Violent Daylight

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Violent Daylight Page 43

by Caroline Angus Baker


  “Are you threatening him?”

  “I am, and I am threatening you, too. I’m sure you know what I want.”

  Canna nodded in agreement. “Yes, Guillermo, I would be interested in giving you my stake in Caraceni. I would like to walk away. I’m proud of being part of the Caraceni family, flaws and all. But I want a quiet life.”

  “Perhaps after Christmas we shall arrange everything. The festive season is going to be hard enough on its own. All it would take is one vote of no confidence from the board, and you would lose all your control.”

  “I realise that.”

  “So all we would need to do is come up with some kind of arrangement to ensure your silence.”

  “I’m going sailing in Australia, very soon.”

  “That sounds like a good idea,” Guillermo said with another smile of encouragement. “Time to be very far away from here.”

  A sharp knock and the door opened behind Guillermo. Canna’s assistant Francesca stood there in a flurry of tears. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” she blabbed.

  “What happened?” Canna asked, wiping away her own tears.

  “The police are here, something has happened. Something awful!”

  Canna and Guillermo stood up and two uniformed police officers came in, followed by Silvio. Oh God, what now?

  “The police need to speak to both of you,” Silvio explained to Canna and Guillermo. “It’s about Giorgio. This is Detective Alessi,” he pointed to a tall young man, “and Detective Capazzo,” a short middle-aged man, who both nodded hello.

  Francesca hurried from the room in tears and slammed the door. Canna took a moment to calm her nerves. She didn’t recognise either of the officers. “Please tell me you have caught the killer,” she said as Silvio sat next to Guillermo.

  “We have,” Detective Alessi said. “You may like to sit down.”

  Canna sat down and glanced at her lawyer. Most of the time, Silvio made sure she said nothing. The man was worth his weight in gold.

  “We have determined that the murderer of Giorgio Savelli is Giancarlo Antelli.”

  “Bullshit!” Canna yelled, and clapped a hand over her mouth for a second. “Sorry,” she muttered. “But no, that’s not right.”

  “Who?” Guillermo asked as he grasped the wooden arm of his chair.

  “Signore Antelli was the bodyguard for the Countess,” Detective Capazzo replied and gestured to Canna.

  “Was? He still is,” Canna replied.

  “Signore Antelli was found dead this morning.”

  Silvio reached across the desk and took Canna’s hand. “Catherine, I advise you not to say anything at this time.”

  “I don’t fucking believe it,” she replied. “That… no, he wouldn’t do that to Giorgio. Who killed Giancarlo?” The room began to spin.

  “The man who killed my son is dead?” Guillermo asked. “Are you absolutely sure?”

  “Giancarlo Antelli was found dead in his car this morning. It appears to be a suicide. He left a note addressed to you, Countess, along with a letter to his wife. His wife found the notes on his desk, and that her husband was missing, so she called the police. His car was picked up on the side of a quiet street about fifteen miles out of the city. He had shot himself in the face.”

  “How do you know he killed my boy?” Guillermo asked.

  Canna watched the man across the desk. Giorgio’s death had destroyed all the joy Guillermo’s life. The murder was risky and violent, and now Guillermo wouldn’t get any answers concerning Giorgio’s death.

  “Signore Antelli wrote a letter, confessing to several crimes.”

  Canna wondered which ones; Giancarlo had committed dozens of murders – not that sharing that information would do any good. She watched Guillermo look in her direction.

  “I swear, Guillermo, I knew nothing about this. Giuseppe and I have trusted Giancarlo for almost a decade. I suspected nothing.” Canna hoped he would believe her words.

  “I want to go home to my wife, and tell her this news,” Guillermo said stood up slowly. Silvio jumped up to help the frail man.

  “Of course, Signore, perhaps we could pass all the details onto your lawyers and we can discuss what happens next,” Detective Capazzo said.

  Guillermo shook hands with the two officers and walked around the large desk to Canna. She stood up and felt relieved when Guillermo kissed her cheek.

