He seemed unmoved by her pleading, picking up his pace until he was towering over her. She jumped over the bed and ran to the door, trying desperately to open it. Instead of chasing after her, he simply opened the desk drawer, took out the pen and paper and wrote something down.
He put the notepad on the bed and gestured for her to read it. She stayed by the door until she realised that with no way to escape, she would have to comply, so she moved slowly towards the note.
‘I won’t harm you if you don’t scream,’ it said in messy Italian handwriting. ‘There is food for you in the bag.’
She felt her body relax slightly. He watched her read what he had written and then walked towards the door. Now that he was crossing to her side of the room, she jumped back over the bed and stood there waiting to see what he would do next.
He took out his keys and unlocked the door, and once again she was overwhelmed with panic. Would he lock her indefinitely in that room? To what end? What if whatever food was in the bag was supposed to be rationed to last her for a week? Longer?
‘When will you let me go?’ she said as he stepped out the door.
He stopped briefly and made eye contact. It seemed as if he wanted to say something but thought better of it. She took in his eyes for the first time. She had to be observant; she needed to remember the smallest details so that when she escaped, the police could catch him. They were a muddy brown and there was something in them that she hadn’t expected. Shame. Regret. Pity. Guilt. She couldn’t be sure.
When he failed to answer, Emily looked at him, pleading with her eyes, but he turned his head away now, not wanting to meet her gaze. And then he shut the door behind him, locking her alone again in the claustrophobic room.
MARCO
The night passed in a blur. Sarah and I lay awake as the hours ticked by, staring at the ceiling, watching the clock turn, waiting anxiously for any new developments. Now it was early morning and I was sitting outside the villa, staring at the lake, trying to form a single clear thought. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, so the sun beat down on the water, making the ripples on the surface look like diamonds. Diamonds. That’s what started this whole nightmare. I rubbed the stubble on my chin. What was it going to take to break this nightmarish run of events? It started with the necklace, so that was the only way it would end. Sarah had to regain her memory. I had a gut feeling that in the two hours of lost time – between her leaving the lab and having the accident – there was a crucial clue to what happened to the necklace.
Sarah and I made our careers out of analysing things that were tangible, studying what was buried deep beneath the surface. The concept of memory loss, however, was a complex one. Memory was intangible. You couldn’t hold it in your hands and compartmentalise it into ordered segments, neatly placed in drawers that you could pull out at will. If you lost a fragment, you lost the whole. We were the sum of our history. To forget your past was to forget yourself.
Sarah had only forgotten a portion of time but it was enough of a break in the chain to cause everything else to fall apart. I had become increasingly fearful that she wasn’t going to regain her memory after all. So, I had lied to Sarah and Daniel, and the police. I didn’t mention the necklace in the press conference as a slip of the tongue. It was deliberate. If Sarah wasn’t going to remember, I could only hope that someone out there knew what happened to the necklace, which is why I had seized the opportunity to appeal to the public.
Suddenly, in the quiet, I heard the burst of photos taken in quick succession, jolting me from my thoughts. I looked around until I noticed that beyond the fence surrounding the property was a camera with a long lens poised in my direction. Anger simmered at the intrusion of my privacy. I stood up quickly, turned on my heels and rushed inside. I should have known better. The media was everywhere. I still couldn’t get used to their presence, nor the fact that our every move was being scrutinised. I could already imagine that they had snapped photos of me looking forlorn, deep in thought, and that the headline could swing either side of the pendulum. DISTRAUGHT FATHER BEGS FOR DAUGHTER’S RETURN, or on the opposite spectrum: FATHER A POTENTIAL SUSPECT IN DAUGHTER’S DISAPPEARANCE.
The press were vultures. I had long craved media attention, so it seemed like a cruel irony that I finally had what I wanted but for all the wrong reasons.
