“Good morning, Lili. How is your leg today?”
“You did not call me this early to inquire about the well being of my leg. What has happened?”
Since Tony only had a bare-bones story, it didn’t take long to put Lili in the picture.
“So what do you think?” he finally asked as Lili remained silent.
“I do not like this. But just as you and that other man feel, this may all be a storm in a teapot.”
He didn’t bother correcting her word choice. Also, for some reason known only to her, Lili always referred to Hudson as “that man,” although Tony couldn’t imagine why she’d taken a dislike to him. Sure, he was a bit uneasy his wife was in Rome with the bodyguard/security expert presumably around her twenty-four hours a day, but Shannon had assured him Dan Hudson was a professional.
“What don’t you like?” he prompted.
“This stalker is continuing to change and evolve in his relationship to Marta. It is clearly becoming more active and intense. I have been consulting experts I know in this field and the case is following the classic arc. Even if he did not murder the opera singer, he is clearly keeping close to her. The rose proves that.”
“And if this madman has killed?”
He could hear Lili take a deep breath before she answered. “Marta could be in real danger.”
“Do you think he might become violent toward her?”
“We cannot be certain, and it would be a marked contrast to his behaviour so far. I don’t believe that would happen, unless —”
Tony’s interruption was swift. “Unless he has actually killed De Vincenzo. Oh God….”
He knew his place was in Rome, protecting his wife. Why had he not insisted on accompanying her?
“My dear Tony, you always look at the dark side of every situation.”
“And we keep underestimating this guy’s resolve and abilities! You’ve said it yourself: Marta could be in danger.”
“Take a deep breath and look at this without emotion. You have told me that there is no proof he has done violence. We must remain calm.”
“Easy for you to say,” he mumbled.
But loudly enough for his wife’s closest confidante to hear. “No. It is not easy for me to say. I am becoming quite worried. But we really do not know anything yet. Is that man still with Marta in Rome?”
“Of course, and he’s going to stick to her like glue from here on in.”
“And she will call you when she knows something about the death of the baritone?”
“I’ve asked her to do that. Look, I’ve got to get off to work, but can I call you later?”
“I am coaching all morning until noon, then there is a two-hour break, with three more coachings after that. I will answer any call from you, though.”
As he clicked off, Tony reflected on the fact that Lili must really be worried. It was strictly against policy to let any phone calls disturb a coaching. Why did she always have to appear as the calm in the centre of the storm? The Italian in him didn’t allow anything to get in the way of a good emotional outburst, he reflected as he gathered up his jacket, stuffing his mobile into its pocket.
To blow off some excess energy, he’d walk to work at the Eaton Centre, but on the way he would make good use of his time by trying to get in touch with their private detective. He desperately wanted her viewpoint. More than anything he was hoping Shannon would be able to convince him not to just jump on the next plane departing for Rome.
The rehearsal had gone very well the previous evening.
Chapter Thirteen
I had a job to do and I had to keep focused on that. The show would most definitely go on. The GM of the Rome Opera had made that clear in his first appearance in front of the media. “While we are still sorrow-filled our colleague will not be with us except in spirit, there is a tradition of continuance in our business. It is our duty to see that done.”
I looked over my shoulder to where Dan stood in the doorway to the living room. “No, actually it’s more about making sure the receipts from that performance are safely in the hands of the opera company.”
He grinned. “And are all singers such a cynical lot?”
“No, realists. Opera is very, very expensive. We all understand that. I don’t think you’ll find anyone backstage tomorrow who doesn’t believe the most important thing is to do the scheduled performance.”
Not long afterwards, I got another phone call from Javier telling me we’d be joined by Edoardo Furci who had just finished a run of Rigoletto at The Met the previous evening. He’d be severely jet-lagged, but was game to help out. I’d never worked with him, but knew him by reputation. A very nice man, I hoped he could ramp up the menace for Scarpia. After all, he was following a newly-minted tragic legend and De Vicenzo’s personality had made him very good in the role.
“See?” I said to Dan. “Didn’t take long for someone to step into the breach. It will be a good career move for Furci — and he knows it. Lots of publicity.”
“You are a cynical lot.”
My return smile was grudging. “This business is a lot tougher than you can imagine, and careers have been made simply by subbing in for someone. That’s not the case here. Furci is well-established, but not so much that all the publicity he’s going to get wouldn’t help with future bookings.”
That afternoon I had scheduled another vocal coaching, mostly to again trot over parts of Traviata for the following week’s gig in Venice. Distracted as I was, I knew it wouldn’t be worth the bother to make the cross-town journey. It meant disappointing Peppe, but I felt he’d understand, considering the circumstances.
Anyway, I did need to stretch things out, so I used the first part of the afternoon to do some work on my own, accompanied by rudimentary thumping on the apartment’s piano to help me keep the pitch. I’d taken two years of cursory lessons when I first started singing, but I have little affinity for the piano and knew it. I sound like a drummer playing piano. Nuff said!
