“You’re always sorry,” he muttered as he sat up again. Blood ran from his lips, mixed with his tears. “Stop being sorry. Stop all this madness.”
“I didn’t want this,” she wept. “I can’t face hurting you anymore.”
“Don’t leave. What if they want to kill you next? First Yuri, now Giorgio.” Claudio brought his hands to her face, the gesture pleading for her to listen. His eyes begged for mercy and expressed agony.
“I did it,” Canna whispered. “I killed Yuri.”
Claudio let her go; the pain gone, replaced by shock. Canna saw the change; suddenly he looked at her as if she were a total stranger.
“I have to leave for your safety, not mine.”
Giancarlo stepped forward and pulled Canna to her feet. She felt helpless as he yanked her weak body in the direction of the car. She fell onto the back seat, her eyes never leaving the sight of Claudio on the path. “I love you.” Her lips made the movement, but no sound came from her mouth.
Giancarlo slammed the car door and got in the front. The car pulled away, and Canna looked out the back window as they sped off. Claudio pulled himself to his feet, and she witnessed him crying. Canna heard the sound of Claudio’s voice shout as she turned off the quiet road and just like that, it was over.
This is the price you pay for love. People like Canna Medici shouldn’t love anyone.
CHAPTER 33
MILAN
The flight to Milan took two hours, and Canna needed half the time just to calm her nerves. The moment she opened her mouth, her blood pressure shot up again.
“Let’s get one thing clear,” Canna spat out. She sat back in one of the private plane’s leather armchairs and looked straight at her bodyguard. Giancarlo stood in front of her, and Silvio did his best not to listen to the conversation. He sat facing the front of the plane in another chair, in an effort to give one of his top clients some privacy. Canna didn’t care who heard what she had to say.
“Canna…”
“Let me stop you there.” If looks could kill, Giancarlo would already be in a body bag. “You need to call me Catherine.”
Giancarlo looked down at his polished shoes and resisted the urge to argue.
“I think that the relationship between us has become somewhat blurred. We aren’t friends. I felt obliged to keep you on after Giuseppe died, based on what you know about me. I have trusted you with private information that no one else knows.”
“I understand that, Catherine.”
“Today, you crossed a line that cannot be erased. I asked, no, I begged while screaming in panic, for you to not to harm Claudio. You heard my command, and you chose to ignore me. Your ego seemed more valuable than your job. I’m the leader here and I call the shots. I make the decisions.”
“You needed help, Catherine.”
“I could have dealt with the situation on my own.”
“Your good judgment had been compromised.”
“Look at me.”
Giancarlo looked up, ready to take whatever Canna said.
“Would you hit me?”
“No.”
“Then why hit Claudio? You had no right to do that. To hit him is to hit me. I want you to give me one legitimate reason why I shouldn’t fire you.”
“I can give you several.”
“Because you have a lot of information on my family?”
“That is one.”
“We all know how you and I will leave the Caraceni family, Giancarlo.”
“In body bags.”
“Precisely.”
Giancarlo swallowed. “Catherine, I saw the difficulty you were facing. I’m aware you have admirable intentions with Claudio but I saw one way out of the ugly situation.”
“In that case, you need to be more creative. I don’t see how I can forgive you this time. You have no idea how much damage you have done.”
“Claudio will forgive you.”
“Combined with all he knows, and all he learned today, I find it hard to believe that he will forgive me. You punched him in the face, but that was the icing on the cake. You’ve made a serious situation unmistakably worse.”
“I apologise.”
“I don’t know how we can go forward from here.”
“I will call Claudio myself and apologise.”
“Damn right you will! But please wait until tomorrow at least.”
“Is there anything else I can do?”
“I’m so angry that I want to push you off this plane, Giancarlo. The friendship we had is over now. You don’t understand what I need from a bodyguard. You haven’t respected any boundaries.”
“In hindsight…”
“I don’t care for hindsight.” Canna just shook her head. “Leave me alone. I suggest you keep yourself out of my sight.”
“With you back in Milan, and the story about Giorgio’s death about to break…”
“Yes, I’m going to be busy. But if I can’t trust you, I don’t see how you can help me.”
“You can trust me.”
Canna dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “You underestimate me if you think I’m going to let this go. Get out of my sight.”
Giancarlo disappeared forward in the plane, to where his seat awaited with the flight crew. Canna tapped her fingernails on the leather armchair and did her best not to burst into tears. That could wait for later.
Silvio turned in his seat. “Good help can be hard to find.”
“This is the first time he has let me down, and punching people can’t be tolerated. That isn’t the image I wish to display.”
“I have already been briefed on the death of Giorgio Savelli. His father, Guillermo, called me earlier.”
“It’s an ugly business.”
“I can act for you in the investigation, Catherine, if you wish.”
“I would appreciate that.”
“I hope they can find who did this to Giorgio.”
“I hope so,” Canna replied. “But we know how these executions are, the killers are rarely caught, and if they are, they don’t admit who hired them for the job. The guilty are never caught.”
