by Beate Boeker
Ugo's face was white as he stared at the tiny woman in front of him. “I wanted to protect you.”
“Protect me?” Francesca shrieked loud enough to make the flimsy door rattle. “Of all the stupid notions! You are a coward! You didn't want to face any unpleasantness. Admit it!”
He looked at the floor. “I thought it would be easier . . .” his remaining words were lost in a mumble.
“Yes, of course! Easier! It's always easier not to tell the difficult truth, isn't it?” Her tone was scathing, the contempt unmistakable.
Ugo lifted his head. “You don't have to despise me! I really did it to protect you. You have to believe me! Even when you could have given me an alibi, I told nobody.”
Carlina gasped. “What alibi?”
Ugo lifted his manacled hands. “I didn't kill my mother! I don't know how often I have to say so! I was with Francesca all Monday afternoon.”
Francesca blinked, then she turned to Garini and said, in a stunned voice. “That's right. I was with him all the time.”
Carlina stared at Ugo. “You mean you . . . you bound me . . . and threatened me . . . all in a freakish moment of bad temper, and not because you had anything to hide?”
Ugo swallowed convulsively. “My mother always said I have a bit of a temper.”
Garini picked up Ugo's knife, slid behind Carlina and started to cut through the myriad of threads that held her to the chair.
Francesca looked at her friend. “Did that big brute kidnap you?” She turned back to Ugo and hissed at him like an angry cat.
Suddenly, Carlina smiled. “I hit my head when I stumbled over a pavement stone while racing after you. Ugo used the moment while I was unconscious to pick me up and bring me here. I think he hardly knew himself what he was doing.”
Garini saw the smile from the corner of his eyes as he bent forward to free her legs and shook his head. Trust Carlina to find something amusing in every situation. This time, though, he couldn't see the joke.
“But where?” Francesca looked bewildered. “Where did this happen?”
“Right in front of this building – I think.” Carlina looked at Garini. “Are we at Ugo's apartment?”
“Yes, we are.” He smiled up at her, relieved to see that she was back to her old self.
Carlina nodded. “That's what I thought. This must be Olga's wardrobe. It smells of her perfume.”
“But why were you down at the entrance of this building at all?” Francesca frowned.
Carlina shrugged. “When you ran away from Temptation to talk to Ugo, I was so worried that I couldn't stay at the store. I was not sure if you knew his temper, and I wanted to make sure that you were all right. So I drove to your home, and when you weren't there, I called Uncle Teo and asked for Ugo's address. That's how I found you, but you ran from the building without seeing me, and when I tried to chase after you, I slipped and hit my head.”
Garini shook his head.
Carlina saw it and said, “I really tried not to get myself into danger, Stefano. I promise. But I was so worried about Francesca.”
He looked up and smiled at her. For the moment, he couldn't be angry. He was too glad that she was fine after all she'd been through – and after all he had imagined.
She smiled back, and for an instant, everything else faded. They were together; they were not in danger; and they were meant for each other. The inner conviction about them belonging together was there, clearer than ever before, and suddenly, he knew without doubt that he would never leave Carlina, no matter what her crazy family would do next.
Francesca cleared her throat. “Em, do you think we can continue to talk now?”
II
Carlina snuggled against Garini as they went up to the door of the Mantoni family house on Via delle Pinzochere. It was dark already, but the heat of the day still stayed trapped between the old stone buildings. Carlina inhaled deeply, relishing Stefano's scent. How nice it felt to have his arm around her shoulders. She had never felt so close to him, so safe.
He had called in colleagues to escort Ugo to prison and had said that he first wanted to bring her home safely before returning to work and finishing the paperwork. Truth was, he couldn't bring himself to separate from her just yet, and he'd told her so as soon as they were alone.