  “Leave here while you still can,” he whispered. “We can’t trust anyone anymore. The price of your safety, and the safety of your new husband is that you leave Milan and never return. You won’t get another cent from us. You are banished, unless you want to be held to account for your bodyguard’s actions.”

  Canna made eye contact with the man for a moment and nodded before he turned disappeared from the room. This was it; her chance to escape.

  “Catherine,” Silvio said as she fell back into her chair, “the detectives wish to ask a few questions about Giancarlo. I told them you couldn’t do that just moments after learning of your friend’s death.”

  “I’m not sure what to say.” Canna felt upset, confused, shattered. But so angry. Was it true? Had he hacked Giorgio to bits? Why? “Giancarlo wouldn’t kill himself. He loves his wife. They have two little girls, my god-daughters. I’m lost for words.”

  “Countess,” Detective Alessi probed, “we need to investigate the death, especially since Signore Antelli has confessed to an open murder case.”

  “My client is distraught,” Silvio raised his voice at the young officer. “Do you people have no compassion?”

  “Where is Detective Bassi?” Canna asked. “The man was so keen to arrest me not long ago.”

  “He is away on personal leave,” Detective Alessi replied.

  “He is suspended following allegations of corruption,” Silvio corrected the officer.

  Canna scoffed. “Wow, no surprises there.”

  “Countess, did you have any reason to suspect Giancarlo Antelli of the murder of your colleague?”

  “No comment,” Silvio interrupted.

  Canna raised her hand to her lawyer. “Please, I can speak. I want to speak. I had no reason to suspect him at any stage. The last thing I wanted was to have Giorgio die, and Giancarlo had nothing to do with Giorgio.” Well, not quite true, but close enough. “I can’t understand what motive Giancarlo would have. The men rarely came into contact. I don’t know what to tell you.”

  “Had you noticed any changes in Signore Antelli’s behaviour?” Detective Alessi asked.

  Canna squinted for a moment. “Ah, yes. He had become a bit argumentative and aggressive. Silvio could tell you that I had to reprimand Giancarlo on a flight back from London not long ago. He had started to do things of his own accord, well outside his powers as my bodyguard.”

  “Such as?” Detective Capazzo asked.

  “Such as trying to tell me what to do, and he punched my… my new husband in the face.”

  “That is a man named Claudio Ramos Ibáñez, correct?”

  “How do you know?”

  “Signore Antelli wrote a letter to you, Countess, and he talks about Claudio, and how this man drove him to suicide.”

  Silvio reached over the desk and grabbed Canna’s hand. “Don’t panic, okay? Claudio will never need to know about this.”

  “I’m not upset, I’m angry!” Canna cried. “Giancarlo can’t accuse Claudio, one of the most innocent people alive, of anything!”

  “Do you wish to see the letter that Signore Antelli wrote to you?” Detective Capazzo asked.

  “No!”

  “Giancarlo Antelli stated that the pair of you were involved in a good working relationship and had a good friendship, but after the death of your husband, Countess, he developed romantic feelings for you.”

  Canna shook her head. “I don’t believe it. There was never anything between us, never even the tiniest hint of anything other than friendship. He was more a brother than a lover.”

  “Yes, we believe so.” Detective Cap
azzo pulled out a notepad and checked his details. “He said that something changed after his boss, Giuseppe Savelli, died. Signore Antelli believed now that you were single, perhaps something could blossom between you both. He apologised for this in another letter to his wife, who is shocked over the incident. We interviewed her, and she suspected nothing, either. Signore Antelli wrote that he feared Yuri Dementyev wished to be sexually connected with you. We did suspect that perhaps Signore Antelli murdered Signore Dementyev, but records show him in Italy at the time of the murder. The Russian police didn’t turn up any suspects in that case. Perhaps Signore Antelli hired a hitman. We’ll never know.”

  “It may remain a mystery now.” God. Lying right to the police.

  “The suicide note alleges that, after the death of the Russian, Signore Antelli worried for your health and wellbeing, and proceeded to fall into love with you.”

  Canna scoffed. “After ten years as friends? I don’t believe you.”

  “Love is usually the biggest motive for murder,” Detective Alessi replied. “We see it every day.”

