Tricky Death

by Beate Boeker

  “Yes.” It was a quiet word, confident.

  “Why?”

  The mop trembled. “I … she had a sweet nose.”

  Garini blinked. “Define a sweet nose, please.”

  “Short and a bit upturned at the end.”

  Garini hid a smile. “I see. Then let's hope you'll find her.” He pulled out a notebook and took down some notes. “Let's continue. How about Ambrosia? Did you see her last night?”

  “Yeah. The girls had the right to get two free drinks every night. That was part of their paycheck. Ambrosia usually came to the bar and chatted with me when she had a break.”

  “Just with you? Or also with your colleague? What's his name again? Filippo?”

  Tonio nodded. “Yeah, Filippo. No, she always came to me, even if Filippo was at the bar.” He grinned. “She might have developed a small affection for me. She even told me about her dreams to leave the bar. That's how I knew she might be approachable, so I told my boss, and they managed to draw her in as a spy.”

  “Did she say what she wanted to do when she left the bar?”

  Tonio shook his head. “No. I think she hadn't planned that far ahead. Yet.”

  “And last night? Was she just as usual?”

  “Absolutely. She wasn't any different, not happier, not glum or anything like that.”

  “Did she mention any rats?”

  The mop made a sharp upward movement. “Rats? Is that a code word I don't know?”

  “No. It's a word to describe a rodent with a long tail.”

  Tonio lifted his hair and peered out beneath it. “You’re serious? Why should she talk about rats?”

  “Later in the night, she saw one. It scared her.”

  “You don't mean a human rat?”

  Garini hesitated. “I shouldn't think so. From what I heard, it must have been a real rat.”

  Tonio dropped the hair. “Never saw one. Never heard about one. I don't think the club had a problem with rats at all.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Did you notice Ambrosia's … customers last night? Who she retired with?”

  Tonio shook his head. “No. They were very discreet, those girls. Sort of melted into the background with the guys. There's a hallway that leads to the bathrooms as well as the secret rooms, but it wasn't well lit, on purpose, of course. From my place at the bar, I could hardly make it out, particularly if the club was packed.”

  “When did you see her for the last time?”

  Tonio frowned. “She usually tried to take a break around ten.”

  “Isn't that kind of early? If the club only opens at nine?”

  “Oh, the girls often started earlier, using only the back rooms. Some guys like to meet up right after work, you know, to be home in time for dinner.”

  Stefano didn't want to think about that one. “So you saw her for the last time around ten?”

  “Yeah. Ten past, something like that.”

  “Where did she go?”

  “Toward the back, where there’s access to the bathrooms and secret rooms.”

  This corresponds to Lucio's story. If she opened the door to the extra room and saw the rat, she might have run into Lucio, who was just coming out of the bathroom. But what happened then? “All right. So we know she was still alive at around ten.”

  The mop gave assent. “What did the doctor say?”

  “The first estimation told us she must have been dead for two to three hours. She was found at a quarter to one.”

  “That would fit.”

  “Yes.” Garini scribbled some more notes into his book. Then he leaned back. “Was there anything else unusual about that evening?”

  Tonio nodded. “Yes. There was a woman with a baby.”

  Chapter 6

  Garini felt as if someone had shot an electric current through him. “A woman with a baby?” He hardly trusted his voice. “What did she look like?”

  “Distraught. Not dressed for the club.”

  “Dark or blonde? Small, fat?” Please, let her have been tiny and fat and blonde, the very opposite of Emma.

  “Tall and slim and dark.”

  Damn.

  “At first, I didn't notice the baby. I told you I was on the lookout for anything unusual, and when she came in, I just thought her style didn't fit. She was a looker, but she wasn't made up, and the shawl around her shoulders seemed a bit too voluminous for the current fashion trends – or so my sisters would say.”

  “Had she ever been there before?”

  “Not to my knowledge. She walked around the room, looking for someone, but she kept her arms in front of her body as if she wanted to protect herself. At first, that puzzled me, but then, I recognized the gesture. My eldest sister had a baby a year ago, and she looked just like that when she went out and didn't feel it was safe enough for her baby.”