Two members of the carabinieri requested an interview with me. They were in the midst of setting up a confidential space in one of the ground floor rooms, so in the meantime they wanted somewhere private to talk. We went upstairs to the fourth unused bedroom. They closed the door behind them. I sat on the bed and they pulled up two chairs by the window and faced me. I was relieved that Vittoria wasn’t with them. There was something about that woman that made me edgy. I was more comfortable talking to two men.
‘I’m Captain Palazzo and this is Lieutenant Fallaci. We need to ask you some questions,’ Captain Palazzo said. I shifted uncomfortably. Perhaps reading my unease, he added, ‘This is just standard procedure, Doctor Moretti.’
‘Of course.’ I tried to relax, tried not to consider this an interrogation, tried not to acknowledge that they were looking at me like a suspect. I just wanted to get it over with so they could focus their attention elsewhere.
He placed a recorder on the bed beside me and hit record.
They asked me to recount again what had happened the night we found the necklace, the details of my conference and what I was doing at the exact time Emily was taken. They probed me about my work, whether I had any enemies and if threats had ever been made against me. It felt like they were dissecting every aspect of my life. Then they got personal.
‘Tell us about your marriage,’ Captain Palazzo asked curtly.
I subconsciously looked to the door as if it was going to swing open and Sarah would walk in at any moment. ‘What would you like to know?’
‘Are there any issues?’
‘No, not at all. We have a happy marriage. We’ve been married for nearly twenty-two years.’ I didn’t know what else to say. Captain Palazzo peered at me silently, as if waiting for me to continue. I wondered if this was a technique they used. The silence. It was so uncomfortable that you wanted to fill it in, and maybe that’s when people divulged more than they should. ‘Sarah is a wonderful woman. I am a very lucky man,’ I added, feeling like I needed to say more.
‘You’re Italian. She’s Australian. Are there any disputes that arise from your, let’s say, cultural differences? Perhaps when it comes to things like bringing up your children?’
‘Our differences complement each other. If anything, it has strengthened our relationship. We’ve done our best to ensure that Daniel and Emily are enriched by our diverse backgrounds. They’re bilingual and are dual passport holders. They’ve travelled the world with us. We’ve lived in various parts of Europe and they regularly visit Sarah’s parents in Australia.’
The investigator put his pen down and eyed me sharply. ‘Do you love your wife, Marco?’ he asked, bluntly.
‘Of course.’ I said it so quickly that I knew my response had caught their attention. I kept telling myself to be natural and relaxed but they seemed to know exactly what buttons to push.
Lieutenant Fallaci clasped his hands and rested them on his knee. Then he released them and stared unflinchingly into my eyes as he asked his first question. ‘Are you having an affair, Doctor Moretti?’
‘That’s an outrageous suggestion,’ I snapped and stood upright, feeling my jaw tighten. I didn’t know anything about reading body language but surely mine reeked of guilt. I saw them take in my sudden tenseness.
‘Look, Marco,’ Lieutenant Fallaci said, using a milder approach but still watching me closely, ‘this investigation may uncover a lot of things. It’s best if you’re honest with us. About everything. So, is there anything you want to tell us?’
That was the very question I’d been dreading. I considered coming clean about my affair, but what if Sarah found out? What if the media got wind
of it? I knew how it would look. Infidelity would instantly make me appear a dishonest man and everyone would be quick to judge. ‘No, there’s nothing I have to hide.’
‘What about your wife? Do you think she could be having an affair?’
The question caught me off guard. I’d never entertained the idea. I could feel heat rising in my cheeks. The thought of her with another man was infuriating. But then, what a hypocrite I was. They were obviously trying to wind me up. I swallowed and assured myself that it wasn’t possible. Sarah adored me. ‘No, of course not,’ I said firmly.
‘Are you sure? Sometimes it’s hard to see the signs.’
‘We live and work together. We’re practically with each other every hour of the day. I’d know if my wife was having an affair.’ As I said it, I realised that if I was so certain that I would know if Sarah was cheating on me, surely the same applied to her. ‘Look,’ I added firmly, ‘we have a loving marriage. I don’t see how any of this is relevant.’