Dan made himself scarce, whether to avoid distracting me or because he didn’t want me disturbing him, I didn’t know. So far he hadn’t said much about what he thought of opera in general or my singing in particular — other than to say the day before that my volume had startled him.
When I called Peppe to cancel our session, I asked if he’d heard any further details of what had happened early that morning.
“One of my other sopranos had sung with the man a few times, and knows his daughter well. She said De Vicenzo had been out for a meal with friends that had ended very late. Later, the friends dropped him off near his apartment. He wanted to walk a bit to clear his head after too much wine. There is a long flight of stone steps that leads down to his street. He must have stumbled and fallen.”
“And nobody saw what happened?”
“Someone down the street heard a shout, then saw De Vicenzo’s body come to rest at the bottom of the stairs. There was nothing to be done. His neck was broken.”
“So no one else actually saw him fall?”
“Why do you ask this?”
“No reason,” I answered hastily. “Just curious, I guess.”
“It was nearly three in the morning, Marta. Even in Roma the back streets are generally deserted at that time.”
I thanked Peppe for all his help during my stay, but got off the phone rather quickly. I didn’t like the idea that the baritone shouted out as he fell. What had happened on those stairs?
Crossing the hall, I knocked on Dan’s door to tell him what Peppe had told me.
“Let yourself in,” he called out.
He was on his cell, but also typing furiously on his laptop.
I knew better than to disturb him, so I just asked when he’d be free.
At least a half-hour, he mouthed, so I pantomimed knocking on my door, after which he nodded.
Back in my place, I realized we had nothing for dinner but some pasta and a few veggies. If I waited for Dan, had my talk with him, and then we went shopp
ing, the stores would be closed. I didn’t want to eat out.
Via Flavia always has a lot of traffic, vehicle as well as foot, so I felt it would be safe to nip out for a few items since I had to travel barely a block.
I grabbed my purse, coat, and a warm hat and made for the elevator — but not before leaving a note for Dan.
It felt good to be out in the fresh air again. The sun had long disappeared behind the buildings, but the temperature remained quite nice as I hurried west. I knew Dan wouldn’t be happy I’d gone out by myself, but we needed to eat.
My friend at the fruttivendolo managed to talk me into buying more salad fixings than I needed. As an opera lover, he’d heard the tragic news and asked me all kinds of questions, but I didn’t tell him much.
At the salumeria, I waited a bit to buy a small chunk of parmigiano and a piece of their wonderful guanciale. To go with it, I chose a nice bottle of Orvieto and a small box of Baci for dessert.
My arrival back at the apartment with my booty couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes after my departure. Nothing had happened. Great. Taking the groceries out to the kitchen, I was humming “Amami, Alfredo, amami quant’io t’amo” from Traviata.
Next week was going to be a lot of work, but also a lot of fun. I’d never graced the stage at La Fenice before, and it would feel good to add it to my list of great opera houses where I’ve sung. A bonus was that Venice is also one of my favourite cities.
I stuck my hand in the second bag. My involuntary recoil took me nearly the length of the room.
I didn’t have to look inside to know what I’d just touched: a long-stemmed rose.
Chapter Fourteen
As he got the video link up and running, Tony was reflecting that this was all getting to be a bit too much.
At the other end, Hudson moved his laptop around to show him and Marta pressed side by side at a table. From the way she sounded on the phone when she’d first called, she looked to be more composed than he expected. Then the laptop moved a bit more and he could see a glass of wine near her right hand.
“We have more people here than will fit in front of the screen,” he told them in Rome, “so how do you want to work this?”
Hudson answered, “Why doesn’t everyone at your end say something to make sure we can hear all of you?”
Shannon spoke first. “Here, Dan.”
Lili then said, “And I am here, as well.”
“Everything cool?” Tony finished.
“Reading you four-by-four.”
Lili tapped Tony’s elbow. He leaned toward her.
“What does that man mean?” she asked quietly.
“It means he can hear us just fine.”
“Then why doesn’t he just say that?”
Dan said, “It’s obvious our adversary is still keeping close to us, murder or no murder. Shannon thinks he might have a confederate working for him, but I’m not sure. Somebody like him would want to be pulling the strings himself.”
Lili nodded and leaned toward the laptop. “I agree.”
Shannon had nominated herself to run the meeting. “Dan, can you bring us up to date on what’s happening over there?”
“I’ve made contact with the Rome police via a friend, all under the radar, of course.”
“What’s the status of the De Vicenzo investigation?”
“Ongoing and active.”
“What does this mean?” Lili asked.
“It means there are questions about De Vicenzo’s death.”
Shannon’s decision was swift. “I think we have to bring the Rome police fully into this. Dan, you’re the one on the ground over there. What’s a likely scenario as to how this happened?”
“Marta had trouble with De Vicenzo during the performance last night. I’ve never even seen an opera before so I didn’t notice anything. But you can bet if our friend was in the audience, he wouldn’t have missed what was going on. It wasn’t until later when Marta told me exactly what had been happening that I realized how outrageous it had all been. If De Vicenzo hadn’t died, opera people all over Rome would have been talking about it today.”