  Garini nodded. “Did she come to the bar?”

  “Yes. She ordered a Diet Coke and drank it in one big gulp. When I asked her if she wanted another one, she asked me if there were other rooms within the club.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I knew there were secret rooms, but by then, I'd gotten a pretty clear idea of what was going on. It was obvious she was a mother, looking for the father of her child, ready to make a scene. It was not what I wanted, on the night of the raid. Besides, I'd had clear instructions to always be dumb, see nothing, know nothing. So I said no. She nodded and left.”

  “Did she go into the direction of the exit or of the secret rooms?”

  “She asked for the bathroom.”

  Which is in the same direction as the secret rooms. Drat.

  “At what time was that?”

  Tonio shook his mop. “I … I think she came in just after I'd given Ambrosia her drink.”

  “So it must have been shortly after ten?”

  “Yes.”

  She must have just missed Lucio on his way to the bathroom. Garini shuddered at the thought of what would have happened if Emma had found Lucio. But maybe she had found him – in the arms of Ambrosia … and killed her in a fit? Wouldn't she rather have killed Lucio – or didn't it matter who she hit in the fury of the moment? Where did she get the knife? He had to find out more about that knife. In any case, this didn't explain the alcohol poisoning. How did Lucio get the alcohol poisoning if he'd just enjoyed himself with a prostitute and was found out by his wife? Stefano swallowed hard. “Can you recall when exactly the woman with the baby went in the direction of the bathroom? This might be important, so think hard.”

  Tonio's mop didn't move. “Let me see. As I said, she came around ten and had that Coke. Ambrosia, who was sitting two seats away from her, finished her drink right then, and went in the direction of the bathroom. The woman with the baby stayed at the bar for some time, scanning the room like a tiger looking for prey.”

  “How long did she stay there?”

  “Maybe fifteen minutes, twenty at most.”

  “That would make it ten-thirty or thereabouts.” Stefano felt sick. That put Emma right on the spot at the crucial time, when Lucio claimed he had lost consciousness.

  “Yes.”

  “Did she tell you who she was looking for?”

  “No.”

  “She didn't show you a picture, either?”

  “No.”

  Garini pulled out his wallet and opened it. He still kept the old picture of Emma and Carlina on Emma's wedding day. Next to it, he also had one of himself and Carlina on their own wedding day, but this, he slid deeper into the folds. Instead, he pulled out the one of Emma and Carlina. “Was it one of these two women?”

  Tonio took the picture with one hand and inserted it beneath the mop. “Wow,” he breathed. “They always say you're really sharp in the homicide department, but I had no idea how good you are. Just one move, and you've got it all at your fingertips. This is her.” The picture appeared again, and the long index finger pointed at Emma. “So she only got married recently?”

  Garini briefly clos
ed his eyes. “About a year and a half ago.”

  “Nasty for a young mother.” Tonio shook his head. “I hope she found her husband.”

  Garini pulled out a photo of Lucio he had printed from the Internet last night during his discussion with Sergio. “Do you recognize this man?”

  “Yes. One of the regulars, always with a crowd. Are you telling me this is the husband?”

  “Yes.” For the moment, Garini preferred to keep all other information to himself. First, he needed to learn more from this Hungarian sheep-dog-turned-human with the sharp eyes. “How did he strike you?”

  “That man?” Tonio scratched his mane. “He was a bit unusual.”

  Garini's heartbeat accelerated. “In what way?”

  “Well, he went through all the motions like the other guests, but I always had the impression he didn't really enjoy himself. Several times, he also asked for watered-down whiskey, which is unusual, to say the least.”

  “Why do you think he did that?”

  Tonio shrugged. “It's pretty obvious, isn't it? To keep a cool head on his shoulders. I watched him interacting with the others in the group, and it seemed he was the newbie there, eager to please. Well, if you're not sure of your environment, you want to stay sober enough to stay on your toes. Only makes sense. Besides, he made sure nobody was listening when he asked for the watered-down drink.”

