by Beate Boeker
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Epilogue
About the Author
Contact Beate
Cozy Mysteries by Beate Boeker
Contemporary Romances by Beate Boeker
TRICKY DEATH
Temptation in Florence #8
Beate Boeker
Tricky Death
Temptation in Florence #8
by Beate Boeker
Edition I
Copyright © 2019 Beate Boeker
License Notes
This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Cover by Susan Coils
Editing by Gina Ardito
Words in Italian are written in Italics and follow Italian spelling rules.
Chapter 1
The door bell penetrated her dreams with shrill insistence. Carlina jerked wide awake and jumped out of bed before she had all her wits together, propelled by only one thought. “Something happened to mamma!” Her gut reaction was natural. If the door bell rang in the middle of the night, it had to be a catastrophe, and if it was a catastrophe, it was only logical that her mother should be in the thick of it.
Her naked feet hit the terracotta tiles. She didn't feel the cold of the April night, but rising too fast made her circulation give way, and for a moment, she had to grab the edge of the sideboard to steady herself. Her head spun, and little stars exploded in front of her eyes.
The door bell sounded again.
Carlina winced and only realized at this moment something she should have seen right away. Her husband, Stefano, wasn't in the room. Had he been even quicker than she, his instincts honed by all the years in the homicide department of the Florentine police force? Or had he left the apartment for some reason and forgotten the keys? She grabbed a robe, threw it on, and made for the door. In passing, she noted the time. 2:15 in the morning. Ugh.
She was still in the hall when she heard the front door open, and Stefano's soothing voice. So the problem had to be mamma after all. She hurried to the door and stopped in her tracks when she saw Stefano in his pajama trousers, holding the door open for her cousin, Emma.
Emma's usually immaculate hairdo was all over the place, tears streamed down her face, and she clutched her baby as if someone wanted to wrench the child away.
“Emma!” Wide awake now, Carlina started forward. “Is something wrong with little Zoe?”
“Oh, no.” Emma gave a loud wail. “It's Lucio. He's left me.”
Carlina threw a startled glance at Stefano. “Nonsense. Lucio adores you. You haven't even been married for two years.”
Emma hiccuped. “He doesn't adore me anymore. He … he …”
“Why don't you first come in?” Stefano put a soothing hand on Emma's shoulder and gently drew her inside, then closed the door behind her. “It's cold, and you need to sit down.”
Carlina gave him a grateful look. He always managed to remain calm and unruffled, even if her family had hysteric fits. Tonight they had reached a new level, though. So far, the Mantonis had never exploded into their apartment in the middle of the night.
She picked up her favorite blanket with the faux leopard fur and draped it around Emma's shoulders. Then she gave her a tissue, sat next to her, and patted her knee while trying to catch a glimpse of the baby. Little Zoe's face was hardly visible in the wrap, but she seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Carlina sighed in relief, then turned to her cousin. “Now tell us.”
Stefano sat across from them and listened with all his keen intelligence focused on Emma.
“I … I don't know where to start.” Emma hiccuped again.
“Start at the beginning.” Stefano's voice was calm. “Then go on until you reach the end.”
“The beginning.” Emma's face twisted. “I think the beginning was Zoe's birth.”
“Yes?”
“Well, you know, it really shocked Lucio. The birth, I mean. The pain and everything. When it was over, he said he never wanted me to go through the experience again.”
Carlina swallowed. “It's because he was so worried for you. He loves you so much, and it wasn't an easy birth.”
Emma closed her eyes. “That's what I thought at first, too, and I thought it was sweet of him. But then, Zoe started to have her … her fits.” She lifted a tragic gaze to them. “Why does she have to cry every night from five to nine?”
Carlina felt uncomfortable. She was no expert on babies, and she'd heard little Zoe's wails even through the thick walls of the neighboring house. The Mantoni family had already started to discuss remedies for little Zoe with as much passion and controversy as could be expected of them. “They say it'll stop when she's three months old.”
“But it's only been three weeks, and I'm going out of my mind already!” Emma's face crunched up. “You have no idea what it's like. And now, Lucio has gone, and I'm left all alone with her.”
“Why do you think Lucio has left you?” Garini's voice was calm.
“Because … because he hasn't come home tonight.”
Carlina sat up straight. “But that's no reason to believe he's left you. He might have had an accident!”
“No.” Emma shook her head and swallowed. “I feel it. He's left me. I saw the signs.”
“What signs?” Carlina stared at her cousin, willing her to explain. An accident was much more likely, and she felt they should be calling the hospitals now instead of sitting around and wailing.
“He … he kept telling me he had to work late.”
“But that's not always a sign of a husband who's unfaithful.” Carlina drew both hands through her curls. “He did start a new job just a few weeks before Zoe's birth, so of course he has to establish himself and make sure he makes a good impression.”
Emma shook her head. “He doesn't have to stay until midnight.”
“Some business dinners may take that long.” Garini's voice sounded even.