  “Don’t worry, Catherine,” Silvio said. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “Damn right! I never encouraged anything between me and Giancarlo!”

  “We believe that to be true,” Detective Capazzo said. “The confession letter states that Signore Antelli found proof that Giorgio Savelli was planning to have you killed. Signore Antelli broke into his office and kidnapped him, before shooting and dismembering him. He buried Signore Savelli near your boatyard because he knew the land wouldn’t be used for anything in the near future.”

  “And in the process, implicated me in the killing,” Canna added.

  “It seems that way.”

  “Giancarlo watched me be arrested, shamed, vilified for the death and said nothing!” Canna said with a vicious quality. “Bastard!” She thought of her arrest; Giancarlo had been saying sorry, over and over the whole time.

  “Signore Antelli seemed to think that killing Giorgio Savelli would eliminate the man as romantic competition. Antelli was preparing to leave his wife and be with you, Countess. A flash point came when he learned of your shotgun marriage to Claudio Ramos Ibáñez. Rather than kill Signore Ramos, Signore Antelli decided to end his life. His wife said that Signore Antelli came home from work last night in tears and refused to speak to her.”

  “Giancarlo drove Claudio and I to a dinner with the Prime Minister and then he disappeared,” Canna explained. “He was rude to us in the car and then I found he had left the event, and we drove back to the hotel ourselves. It was well out of character.”

  The detectives shared a look and Detective Capazzo made notes.

  “Is there a reason why you’re traumatising my client with these questions?” Silvio said. “Don’t you think the Countess has suffered enough?”

  “I apologise,” Detective Alessi said as his partner made notes. “We want to bring this to an end. Giorgio Savelli’s killer has been discovered, and the man is dead. There has been a lot of pressure over all this Caraceni mess.”

  “You’re talking to me about pressure?” Canna said and folded her arms.

  “Is this the last time you need to accost my client with questions?” Silvio asked. “My client has been waiting to leave Italy since her initial arrest.”

  “Why leave the country?”

  “Because she has recently married a Spanish man who resides in London and wishes to be with him.”

  Detective Alessi nodded. “We are aware you went to Madrid last week, Countess, so don’t pretend to be so innocent. The police are not questioning anyone else in regards to these latest developments. The confession letters from Giancarlo Antelli make the crimes and consequences clear-cut. The cases will be shut now.”

  “Then I shall ask you to leave my client to grieve in private.” Silvio stood up, and Canna sighed with relief. Lucky she had a lawyer who could end all this without any drama. She watched the man see the detectives out in silence.

  Canna leaned back in her seat and tried not to cry. She should have been upset – Giancarlo, her long-time friend, was dead. Instead, she felt pure hate. He destroyed their friendship, he murdered a man and destroyed his own family because of a stupid romantic infatuation. How could anyone forgive that? But, Canna, you killed Yuri. You are no better than Giancarlo.

  “Catherine,” Silvio said as he returned to the office. “Are you all right? Is there someone I can call for you?”

  “No.” Canna rubbed her tired face. “I just want this to end.”

  “This is the end. I will make sure.”

  “I need to send my upset assistant home to grieve and then go and see Perla Antelli. She must be a mess.”

  “You can’t visit Giancarlo’s wife. Her husband is dead, and she will blame you.”

  “I didn’t do anything!”

  “But since she is unable to blame her husband, you are the target. If Giancarlo didn’t work for you, fall in love with you, he and Perla could have been happy. Instead, she has lost her husband to suicide and he will be reviled as Giorgio’s murderer. The blame falls on you. It will be hard enough keeping the press at bay.”

  “I come away looking like a vile human being.” I am a vile human being.

  “If you want to leave for London, you can. In fact, I recommend it.”

  “Claudio left this morning after the incident at the police station.”

  “Jesus, if we could have shut up Dane Porter for one more day, that never would have happened.”

  “I’m paying for my sins. For the record, I never slept with Dane Porter in Helsinki.”

  “We could sue him for defamation.”

  “No, he will get his dues, one way or another.”