  “Did you do what he wanted?”

  “Sure did.”

  Garini recalled Lucio's words. He had been under the impression that the whiskey had not been watered down at all. How typical this was when you talked to two witnesses.

  “So you had the impression he didn't feel safe?”

  “Yeah. He kept looking at the door, as if longing to get away.”

  “Hmm. You've heard all the details about the result of the raid, I take it?”

  The mop sank a bit lower. “You mean that Ambrosia died?”

  “No. I mean that someone was already arrested for her murder. The man who held Ambrosia Amore in his arms, the one who was dead drunk, and whose fingerprints were on the knife – that was Lucio Casanuova.” Stefano pointed at Lucio's picture. “Him.”

  Tonio lifted his overwhelming fringe with a quick movement and stared out of wide opened eyes at Stefano. Apparently, that was his standard reaction when surprised. “You're kidding.”

  “Why does this surprise you so much?”

  “I wouldn't have pegged him as a killer.”

  “Why not?”

  Tonio let the mop fall again. “Not enough swagger.”

  It sounded strange, so worldly-wise from such a young man. “Have you had lots of experience with killers?” He asked it in a level voice, so Tonio wouldn't become defensive.

  Tonio shrugged. “I've watched them.”

  And you don't miss much. Stefano nodded slowly. “Is there anything else you noticed last night, anything unusual?”

  Tonio slowly shook his head. “No. I've racked my brain, but that's it. The girl with the flour and the woman with the baby. Those two stand out. The rest was business as usual.”

  Garini looked at his notes. “I've tried to make a little timetable. Would you have a look and tell me if you agree? The woman with the baby is called Emma, and for want of a better name, I've called the girl with the flour the Flour Girl.” He used the English expression.

  Tonio laughed. “Sounds like Flower Girl.”

  Garini smiled. “Yes.” He studied his notes for a moment. “When did the Flour Girl return from the bathroom?”

  “I really couldn't say.”

  “Was the woman with the baby still at the bar?”

  Tonio frowned. Then he said, “No. Now that you mention it, they actually crossed each other. The Flour Girl came back just as the woman with the baby got up to go to the bathrooms.”

  “Good.” Garini scribbled it down. “Oh, one more thing. You mention that Lucio Casanuova always arrived with a group of people.”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you recall when they left?”

  Tonio drew a deep breath. “Not sure. You see, they mostly paired up with the girls and disappeared, one by one.”

  “Lucio told me he went to the bathroom around ten o'clock. Were they still sitting around that table for some time after Lucio left?”

  “Yeah, they were. I'm pretty sure of that. You see, there are special pole dance shows going on every night, and the first ends at ten-thirty. Most guys wait for it to finish before they, hmm, turn to the next attraction.”

  “So you would say the group stayed at the table until ten-thirty?”

  “Possibly. But I can't guarantee that, as the table wasn't close to the bar. For example, this man, Lucio. I didn't see him leave.”

  “No. But he told me the time, and though I know it's not corroborated yet, it seems the schedule of the evening might have been like this.” Garini made one last entry. “Have a look, but keep in mind that we have to place a question mark after most of these times.” He pushed the notebook toward Tonio, who immediately bent over it.

  TIMETABLE

  09:30 PM: Flour Girl arrives

  09:45 PM: Lucio arrives with his colleagues

  10:00 PM: Ambrosia comes to bar to get a drink

  around 10 PM: Lucio goes to bathroom

  around 10 PM: Flour Girl goes to bathroom – stays away a long time

  around 10:10 PM: Emma arrives, has a drink at the bar

  around the same time, 10:10 PM: Ambrosia leaves the bar

  10:15 PM: Ambrosia barrels into Lucio in front of bathroom

  10:25 PM: Emma leaves the bar, goes into the direction of the bathroom

  10:25 PM: Flour Girl returns to bar

  10:45 PM: Flour Girl leaves the club

  some time after 10:30 PM: Lucio's colleagues leave (individually, not as a group)

  00:00 midnight: raid

  00:45 AM: Ambrosia's body is found

  Tonio lifted a hand and pushed the mop out of his eyes. His gaze was sharp as he looked at Garini. “The information on this list that you didn't get from me came straight from the suspect?”