Carlina smiled at him. He looked decidedly sexy with his rumpled hair and his naked torso. His pajama trousers were made of dark-blue silk, a gift from her lingerie store, Temptation. They didn't look bad at all, even if she said so herself. She wrenched her errant thoughts away from her husband and concentrated on Emma.
“They're not business dinners!” Emma's voice became louder, and little Zoe whimpered. Emma gave her a distracted kiss. “He told me he had to go to nightclubs with his prospective customers. At least twice a week!”
“To nightclubs? To do business?” Carlina blinked.
“Yes. Not likely, is it? And then, when Zoe was born, he suddenly had to work even longer, and he's hardly at home anymore.” The tears started to fall again. “And … and I'm so out of sh
ape, and I'm not pretty anymore, and now, he'll leave us and …” She broke down in sobs.
Carlina put an arm around her and hugged her. “Oh, darling, you're still gorgeous. Don't worry. And of course, life changes once a baby arrives, but I'm sure he adores you both. Why, when he's at home, he holds Zoe and carries her around all the time, and the look in his eyes is indescribable, so full of tenderness and love.”
“But he's not at home anymore! Aren’t you listening? He leaves for work at eight in the morning, grumpy and unfriendly, and he doesn't come back until midnight, exhausted, and even grumpier. But he's never been as late as this before, and two o'clock in the morning is the limit. I don't believe in his concocted stories anymore. Customers at midnight! Twice a week! Ha! He's got to tell me the truth now. I'll have it out, even if it breaks my heart!” She glanced at her daughter. “I'd never have thought our marriage could unravel as fast as this, and I thought having a baby would be wonderful. Of course it's magic, but it's also utterly exhausting, and so, so very difficult.”
Carlina hardly recognized her cousin. Emma had always been sure of her worth, her beauty, and absolutely focused on everything she wanted. It wasn't at all like her to fall apart, but then, she'd never been through so many sleepless nights before, and probably her hormones were mixed into a dangerous cocktail that made her touchy and unhappy. “Don't jump to conclusions, Emma.” It sounded weak, even to her own ears. “Let's focus on finding Lucio first. I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation.”
Stefano got up. “Let me call the station. If there was an accident, they're bound to know.”
Emma sniffed. “Maybe I'm a widow already.”
“Emma, stop!” Carlina gave her a little shake. “Don't paint the walls black! I'll make you a tisana, herbal tea, to calm you down.” She got up and went to the kitchen. Through the open door, she saw Stefano picking up the phone. He gave a reassuring smile to Emma, then followed Carlina into the kitchen, closing the door gently behind him. A moment later, he spoke into the phone. “Gloria, it's Stefano Garini.”
“Stefano! How come you're calling me in the middle of the night? You're not out, are you?” Her voice was as loud as a trumpet, filling the quiet kitchen like a fanfare.
Carlina could hear every word.
“No, I'm at home, but I'm concerned about a … a cousin of mine.”
Carlina smiled to herself. Lucio had married into the Mantoni family just like Stefano, so they weren't related by blood at all, but it felt good to see that Stefano considered them as relatives.
Stefano clenched the phone between his ear and his shoulder and started to prepare a cup of coffee. “Do you have any reports on accidents tonight?”
“Some. Do you want me to read the names?”
“I'm looking for Lucio Casanuova. Could you check if there's anything on him?”
“Sure!” Gloria trilled with all the efficiency of a happy bird. “Let me just open this file. You know, it's a real pleasure to hear your voice out of the blue, like this. You hardly ever talk to me during the day, you know. Always so busy.”
Stefano rolled his eyes and didn't reply.
“But of course you're a married man now.” Gloria sighed with all the gustiness of a desert storm.
Carlina switched the water kettle on and shook her head.
“Exactly.” Stefano's voice was dry. “And my wife is very concerned about her cousin, so if you could just check the files, I'd be grateful.”
“No hurry, no hurry. You know our computer systems, they're not the quickest. Ahhh, here they are. Let me see …” She started to murmur indistinguishable names. “Did you say Lucio? We have a Lucio here. A car crash.”
Carlina fixed an anxious gaze onto Stefano.
He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. “His name is Lucio Casanuova.”
“That's not him, then. His name is Lucio Dalla. Funny, like the singer. But he died in 2012, the singer, I mean, so it can't be him.”
Carlina gritted her teeth.
“Is there any other information that might relate to the Lucio I'm looking for?” Garini still sounded calm.
“No, nothing at all. That is … let me just pull up this other file. Would be a shame if we missed something. So, is everything all right on your end? Nasty night tonight, isn't it? Way too cold for April. I can't wait for spring to really come. In fact, I'm planning to buy new flowers for my balcony, and –“ She broke off, and the atmosphere changed from being frothy and frilly to ominous. “Did you say Lucio Casanuova?” Her voice sounded different, terse.
“Yes.”
Carlina huddled closer against Stefano, her cheek against his chest. The steady beating of his heart was soothing, even though it accelerated now.