  “And Claudio? Is he all right?”

  “Nope.” Canna stood up and reached for her coat over the back of the chair. “Claudio isn’t all right, and neither am I. I’m not going to London, I’m heading to Sydney. I want to get as far away from here as possible.”

  “Image is everything, perception is reality. You may be seen as running scared.”

  “I am running scared. I’m grateful, Silvio, for everything. But Guillermo threatened me.”

  “You wouldn’t be the first.”

  “I need to leave Milan. I won’t be back.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, but if it stops the murdering, you need to go.”

  Canna pulled on her coat. “This is Contessa di Caraceni’s last goodbye.” Time to do something impulsive and stupid.

  CHAPTER 44

  LONDON

  As snow fell outside Claudio’s London home, he sat warm near the fireplace and stared at the television. Was it vain to watch the DVD of his Royal Albert Hall performance? It was amusing to see how it looked from a different perspective. Claudio could lie all he wanted; it was the behind-the-scenes footage he watched over and over. Whoever did the final editing must have liked the look of Canna. No matter how many times she tried to stay out of the way, the camera caught sight of her. Lea and Holly got interviewed, but Rebecca and Canna had tried to stay out of the way, which was a partial success for their efforts. There was Canna, with her mix of monotone New Zealand accent and Italian hand gestures, talking all about the rise of Virtuosi. She was all dressed up, watching the chaos of the red carpet walk. In another interview with Erik as he had his hair done, Canna could be seen in the mirror’s reflection. Another shot of her captivated Claudio, talking with Lea on stage.

  One more thing hurt more than losing Canna at that moment. Claudio would never sing for Virtuosi again. How could he? He couldn’t stand on stage with Dane and perform. They were due to rehearse a song for the Royal Christmas Jubilee in a few days, and he couldn’t face it. Claudio sent a message to Lea and announced he would be leaving Virtuosi, and of course, she and Henri would be furious. Erik would be too when he found out. Claudio’s switched off his phone so he didn’t get any angry messages.

  Claudio watched the photo montage on the DVD. Pho
tos from the European tour were there, along with the latest footage. He couldn’t help but smile at photos taken before he and Canna were a couple, but when he looked at shots of them together, their relationship seemed inevitable. One photo, and he couldn’t even pick which country they were in, they sat together on the stage and seemed to be going over the schedule. Canna was mid-sentence, and Claudio looked at her with all the hope in the world. He paused the television and just stared at the photo. Things seemed so much simpler back then, when Canna was an addict in a relationship with Dane. Claudio had suffered endless pain while she side-lined him for another man, and now things were much worse.

  Claudio knew where his wife had been for the last two weeks because of Google. News reports said Guillermo Savelli was taking over as CEO of Caraceni Industries. Contessa Catherine had been too distraught over the loss of Giorgio Savelli to carry on with her involvement in the company. The Countess had been absent from the high-profile funeral of the construction mogul, who had died execution style at the hands of the Countess’ bodyguard. Giancarlo Antelli had been blinded by infatuation for the Countess and taken the life of Giorgio Savelli, to have the young beauty to himself. There were rumours that Antelli may have arranged the murder of Yuri Dementyev for the same reason. The Countess had not been seen at the funeral of Giorgio or Giancarlo and was staying in Sydney.

  What a difference a hemisphere makes. The Australian media didn’t seem to give a shit that an Italian Countess was in town after being cleared of murder suspicions. Instead, all they reported was an Italian yacht being set up to challenge for the country’s biggest yacht race, the 628 nautical-mile Sydney to Hobart race. Claudio received trashy Italian tabloid links, and Australian sporting links about his wife every day, along with photos old and new. None gave any idea how Canna was coping on her own. She must have been devastated over the death of Giancarlo, but the rumours of a five million Euro cheque given to Giancarlo’s wife suggested a coldness to the situation.

  A little cry broke the self-pity and constant worry. Claudio looked over at the bassinet across the room, to see his son awake. He wandered over and watched the little boy look back at him and smile. Casamiro was seven weeks old and already had mastered the art of wriggling out of his swaddling blanket.

 

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