  “Yes.” It was a pleasure to work with someone so intelligent. “And as I said, I'm taking this list with a grain of salt. We now have to find as much corroboration as possible, and most important of all, we have to find out if anyone saw Ambrosia alive after she collided with Lucio.”

  “The fact that she ran into him is not corroborated.”

  “That's true. Neither are any of your statements.”

  For an instant, the light eyes stared at him with a shocked expression. Then the mop fell. “Quite right.”

  Garini studied the list once more. “There are way too many people on their way to and from the bathroom around ten o'clock, and that seems to be the crucial time. Are you sure the flour girl did go at that time? Not a bit later or earlier?”

  Tonio shrugged. “I wouldn't swear to it. I think she left while Ambrosia was still sitting at the bar, but you know how it is. The more you think about it, the more blurry things become.”

  “Yes, I know. You've helped us tremendously. Thank you very much for sharing all this information with me.” Garini leaned back in his chair and looked at the mop. “What about your department? Have you already planned your next steps?”

  The mop shook itself with a violent move. “Not really. I'll stay on at the club for the next two weeks, mainly to make sure I don't look suspicious. Maybe the flour girl will come back.” His voice sounded hopeful. “But otherwise, we're at a dead end. We had big hopes of finding the key person, and now, with Ambrosia dead, and the whole gang on high alert, we'll have difficulties making any progress at all. I'll have to go back and discuss what to do best.”

  “All right.” Stefano got up. “Let's stay in touch. I'll keep you updated if I learn anything, and you'll update me if you should discover any clue about the murder.”

  “Will do. And I'll send you the list of people who were detained after the raid yesterday.” Tonio got up and
stretched out his hand. “And this won't get into the reports?”

  “Not yet.”

  When Tonio had gone, Stefano stretched and yawned. What next? He couldn't get to the flour girl until they knew who she was. He'd have to start with Lucio's boss and colleagues. He called his assistant Piedro and asked him to meet him at the office of the company Capomastro BB Top where Lucio had worked. He didn't feel like working with Piedro. In recent weeks, he'd become more and more arrogant, though heaven knew why. However, as Piedro also happened to be the son of his boss, Cervi, he hadn't yet hit upon a clever scheme to put him in his place.

  With a sigh, he got up and opened the window to let in some of the moist April air. A Vespa roared past, and the exhaust wafted up to his office. He closed the window again, turned back to his computer and opened his e-mails. To his delight, Tonio had already sent him the list of people who were registered during the raid. There was no Bianco Brillo listed. So the boss of Lucio's company had left the club before the raid. Good to know.

  He went out to meet Piedro, and then they drove to the office of Bianco Brillo. The company was situated in the industrial area north of Florence called “Firenze Nova,” in the Via de Perfetti Ricasoli. The building was a standard concrete block, surrounded by an iron fence. Next to the glass doors that formed the entrance, someone had placed a few terracotta pots with shivering oleander plants. It all looked perfectly ordinary. Garini was sure he'd seen hundreds of similar offices in Italy. During the drive, he'd briefed Piedro about the case. They went inside and were situated in a meeting room by an efficient secretary. The grey desk offered room for at least fifteen people, and the chairs were made of pink plastic, creating a surprising design effect. It smelled of lemon detergent.

  “Strange choice of furniture,” Piedro said and dropped into one of the pink chairs.

  “These chairs are Charles Eames design chairs,” Stefano said. “Each costs roughly four hundred Euros. I didn't know they'd ever been made in pink. Maybe it was a special order.”

  Piedro blinked. “Four hundred Euros for this pink stuff? Crazy.” He stretched. “But they're comfortable.”

  “That's one of the reasons why they're so popular.” Stefano looked at Piedro . “What does the furniture choice tell you?”