“Do you really think that Ugo would have hurt me?” Carlina asked. “In the beginning, I was truly afraid, but after some time talking to him, I had the impression that he had acted in the heat of the moment, with nothing but a wild idea in his head that I was at the root of all his troubles with Francesca. However, when he ran out of steam, he suddenly had no idea anymore what to do with me.”
“I didn't want to wait to find out,” Garini said. “And what's all that about nickel?”
Carlina chuckled. “I gave him a lecture about European laws concerning the content of nickel in every-day products. A customer had reminded me of my allergy recently, and I read an article about it, not long ago, during a boring day at Temptation.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “A fascinating topic. No doubt Ugo enjoyed it.”
She shrugged. “It was all I could think of in the heat of the moment. And it worked. He calmed down, and I gained time.” With a happy sigh, Carlina leaned her head against his chest. “Ouch.”
He looked down at her. “What?”
“My head hurts. Do I have a bump on my forehead?”
He looked at her in the soft light that came from the old lamp above the door and gave her a crooked smile. “Yep. But it's kind of interesting.”
Carlina rolled her eyes. “I bet.”
He pulled her closer. “Now tell me why you had to laugh when Francesca appeared.”
She giggled. “Didn't you think it was funny? She came in like a fury, and he did everything she told him, like a lamb. Amazing, wasn't it? This huge man, ordered about by a tiny pixie.”
“I'm afraid this relationship is going nowhere, though.”
“No.” She sighed. “Francesca was clear enough when she told him in her parting words, and I think she's right. You can't stay with a man who explodes at any given minute without any self-restraint whatsoever. I just hope she'll find another boyfriend soon. Maybe I can help her somehow.” She mulled about this for a moment, then said. “She gave Ugo an alibi for the murder, though.”
“Yes, she did.”
Carlina lifted her head and tried to read Garini's expression in the uncertain light. “But we're back to square one now, aren't we? If Ugo didn't kill Olga . . . Does this mean that Mama will still have to go on trial for the murder?”
He shook his head. “No. She--”
Before he could continue, the door opened from the inside, and Fabbiola appeared in the door frame.
“Mama!” Carlina gasped, then hugged her mother. “You're free! That's fantastic! Oh, I'm so glad. But why? How come?” She turned to Garini. “How on earth did you manage to do this?”
Garini stared at Fabbiola as if she was a ghost. “I didn't.”
“You can say that again,” Fabbiola gave him a dark look. “You didn't have the time to come and get me out of prison, no, you left that job to someone else. Your boss told me that you preferred to deal with another project instead of releasing me immediately. I have to say that I resent that, particularly when you didn't lose a second to put me into prison.”
Carlina held up her hand. “Wait, Mama, you're not being fair! Stefano came just in the nick of time to release me. Ugo had kidnapped me and was threatening me with a knife. He was arrested less than an hour ago.”
“Ugo has been arrested?” Fabbiola looked gratified. “Good. About time, too. You should have done that ages ago. To me, it was clear from the start that he killed his mother.”
“Ugo did not kill his mother,” Garini said with all the air of someone fighting against windmills.
“Ptschah!” Fabbiola waved his words away. “Next you'll say that Olga killed herself. I've lost all my trust in your judgment, let me tell you that. If it wasn't
for that sweet boss of yours, I'd have spent yet another night in prison, though I'm totally innocent!” She pushed past them and started down the street in the direction of Santa Croce.
Carlina grabbed her sleeve. “Wait! Where are you going?”
“Out.” Fabbiola said with satisfaction. “I'm going out, walking the streets of my home town as a free citizen. The first thing I did when I came home was to take a looong shower in my own bathroom. That's what I missed most. You have no idea how dreadful it was in prison. It will forever be impressed upon my mind, will remain with me like a dark cloud and will persecute me in my dreams. Now, I'm going to give a prayer of thanks at Santa Croce that some people at least did all they could to release me, and then, I'm going to walk around town, enjoying the fresh air, my liberty, and the delicious feeling of being completely unwatched.” She sounded intoxicated by the idea. “Don't wait for me.” She skipped down the street.