“Lucio Casanuova, with a C?”
“Yes.” Stefano spoke through clenched teeth.
“I'm sorry.” Gloria swallowed so hard, they could hear it through the phone. “He's in prison.”
Chapter 2
Stefano felt Carlina wince at his side. He stared at the door. Thank God he'd thought of closing it. It would take some supreme diplomacy to give this bit of information to Emma. “On what charge?” His voice was sharp.
Gloria swallowed again. “Murder.”
Stefano and Carlina exchanged an incredulous look.
Stefano frowned. “It must have been absolutely obvious if they took him straight away to prison.”
“The file doesn't really give any details. It was only entered … let me see … two minutes ago.”
“Who is assigned to this case?” His questions came hard and sharp, like bullets.
“Sergio Marasi.”
Stefano gave a sigh of relief. Sergio was his colleague, and he knew he could rely on him. Better yet, Sergio already was officially in charge, and nobody could come up with the idea of assigning the case to him. This was the first time a Mantoni-connected case passed him by. Thank God. “Good. I'll call him directly.”
“You do that. See you tomorrow.”
He disconnected the phone and stared at Carlina.
The kettle started to whistle. As if in a trance, Carlina turned, carefully inserted a tea bag into a mug, and poured the steaming water on top. An aromatic fragrance spiraled up. Carlina took a deep breath. “Will you drink your coffee before you rush off?”
He looked at his wife with a smile. Trust Carlina not to become hysterical. How had she ever managed to turn out so normal, with that crazy Mantoni family background? “I'll drink it, but first, I've got to call Sergio.” While talking, he already punched in the numbers.
Sergio answered at the first ring. “Pronto!”
“It's Stefano Garini. Sorry for disturbing you in the middle of the night.”
“No problem, Stefano. I'm on a case anyway.” Sergio's wheezing breath gave the impression that he stood in a gale.
“I know. I'm calling because we're missing a Mantoni family member, and Gloria told me you'd just put him in prison.”
“Lucio Casanuova is a Mantoni?” Now Sergio sounded horrified.
“He's married to one, and she's my wife's cousin.”
Sergio made an explosive sound. “Porca miseria.”
“My feelings exactly.” Stefano gave his colleague a moment to digest the bad news, then he asked, “What happened?”
The gale augmented to a tornado as Sergio drew breath and slowly expelled it again. “I'd rather tell you in person.”
Stefano frowned. That didn't sound good. “I've got his wife and my own here, and they're both frantic. Can't you give me some details at least?”
“You'd better come here.”
Stefano recognized that voice. While Sergio was one of the gentlest of men, he could also turn exceedingly stubborn. “All right. I'm on my way.”
He disconnected the call, put the phone on the counter, and looked at Carlina. “Did you hear?”
“No. There seemed to be a lot of wind, and I couldn't make out the words in all that rushing sound.”
“
Sergio doesn't want to tell me what's going on. I've got to go down to the station.”
“Right now?”
“Yes.” He took his cup of coffee and gulped it down.
She closed her eyes. “Not good.”
“No.”
“Thank you for going there though it's the middle of the night. I appreciate it.” She picked up the mug and cradled it in both hands. “I guess I can't join you?”
“You guess right. Besides, it's better if you stay here with Emma.”
“Yes, of course.” Her eyes widened. “Oh, gosh, how do we tell Emma?”
“We'll just tell her I have to go to the police station to find out more. No sense making her more nervous than she already is.”
“She might prefer to know Lucio got involved in murder as opposed to thinking he's with a mistress.”
Stefano inclined his head. “Really? Must be a Mantoni thing, then.”
She smiled. “No. I find it quite comprehensible.”
“Why?”
“Because it's possible to get involved in a murder investigation by pure chance. It's not necessarily anything you do by choice. But you don't happen to have a lover by chance. That's something you actively choose, and so it's potentially more damaging to a marriage.”
“I see.” He shook his head. “I'd never have looked at it from that point of view. You know what? I'll let you decide how you treat her. You've got more experience.”
She nodded and slowly opened the door. “All right.”
Emma had curled up on the couch, little Zoe in the crook of her arm. Both were in a deep sleep.
“Good.” Stefano bent forward to breathe a kiss onto Carlina's cheek. “Try to get some rest, too. I'll come back as soon as I can.”
He dressed in a hurra and left the apartment without a sound. Any remains of sleeplessness he might have felt were blown away by the sharp April wind outside. This year, summer seemed to be slow in coming. His motorbike sounded louder than usual when he started it. With a roar, it raced down the Via delle Pinzochere. He turned right onto the Piazza di Santa Croce, past the marble statue of Dante Aligheri, who gathered his marble coat in one hand as if grateful for its warmth. At this time of night, Florence was asleep, so it didn't take him long to reach the police station. Shivering, he ran inside, waved at Gloria at reception, and hurried upstairs to Sergio's office. “Now, tell me.”