“Regardless of your involvement, Catherine…”
“I had no involvement, Silvio. I wanted to leave my position at Caraceni. Giorgio would take over for me, so I had nothing to gain from his death.”
“In theory, you would earn more money with Giorgio gone. Of course, that is something for your corporate lawyers to discuss.”
“You just keep busy on the details of Giorgio’s death. It’s a shit-storm.” Canna paused and looked at her black fingernails. “I keep hoping that we will get to Milan and find Giorgio safe and well.”
“I’m sad to say that Giorgio is not safe or well.”
“This happens to us all, sooner or later.”
Silvio looked straight at Canna. ‘I think, sometimes, we enter into situations for money or ego, and we don’t know what we’ve done until it’s too late.”
“You couldn’t back out of the Caraceni affairs now, could you, Silvio? You know too much.”
“Just like you, Catherine.”
“If I’m honest, Silvio, this has thrown me. Yuri Dementyev, I barely knew the man. But Giorgio, I’ve known him almost a decade. He caused me trouble, but I didn’t want him hacked to death. I fail to understand the logic. Giorgio was perfect to take over Caraceni. He had been hand-reared to do the job.”
“We’ll leave the detective work to the professionals; all we need to do is make sure the wrong person isn’t put in a compromising position.”
“You mean me.”
“Is there anything I need to know?”
“There is a blood splatter in my apartment that wasn’t properly cleaned, and the blood belonged to Giorgio.”
“But he left the apartment alive?”
“Alive and well, if not in an agitated state. Giorgio knew something like this was coming, only he thought I would be the one to die.”
“Giorgio knew something he should
n’t have.”
“I want out of this life.”
“Your words to your bodyguard are correct, Catherine. We leave this family in a body bag, and nothing less.”
“Where’s that waitress? I need a scotch.”
~~~
Scotch couldn’t help Canna’s next problem; instead it made it more difficult to cope with the situation. The sight of the police outside her apartment building should have upset her, but thanks to alcohol, Canna was angry enough to say something she would regret later.
Silvio looked across the limousine to Canna. “Do you need me to come inside with you?”
“Oh I see, you assume the police are here for me.”
“It’s a basic assumption, Catherine, but I fear also a correct one.”
“I guess the news on Giorgio’s death is out.”
“Just because the police want to talk to you doesn’t mean you have to say anything.”
“Doesn’t that make me seem as if I’m hiding something? I didn’t kill the guy, nor did I order someone else to kill him.”
Canna jumped from the car, and the two officers that stood at the door of the building burst into life. “Signora Savelli, may we speak with you?” one of them asked.
“No, I’m going home,” she said and pushed past the pair. Silvio trailed behind, but Canna didn’t feel the need to have him by her side. The doorman held the elevator for her and the lawyer, and the pair rode in silence to the sixth floor.
“You don’t have to say anything,” Silvio said as they stepped out of the elevator.
“I’ll say whatever I want.”
Canna’s front door was wide open, and there stood her assistant, Francesca. “Oh, Canna,” she said. “The police called the office and said they needed access to your apartment. I told them that you were out of town, and the officers said if I didn’t open the door, they would smash their way inside. I didn’t know what to do!”
“You deny them access!” Silvio cried.
“It’s all right, Francesca.” Canna stepped around the fearful middle-aged woman. “I have nothing to hide.”
Canna went into the entranceway of the apartment, and at the bottom of the stairs, the police had already found the ill-cleaned blood splatter. “Can I help you, gentlemen?”
“Signora Savelli, I’m Detective Bassi,” a plain-clothes officer said. He put out his hand, but Canna ignored the gesture.
“Why are you in my home?”
“We are investigating the death of Giorgio Savelli. I assume you’ve heard the news.”
“Do you have a warrant to be in here?” Silvio challenged the overweight man.
“We have wanted to get into this apartment for years,” Detective Bassi smiled. “It’s a unique place. How many secrets could we uncover?”
“Have you got a warrant, or not?”
The officer glanced at his two assistants who were fussing over scraping the marble floor at the base of the stairs. “We only need to identify the blood we discovered.”
“You have threatened my client’s assistant, you have illegally entered this building, and you have illegally taken items from the property. You’re looking at hefty charges,” Silvio announced.
“I’m the police officer.”
Silvio grinned and Canna imagined the devil having the same expression. “I’m the man who ruins the lives of people like you. You don’t have a warrant.”
“I was unable to get one.”
“You mean you have no grounds for one.”
“All of Milan knows how Caraceni is in the pocket of every judge in the city,” Detective Bassi snarled. “Some of us don’t like being pushed around by rich people who can do whatever they like.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Canna said and folded her arms.
“There is blood all over the floor in your house, and I bet it’s the blood of the man we found in pieces this morning.”
“With no warrant, the evidence will be useless,” Silvio remarked.
“I’m sure we can make it official somehow. That is, of course, if Caraceni doesn’t interfere with the police investigation. Giuseppe Savelli is dead, and you can’t hide behind him anymore.”