Carlina and Stefano stared after her. Then Stefano took Carlina's hand. “It's true that we got proof this afternoon, so we could be almost one hundred percent sure that your mother didn't do the murder, but my 'sweet boss' asked me to double-check some details before releasing her. At that moment, I learned that you had been at the station, and the stupid receptionist had never even told me. I knew it had to be very important if you came to the police station in person and said it was urgent, so I decided to find you immediately, pushing all other matters aside. It seems that Cervi decided to release Fabbiola himself, so he could present himself in a good light.”
Carlina only heard part of that speech. “The receptionist didn't tell you? I thought you didn't want to see me. I was so hurt.”
He smiled at her. “How could you believe that? Don't you know me better?”
She lifted her arms and pulled him closer. “I guess I didn't. I won't make that mistake again.”
Chapter 13
HE KILLED HIS MOTHER FOR THE MONEY!
ARREST OF SON IN TOWER MURDER!
TOWER MURDER: IT WAS THE SON!
The next morning, the headlines of the newspapers didn't have any other topic, and the streets of Florence buzzed with the excitement about this new development in the Tower Murder.
Cervi burst into Garini's office together with a suffocating wave of too much aftershave and slapped the newspaper onto his desk. “Have you gone crazy, Garini?” he hissed. “We have gotten the clear proof that Olga Ottima killed herself, and you go ahead and arrest the son? And why don't I know anything about it? I'm supposed to be informed about every arrest you make! What if the mayor asks me about the case and I have to admit that I know nothing. Nothing! This is highly embarrassing!”
Garini met the gaze of his boss with as much patience as he could muster. “I did inform you immediately: I left a message both on your cell phone and here at the office last night, explaining the background and circumstances. I was not able to reach you otherwise.”
Cervi pressed his lips together. “I've not received anything! My cell phone ran out of power last night. Why didn't you send me an e-mail?”
Stefano suppressed a sigh. He had not sent an e-mail because he had planned to see Cervi personally the minute he arrived, but if he said so now, that would sound like a lame excuse. Better to attack instead. “I was surprised that you released Fabbiola Mantoni-Ashley last night.”
Cervi bristled. “What? Do I have to ask for your permission before I do so?”
Garini met his gaze straight on. “I take it the background check of the Japanese proved to be satisfactory?”
Cervi nodded. “Pristine.”
I don't believe a word. You decided you had to get out of a damning situation as best you could and tried to make amends, putting all the blame on me. “Lovely.” His voice was dry.
“Now look here, Garini,” Cervi sounded menacing. “I'm not responsible for my actions to you. So stop looking like this and rather tell me why you arrested the son for murder when it's clear that he could never have done it.”
“I didn't arrest him for his mother's murder.”
“What?” Cervi pointed at the newspaper. “And what are all the newspapers talking about, if I may ask?”
“They got the wrong end of the stick, as usual,” Garini said.
“The wrong end of the stick?” Cervi's face reddened. “What's that supposed to mean, eh?”
“I arrested him for wrongful deprivation of personal liberty and attempted assault.”
“What? When did he do that?”
“Yesterday afternoon. He kidnapped Carlina Ashley, bound her to a chair, and threatened her with a knife.”
Cervi's eyes bulged. “You're kidding me. Why on earth--?”
“Because she had told his girlfriend Francesca - who, incidentally, is one of Carlina's best friends - that his mother had died and, even worse, that his mother was Olga Ottima, who was something of an arch enemy of Francesca's family. Francesca ran to Ugo to express her disappointment about him not being quite open with her and left again in a hurry. Unfortunately, Carlina happened to be on the spot, and Ugo, in a rage, decided to take his fury out on her.”
Cervi shook his head. “Well, if you're asking me, you're making a sad muddle of this case. I'm washing my hands of it.” He turned on the spot and left the office.