‘Given the necklace’s disappearance, your wife’s car accident and your daughter’s abduction, we can’t leave any stone unturned.’ Captain Palazzo looked back down at his notepad. ‘Okay, let’s go back to the night of the car accident. You left the lab at midnight in a separate car to your wife. She left at the same time. And then you went to the petrol station before you went home. Is that right?’
‘Yes, that’s correct.’
‘And the petrol station you went to was an Esso station on Via Bersaglio.’
I nodded.
He put his notepad down and stared impassively at me. ‘You see, Marco, something isn’t adding up. We got the CCTV from that petrol station and your car never made it there on the night of Sarah’s accident. The footage, however, does show your car entering the following day. The attendant said you paid in cash.’ His gaze was so strong that it felt like his eyes were burning a hole through my forehead. ‘It looks to us, Professor Moretti, that you are not telling the truth.’
I started to pace around the room. The detectives knew they had me in a corner. I had to come clean.
‘So, we will ask you again. Is there anything you want to tell us?’
I faced the window and sighed. ‘Yes, there is.’ I exhaled heavily. ‘I am having an affair,’ I said so softly it was almost a whisper. I couldn’t see their faces but I could almost feel them grinning behind me as if they had known they would catch me out. I turned around now and sat back down, feeling like a small child about to be punished for bad behaviour. ‘I went to see my mistress on the way home from the lab that night. That’s why I lied and said I had gone to the petrol station,’ I admitted, looking down. ‘I should have said something earlier; I just didn’t see how it was relevant to the case. And the last thing I want is Sarah any more upset than she is already. I was just trying to protect her.’ As I said it, I realised how pathetic I must have sounded. There I was proclaiming that I lied to protect my wife when the very thing I was lying about was what would hurt her. ‘You’re not going to tell Sarah, are you?’
‘We are not here to break up a marriage,’ Captain Palazzo said bluntly. ‘We are here to find your daughter. And though these questions may seem personal, any bit of information might be the key to leading us to her captor. To that end, we need to know who the woman is.’
I wanted to say as little as possible about her. ‘Her name is Sofia Gatti. She works with us.’
‘Does Sofia know Emily?’
‘Yes she does. Sofia is very fond of my daughter. Emily has often come to our excavation site and she looks up to Sofia like a big sister.’
‘A big sister,’ Lieutenant Fallaci repeated, raising an eyebrow with almost mocking disdain.
‘Sofia is twenty-eight,’ I said. My cheeks reddened and again I felt like slapping myself. I just kept digging this hole deeper and deeper. Now not only had I admitted to an affair but to having one with a woman who was closer in age to my son than she was to me.
Captain Palazzo rested a hand under his dimpled chin. ‘So, let’s go back to that night. When you got to Sofia’s place, did you tell her you had found the necklace, or even show it to her, perhaps?’
‘No, I didn’t,’ I lied.
‘So, why did you go there?’
I looked down at my hands, embarrassed. ‘I often went there at night.’
He kept his eyes on me, which only served to fuel my shame. ‘And you definitely didn’t say anything to her?’ When I said nothing, he continued. ‘I’ll be honest, Marco, that seems odd given the elation you must have been experiencing. I mean, it was the greatest discovery of your entire career.’
I started digging at my cuticles with my nails. ‘I was going to tell her in the morning, with the rest of the team. I wanted it to be a big reveal.’
Captain Palazzo clasped his hands together and clicked his knuckles. ‘You have a young mistress. Your wife nearly dies in a car accident. And a necklace worth one hundred and fifty million euros then goes missing. Do you see the link here, Marco?’
I’d largely kept myself together until that moment, but now I stood up. ‘Are you insinuating that I tried to kill my wife so I could steal the necklace and run off with my mistress?’ My voice was sharp and fiery. I couldn’t keep my anger at bay. ‘How dare you make such a preposterous accusation!’
Again, they stayed silent, waiting for me to go on so they could catch me out. ‘This is stronzate,’ I snapped.