“Watch me,” Canna mocked his serious voice. “I can do whatever I like.”
“Threatening a police officer isn’t within your best interests, Signora Savelli.”
“Threatening the Countess that owns most of this city isn’t in your best interests.”
“We’re done here,” replied the Detective; the man understood he was in the wrong. He had begun to sweat; he must have hoped to get out of the apartment before Canna arrived home. “It’s a shame we can’t see if we can find blood elsewhere in the apartment. This city does have a long unsolved crimes list.”
“You can’t be doing your job very well,” Canna retorted.
The Detective and his two assistants shuffled out of the apartment, under the watchful eye of Francesca, who looked ready to cry. Canna looked around her apartment; all the rooms seemed to be in darkness, indicating that the cops hadn’t been snooping. The police had been told about the blood, and the only person who was witness to the incident was Giancarlo, who had gone home alone. Canna closed her eyes as she heard the elevator shut out in the hallway. “I’m worried.”
“Don’t be,” Silvio said he pulled his phone from the pocket. “I will call Fibonacci, and by morning we can have an article in the papers, to ruin Officer Fat Face’s reputation.”
“Is it that easy?”
“Yes, it’s that easy. You’re the head of Caraceni Industries.”
“I haven’t done anything!” Canna cried. “All I know is that Giorgio is dead, and it’s already ruining my life!”
“I can go and sort this out right now, Catherine. The police can’t come into someone’s home and do as they please. Not to people like us, anyway.”
Canna threw a frown at her lawyer. “Three people knew about the fight here – Giorgio, Giancarlo and me. I know I didn’t call the cops on myself.”
“And Giorgio is in pieces. Where is your bodyguard right now?”
“At home, I presume.”
“You did remind him of his place when we were on the plane.”
Canna shook her head and folded her arms. “Giancarlo and I are friends. He wouldn’t work against me.”
“For the right money, he would put a knife in your back, Catherine. You would do the same to him.”
Canna scoffed. “I guess it’s good to know that my lawyer is utterly ruthless.”
“Don’t worry.”
“Does that line work on any of your clients?”
Silvio smiled. “Catherine, I will sort this out tonight, I promise. I will find out all I can about Giorgio’s death, and speak to his family. In the morning, all this will disappear. Giorgio Savelli’s murder won’t be a problem.”
“Murder,” Canna muttered. It hadn’t been labelled murder until now. “You believe me, don’t you? I didn’t know Giorgio had been killed.”
“You pay me to defend your innocence, not believe in it.”
“But still…”
“I’ve been the head of the Caraceni criminal lawyer division long enough to stop asking questions. However, I can tell the difference between truth and lies. It’s what makes me the best at my job.”
“And what do you believe?”
“I believe there is something going on here. I don’t believe you had anything to do with it.”
“And the business with Yuri Dementyev?”
“You murdered him, didn’t you?”
“Self-defence. Strictly self-defence.”
“I’m here defend, not judge. I no longer care if justice is done, as long as I’m the winner. I prefer money over morals.”
Canna cocked one eyebrow. “At least we see eye to eye on that score.”
“Do you mind if I do some digging?”
“Please, dig to your evil heart’s content.”
Silvio glanced at his Rolex. Midnight. “I will
have an update for you in the morning. I advise you don’t sleep here tonight.”
“I have a room at the Hotel Principe di Savoia that is always available.”
“Ah yes, the Presidential Suite. I have been there many times.”
“Are all your clients rich and dangerous?”
“Not as much as the Caraceni family.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have come back to Milan.”
“No, you need to be here. It looks as if you’re hiding if you don’t stay in Italy. Catherine, go to your hotel and relax. I promise you, I never let my clients down.”
Canna watched her lawyer leave the apartment, and she looked around the place. Once again the silence seemed deafening. Silvio’s words offered no comfort; someone had tried to set up Canna. There would be no other reason for the police to do blood swabs in her house. As she searched for the keys to the black Mercedes downstairs, she dialled a familiar phone number.
“This is Contessa di Caraceni. I need to see Salvatore right now.”
~~~
Doctor Salvatore Capelli’s private office was sadly recognisable. The man wrote out prescriptions for morphine like it was going out of style. Last time Canna visited, he had given her methadone and a lecture about bipolar medication. This time, she needed hospital-grade morphine for recreational purposes.
“Contessa,” the man said when he answered his doorbell. “It is late.”
“Some of us live in the night,” Canna replied. She looked the man up and down, his red robe an indication of that he and his wife had been doing. He didn’t seem like his usual neat and presentable self.
“I don’t normally see patients this late.”
Canna followed the man down a dark hallway into his office. She waited for him on flick on a lamp behind his desk. “I’m not a normal patient.”
“No.” Salvatore gestured for Canna to sit down across the desk from him. “I fear you have come to me in search of something undesirable.”
“On the contrary, I desire it very much.”
“Tell me, how is your knee? You complained of pain on your last visit.”
“I have had a lot of physiotherapy. Your surgical skills have held up, and so has my plastic kneecap.”
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