“Is that accurate, Marta?”
Tony noticed his wife push over a bit to be more in the centre of the screen. “It was pretty bad. I was tempted to paste the old bastard one. It never occurred to me at the time what our tussle must have looked like to the audience.”
Shannon turned to Lili. “Do you think what happened could have pushed our enemy over the edge?”
Again Lili didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
Tony felt a shiver rocket up his spine. He wondered if anyone else had a similar reaction.
Returning her gaze to the screen, Shannon said, “Okay, Dan, your call. You know how I feel. You’re there, we’re not. You have some idea of what the police are thinking. Should bringing them in be handled from here through the Toronto police, or should you make the contact and then we work backwards from there?”
Marta leaned in again, “I guess it is time to bring the police in, but I’m concerned about what happens after that. Obviously, I’m going to have to speak to them, probably for a long time — and I have a performance tomorrow. First thing Friday morning, I have to be on the train to Venice. Are they going to make me stay here? That gig at La Fenice is very important.”
Shannon thought that over. Having been a police detective, she knew how these things generally worked. “Okay. Here’s what we should do. As soon as we sign off, I will get on the blower to the Toronto police and speak to my contact there, bring him into the picture. It would be best to have this start through official channels. Interpol will probably need to be involved as well. I don’t know where this will go, but I will make it clear that you wish to cooperate fully but also have commitments.
“I will have Dan take the lead as much as he can, act as a buffer, but they will want to speak to you — assuming they don’t blow us off, which could also happen. You are in Italy, after all. My question is this, Marta: if we can swing it, would you rather speak with them before your performance, or after?”
Tony knew what the answer would be.
His wife didn’t hesitate. “Definitely after. As soon as that curtain comes down, I’ll talk. Not before. It would be far too distracting.”
“Anyone have anything else to add?”
Lili spoke up. “I wish to caution Marta about being alone at any time. You stood right next to this man today and did not know it. You cannot be too careful. Mister Hudson, please do not leave Marta alone for any reason.” Then she added the most surprising thing. “And you watch out most carefully for yourself. Today’s events prove that you are in danger as well, unless I am very wrong.”
On that happy note, the video link-up ended, Shannon made a phone call, and quickly left.
Once they were seated again in her parlor, Tony asked Lili, “You are very worried, aren’t you?”
She nodded. “Yes. I do not like the ease with which this man can get so close to Marta. We must all redouble our efforts to discover his identity before it is too late.”
Detective Leslie Dobbin looked at Shannon blankly. She could read his anger by the turned down corners of his mouth.
He had every reason to be sore. She had not been completely frank with him — and they were former colleagues supposedly working together on this. Old friends, especially if they were cops, didn’t do that to one another.
She had quickly realized that doing this over the phone would not have been a good idea, so she’d driven to headquarters after making sure Dobbin was still there.
The older detective always reminded her more of a kindly school teacher than a tough cop. Perhaps that was the secret of his long and successful career: no one saw him coming until it was too late.
Now she’d (quite rightly) ticked him off and that wasn’t good, because she still needed a favour — a big one.
“I’m sorry, Les, it was wrong of me. I was just trying to shield my client, at her request.”
He wasn’t going to make it easy. “You know better than that, Shan.”
“I know and I’ll keep saying I’m sorry until you’re satisfied, if it will help. When people are paying for the work you do on their behalf, you’ve got to respect their wishes as much as you can. I agitated to be allowed to tell you everything that was going on, but she was completely against it.”
“But you made this fellow out to be no more than a high-tech peeping tom, not someone who’s been following a woman all over hell’s half-acre, harassing her for nearly two years. Now you waltz in here and tell me you want to come clean — only after you suspect this guy might have murdered someone on the other side of the planet? Shannon O’Brien, I expected better from you.”
From experience, she knew Dobbin would go on until he felt satisfied he’d verbally beaten her up enough, then would move on. She only had to wait him out.
When he was ready to get back to work, he brought in one of the squad’s youngsters to take notes. While the boss had been yelling, she’d used the time to organize exactly how to tell her story. Regardless of how Marta might feel, it would include all details, nothing left out.
It only took thirty minutes and included the notes left with the flowers that Marta had given Shannon. She knew forensics wouldn’t get any new information out of them, but it would mollify Dobbin even more. And this case needed his help badly.
“So you want me to contact the police in Rome, is that it?”
Smart man. He’d seen it in an instant.
“Yes. We need them to take this seriously. If I send my man Hudson to see them, or worse yet, my client, they could well be ignored, if I know the Italian police.”
“Worked with them before, have you?”
“No. My dad did, a couple of times. They don’t think much of foreign cops — especially us freelancers.”
“I’m going to have to go upstairs on this, you know. We’re talking extra expense here and they now watch every nickel and dime like it was their own money. Makes things tougher…”
Masques and Murder — Death at the Opera 2-Book Bundle Page 40