They remained unmoved by my angry outburst and, if anything, seemed to consider it a small win for them.
‘Professor Moretti, we’re simply doing our jobs and investigating every possible scenario.’
I faced them now. ‘Tell me then, in that ridiculous scenario, how my daughter getting kidnapped fits in?’
‘You’re right. It doesn’t,’ Lieutenant Fallaci said in a frustratingly calm voice. ‘But there is another possible motive … If you did tell Sofia about the necklace, she could perhaps want it for herself.’
The insinuation made me speechless.
‘How did you say you met Sofia?’ he asked innocently.
‘She had read my thesis on the San Gennaro necklace,’ I said matter-of-factly. ‘She approached me after a guest lecture at her university and begged to work on the excavation of Vincivoli Castle.’
The detectives exchanged knowing glances. ‘Has it ever crossed your mind that she deliberately sought you out? I mean, no offence, Professor, but you are quite a bit older than her. Could she perhaps have seduced you in the hope that you would find the necklace?’ He studies me with a sort of amused expression as he waits for the penny to drop. ‘It seems awfully convenient that you find the world’s most valuable jewel, you go see her that night, and the next morning it’s gone. But I guess we’re off the mark, because you didn’t tell her about the necklace, did you?’
I felt a flush of nausea. Of course there was truth to what they were saying. Up until then, I’d done my best to push the possibility of Sofia being involved to the back of my mind. I’d confronted her already and when I did, my instinct had been resolute: she’d given me her word that she didn’t so much as whisper a word about our finding the valuable antiquity, and I trusted her. Or at least I thought I did. But yet, I couldn’t deny the facts. She was the only other person who knew we had found the necklace. She had full access to the lab and she knew the code to the safe. What did I really know about her? She was frustratingly secretive about her personal life. She gave nothing away. I had wondered many times what a woman as beautiful as her saw in someone like me. In my moments of self-doubt, I’d told myself that I was fit for my age and that women seemed to find me attractive, and that perhaps she was one of those young women who preferred older men, intellectuals.
I scanned my memories of my time with her, trying to think if she had ever behaved suspiciously, but nothing out of the ordinary came to mind. I traced my thoughts back to the night I found the necklace. Had she asked me where I had locked the necklace overnight? I didn’t think she had but I couldn’
t remember for sure. I snapped out of my ruminations and looked up to see them watching me closely. They obviously knew they’d hit a weak spot.
‘I see what you’re getting at. But there’s a hole in that theory as well,’ I said, thinking aloud. ‘It still doesn’t explain why someone would kidnap my daughter. And I know with certainty that Sofia would never do anything to harm Emily.’ I glanced at the time. ‘It’s been over an hour. Surely, you have more important things to do – like finding my daughter,’ I snapped.
They stood up. ‘Thank you for your time, Professor. If we have any more questions, we’ll let you know.’
‘I’m sure you will,’ I said bitterly.
When they walked out of the room, I felt mentally drained. The detectives had given me their word that they wouldn’t mention my affair to Sarah, but by admitting it aloud, I felt like it was out in the open.
I had a sudden rush of distrust towards Sofia, which I hoped was simply a sort of delirium from having my life microscopically examined. Yet, the police had planted the seed of suspicion and now I couldn’t stop it from growing in my mind like a weed.
I needed to find out the truth, and to do that I had to speak to Sofia in person as soon as I could. There was no way for me to leave now and go to Florence to confront Sofia, so I would have to convince her to come to Lake Como. My gut feeling was that she would never have carried out what they had insinuated. But I knew firsthand that sometimes it was the people you trusted most who were capable of the greatest deceits.
MARCO
Sofia was on her way. I’d bought her train tickets and booked accommodation at a luxury hotel on the outskirts of Como. I told Sarah and the police that I was going into town to hire a car for us, which was true. To give myself extra time, I’d said that while I was there I was going to see a doctor so I could get a new prescription for my blood-pressure pills that were about to run out.
The Perfect Couple Page 21