Garini clenched his teeth. He had Ugo under arrest and Fabbiola free again, but that didn't get him any closer to Olga's murderer. He checked his mail and learned that the technicians could not find any proof of the video being a fake. Once again, he opened the link the Japanese had sent to him. Once again, he stared at the video. Olga had jumped all by herself. She was not killed; she had committed suicide. But why? Why? They all agreed that she had no reason to jump and that nothing could be further from her state of mind than killing herself. Could the video be a fraud after all?
He had an uneasy feeling about it all. Someone was leading him by the nose through this case, was piling up evidence where there wasn't any, was hiding the obvious truth from him by camouflaging it with loads of ballast. He groaned.
At this instant, the door opened again, and Gloria's voice preceded a man, though she herself did not appear. “This is Commissario Garini's office.”
Garini frowned and turned around. Gloria was not supposed to show in visitors without announcing them first. I bet she's still smarting because I told her never to send anybody away again. The thought barely made it through his head before he recognized the man who was now standing at the door: Olga's solicitor.
Signor Enterolazzi looked like an advertisement for the most expensive tailor in town. His suit was made of the finest cloth in dark-brown, combined with a vest that was finely covered with intricate flowers done in bronze and verdigris green. A little silk handkerchief peeped from his breast pocket, matching the flowers on the vest. When the solicitor lifted a hand to push back a carefully styled curl of his white hair, his bronze cuff links blinked in the office light. Underneath his left arm, he had a slim leather case with his name embossed in gold.
“Good morning, Signor Enterolazzi.”
“Good morning, Commissario.” It was clear that the solicitor had not come for small talk. He had a disapproving air about him without going so far as to frown. The corners of his mouth were tucked in, and his lips were slightly pursed. “You promised to inform me whenever something new would happen that involves Olga Ottima's son.”
Garini nodded. “You're right. However, I hardly had the time to inform you. Won't you take a seat?” He motioned at the chair next to the table.
“Grazie.” Enterolazzi pulled a large handkerchief from his pocket, placed it on the chair with exaggerated care, and finally sat down with the expression of someone who had to overcome a feeling of disgust. “However, you found the time to inform the newspapers.” The reproach in the soft voice was unmistakable.
“I didn't inform the newspapers.”
The solicitor opened his eyes wide. “So it's a hoax? Ugo wasn't arrested?”
“He was.” Garini stopp
ed speaking and allowed the silence to lengthen. He wasn't prepared to volunteer any more information. Enterolazzi had come for a reason, and he first wanted to learn what it was. It had to be something momentous to make him overcome his obvious distaste for the dusty police station.
Enterolazzi stared ahead as if doing an internal battle, then looked at Garini with a sharp gaze. “Is Ugo going to be released soon?”
“I shouldn't think so.” In front of his inner eye, he saw Carlina's arms again, the marks on her soft skin made by the tight twine. Oh, no. If he had his way, Ugo would stay in prison for a very long time.
“In that case, my duty is clear.” Enterolazzi opened the slim leather case and pulled out a long envelope. “This is for you.”
Chapter 14
I
Garini took the envelope and turned it in his hands. Heavy, handmade paper, a red seal. No name, no note. “How do you know this is for me?”
“Because you're the investigating officer in Olga Ottima's death.”
“Who sends this?”
“Olga Ottima.”
Garini's hands sank, and he looked at the solicitor with raised eyebrows. “From beyond the grave, I don't doubt?”
“No.” The corners of Enterolazzi's mouth disappeared again in disapproval. “She gave this letter to me with the strict instruction to only hand it over in case her son should be arrested by the police.”
Garini stared at him. “When was that?”
“A week before her death.”
“A week before--?” Garini broke off. In his mind, the video played again, the one that showed how Olga waited until Fabbiola had emerged on the platform before she jumped to death by her own, free will. “She planned it all,” he said.
Enterolazzi inclined his head. “It seems like it.”
“But why?”
“Maybe the letter will explain.”
“You don't know the contents?”