do you want to eat something?”
“Oh, yes.”
Of course. They ordered cheese sandwiches and sat down in a quiet corner. Two minutes later, Christo slid the plates with the sandwiches in front of them.
Piedro drew himself up. “The report says that Ake . . . Ake, whatever, did the last rehearsal on December 18, and several people testified that she was present. I also asked at passport controls if she entered the country, but they said she was last in Italy in May.”
“Good.” Garini nodded. “Then we can cross her off.” He felt a bit better. It was the first name he could cross off without doubt - if she hadn't used another passport, but that was not very likely. A tiny step forward. “How about about Suzanne Morin? Did the passport controls give you any information about her?”
“Yes.” Piedro bit into the oozing cheese sandwich. “She arrived December 20.”
“Two days after the murder.” Garini wolfed down his sandwich. “So she's out of it, too.” He didn't know if he should feel good or bad about it. If he could only cross off non-Mantoni-family members, his relationship to Carlina was doomed. But at least it was a step forward. Two women to cross off the list. “How about Ileana Marani, the one who now lives in Rome?”
Piedro lifted both shoulders and made a face. “She's got an alibi.”
“But?”
Piedro opened his eyes wide. “Why do you say but?”
“Because you don't look as if this was good news.”
“Well . . . ,” Piedro wiped a drop of grease from his chin. “The alibi is from the minister of education.”
Oh, no. Garini suppressed a sigh.
Piedro made an unhappy face. “Or maybe it was the minister of economy.”
“Quite a different person.” Garini had trouble keeping his voice level.
“Or . . . or the minister of finance.” He lifted his gaze to Garini. “I can't recall exactly.”
Charmer's Death (Temptation in Florence Book 2) Page 23