temptation in florence 05 - seaside in death

by boeker, beate

  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 do
n'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.”

  Benedetta stared at him, then at Nora, then at him again. Her red mouth formed a large O. “What? I . . .” Her voice petered out. She swallowed and made another effort. “This is a bit sudden.”

  Her son gave her a disarming smile. “I know. But I thought you'd be happy. Haven't you told me to find a nice girl? Nora is nice.”

  Benedetta threw a wild glance at Nora. “I'm sure she is. It's just . . . oh, Ernesto, aren't you a bit young for that?”

  Ernesto lifted his eyebrows and managed to convey a mix of hurt feelings and arrogance in spite of his flaming hair and sun-burnt face. “I'm eighteen, Mamma. Even the law accepts that I'm an adult.”

  “Ptschah, the law.” Benedetta's depreciating move with her hand made it clear that the law didn't matter to her, but talking of it made her remember the threat to her darling son, and she turned to Nora with energy. “Oh, was he with you on the night of the murder? Are you able to give him the alibi he needs?”

  Nora's face turned almost as red as Ernesto's. “I'm afraid not,” she said with a quick sidelong look at Garini.

  “Oh.” Benedetta's voice was flat. “So this is quite a new development?”

  “No.” Ernesto stood his ground. “We've been together since Easter.”

  “Since Easter!” Benedetta stared at her son as if he had developed wings right under her very eyes. “But why didn't you tell me earlier?”

  He lifted his chin and pulled Nora closer to him. “We still needed a bit of time for us.”

  Benedetta blinked. “I don't get it. If you've been together since Easter, it would have been only natural that you'd spend as much time as possible together. I wasn't born yesterday. So why can't the girl give you an alibi for the time of the murder?”

  Ernesto swallowed. “There were complications.”

  “Complications!” Benedetta swelled with indignation. She narrowed her eyes and bent forward, ignoring Nora completely. “Could it be that she's only using you? How are you sure that she didn't commit the murder? Are you aware that you're still the main suspect?”

  Carlina saw Nora's eyes fill with tears, so she stepped forward. “They both told Stefano everything they know, Benedetta.” Usually, Benedetta was the gentlest of her aunts. However, the threat to her darling son, combined with the fear of losing him to another woman had shaken her off balance. Carlina had to get her off the topic, to give Nora and Ernesto a bit of breathing space. Maybe attack was the best form of defense. “Actually, I think it's time you did the same. There's something you know that you're not telling. I suggest you spill the beans now.”

  Benedetta gave her a flaming look that reminded Carlina of her own mother Fabbiola. “You keep quiet, Carlina! We all know whose side you're on!”

  Carlina felt her temper rising and opened her mouth, but before she could give a heated reply, Ernesto said, “This is ridiculous, Mamma. If you know something, you have to tell Stefano. Right now.” He sounded as if he'd never hesitated to tell Garini all he knew.

  Carlina threw a glance at Stefano, but he had put on his inscrutable face. Really, he was quite intimidating when he looked like that.

  “Fine!” Benedetta stamped her foot. “I'll tell him everything I know, and then you can see how you'll explain that away! On our first night here, I saw you slipping fifty Euros to that good-for-nothing manager, and I have no idea why you had to bribe him at all!”

  Ernesto caught his breath. His stricken face made it clear that he'd not expected this.

  Benedetta gave a little sob and threw her arms around Ernesto. “I'm sorry, my darling, my little lamb! I didn't want to get you into trouble; I'd sworn to myself that I would never let anybody know. But you provoked me so much!”

  Ernesto was thrown off balance by his mother's impetuous embrace. He had to let go of Nora to grab Benedetta's petite frame, but over his mother's shoulder, he gave Garini a desperate look. “I forgot, Stefano. Honestly, I didn't mean to hide it.”

  “Why did you do it?” Garini's voice was calm.

  “I wanted him to exchange the rooms again! I was desperate to get my usual room, so I could slip out at any time and meet Nora without having to cross the whole hotel. You know the family; they're always out and about and asking where I'm going. I couldn't stand that!”

  “Did he promise to do the exchange of rooms if you gave him money?”

  “Kind of.” Ernesto carefully plucked his mother from his neck and put her to the side, then faced Stefano. “He sort of insinuated that he could do something if I made it worth his while, so I asked him if thirty Euros would do the trick.” A beat started to pulse at his neck. “But he said he needed fifty. I gave him all my money, though I had saved for ages so I could invite Nora to go out with me. He pocketed it, said he would see what he could do, and never mentioned it again, the swine!”

  Benedetta gave a wail and flung herself at Ernesto again. “Oh, Madonna, Ernesto. Did you kill him, my lamb?”

  Again, Ernesto slipped out of her suffocating arms with an ease that spoke of much practice. He took a step back and glared at her. “No, I did
n't, Mamma! How can you believe that I would kill someone for fifty Euros?”

  Nora took his hand and held it tightly.

  Behind them, a languid voice asked, “Who killed someone for fifty Euros?”

  With the exception of Garini, they all jumped. In the heat of the discussion, they hadn't paid attention to their surroundings anymore. Ernesto's sister Emma and her husband Lucio were standing right behind the tight circle the six people – Stefano and Carlina, Benedetta and Leopold, Ernesto and Nora - had unconsciously formed.

  Emma wore a bright dress and a pair of huge sunglasses. She had tied her long, brown hair into a high ponytail while Lucio's hair was slicked back. With his crease-free linen shirt, matching shorts and leather loafers, he matched his good-looking wife.

  Benedetta flung herself at her daughter. “Emma! You have to do something! You're the eldest!”

  Lucio put a protective arm around Emma's shoulders. “She can't do anything.”

  Benedetta let go of her daughter and glared at her son-in-law. “Why not?”

  At that instant, Emma discovered the girl holding hands with her little brother. Her eyes lit up. “What's this? Do you have a girlfriend, Ernesto?”

  Ernesto's sunburn intensified. “Yes. This is Nora.” His voice was full of pride.

  “Well, I never . . .” Emma blinked.

  Afraid of what her outspoken cousin would say next, Carlina threw herself into the fray. “We're just re-discussing the night of the murder,” she said. “Collecting more facts.”

  Emma lifted an eyebrow. “Facts or fiction?” she asked.

  “Facts, I hope,” Garini's voice was dry. “Do you have anything to add?”

  Before anybody could draw a breath, Lucio replied instead of his wife. “No, she doesn't.”

  Garini's eyebrows climbed.

  Carlina's gaze went from Lucio to Emma. He looked uncomfortable; she didn't. But then, Emma was hardly ever discomfited by anything.

  “If you know anything, you have to say it.” Ernesto's voice was urgent. “Even if it seems to implicate me. I swear, I didn't kill Rosari, and I know that Stefano believes me.”