by Beate Boeker
Garini clenched his teeth. “Let me tell you one thing. I'm doing all I can to unearth clues that will clear Lucio. But every single thing I've learned so far pulls him deeper into it. I need to talk to him, need to get more details, particularly about his job. If I can't talk to him, I have no idea where to start.”
Emma stared at him. “What do you need to know?”
“First of all, I need the name and contact data of the headhunter who got him that job.”
She nodded. “I can give you that. I can look through his address book.”
“Second, I need to know if he validated purchase orders. I also need to learn about anything he's ever heard of his predecessor.”
She bit her lip, clearly having no answer to that one.
He sighed. “Look, Emma. Talk to him and tell him to come back. That's the best he can do.”
Her mouth trembled. “But if you … if you don't find out who did it, he'll end up in prison. And little Zoe won't have a father anymore …”
Benedetta turned to him. “We can tell Lucio to return to prison, Stefano. But you have to give us your word that you'll get him out of there as soon as possible.”
Garini choked. The responsibility engulfed him and pressed down upon his lungs. Yes, he believed in the justice of the system. And yes, he didn't think Lucio was guilty. But he had to deliver facts for the judge, and that's just what he didn't have. Innocent people had gone to prison before … he was well aware of that. If he told the Mantonis to bring Lucio back into captivity, they would hold him responsible for anything that happened. It was a big step, and he would never outlive it if it went wrong. It might even endanger his marriage to Carlina, who was so fiercely loyal to her family. He could even now feel her shoulders stiffening beneath his arm.
“It's not fair to ask Stefano for any guarantee.” Carlina's voice trembled. “After all, it's up to the judge to decide. You all know Stefano will do his very best to get Lucio out of the jam he got into. And his very best is a lot better than what anybody else out there can do. But still, he can't work miracles.”
Stefano pulled her closer.
Benedetta looked at Stefano, her eyes clear and wide. “I believe you can work miracles.”
He closed his eyes. Being a saint in the eyes of the Mantoni clan was even worse than being the enemy.
“Yiiiha!” Ernesto shouted. “Kabuki has crossed the finishing line! And he does like cheese!”
With a sigh, Garini turned around, ready to leave, but he didn't get far.
In the doorway stood Lucio.
Chapter 11
“I heard what you said, Stefano,” he said. “And it does make sense. But the chance to flee was too good. I … I felt this overwhelming need to see Emma and Zoe.”
Stefano's heart contracted.
“But I trust you.” Lucio held out his hands. “Do you want to handcuff me?”
“Good Lord, no!” Stefano gripped him by the shoulder. “I'll wait downstairs for you.”
He hurried from the kitchen, not willing to see the goodbyes or hear further beliefs in his abilities as a sorcerer.
Carlina followed him a minute later. Without a word, she ran into his arms and hugged him hard. “What a mess,” she murmured into his chest.
“You can say that again.” He burrowed his face into her fragrant hair. How would he feel if he knew he had to go to prison, maybe never to hold his wife in his arms again? “Maybe I should change my job.”
“Not yet.” Carlina gave him a grim little smile. “You first have to solve this case.”
He looked at her, his face grave. “I might not find the evidence we need.”
She nodded. “I know. But it can't be helped. We can only try.”
When Lucio came downstairs, pale and subdued, Garini personally drove him to the prison in Sollicciano. “I need to get in touch with the headhunter who gave you that job,” he said. “Can you tell me the name and address?”
Lucio shook his head. “It's no use.”
Garini threw him a sharp glance. “No use? Why?”
“I tried to contact him last week, when I was thinking about quitting. I wanted to hear his advice, ask him if maybe he had another job that would fit.”
“And?”
“And the line was out of service. I drove to the place where I got to know him, but they told me he'd only hired the office for a few days. It felt odd, so I searched him on the Internet. The website was down as well.”
“Can you remember his name?”
Lucio shook his head. “No, but Emma can look it up in my address book.” He gave a wry smile. “I like to have an old-fashioned address book and don't keep everything in my phone. Somehow, I find it easier to handle.” He turned his head. “That's bad news, isn't it? I mean that the headhunter disappeared like that?”
“I'm not sure. If he really worked as a headhunter, his invoice should still be in the bookkeeping files of Capomastro BB Top. In that case, we've got proof that you were lured to the job and also have proof that something fishy happened, because usually, a headhunter doesn't disappear from the face of the earth like this.”
“But what if there's no invoice?”
“Then we have two options – you made up the headhunter or they kept the headhunter a secret to avoid showing how they lured you into their business.”
Lucio balled his fists. “But why me? Why should they pick on me? I didn't know anybody in that company before.”
“Maybe they just looked for a young man with a new family.”
Lucio frowned. “I remember they mentioned family-friendly working times in the ad.” He snorted. “What a lie. But why should they do that?”
“Because young fathers are in need of money and feel more responsibility than a young man who has no family to support.” Garini changed gears. “About that ad. Where did you see it?”
“The headhunter sent it to me, after our initial talk on the phone.”
“Did you find it anywhere else, on some of the platforms where jobs are advertised?”
“No, but I didn't look.”
“Do you still have the ad?”
“Yes. Yes, I think I do. I printed it and put it on my desk.”
“Excellent. I'll ask Emma to give me a copy. Now about something else. You told me how little you did at your job. Did you ever validate purchase orders?”
Lucio didn't hesitate. “No, I didn't. I used to, at my old job, but at Capomastro, I was basically useless.”
“Did you have access to the system?”
“Yeah, they gave it to me on my very first day.”
Garini sighed. “How about your password? Did you share that with anyone?”
“No.”
“What was it?”
“Zoe.”
“Ouch.”
“What do you mean?”
“Didn't anybody ever tell you that you shouldn't use your kid’s name as a password? Besides, it's much too short.”
Lucio shrugged. “Nobody complained to me.”
“I bet they didn't.”
“Have you ever heard of your predecessor?”
“At Capomastro?” Lucio shook his head. “There wasn't one. My position was newly created.”
“There was a guy from Capomastro who died in the marmi, just before you came. Did nobody ever mention him?”
“Oh, him. Yes, I heard about him. An unfortunate accident, they said. But he wasn't really my predecessor. He was in the buying department or something.”
Garini sighed again. None of this was helping. He gripped Lucio's shoulder hard before he let him go. “I'll do everything I can to get to the bottom of the matter.”
Lucio clenched his teeth so hard, the muscles in his jaw bulged. “It's a nightmare. And I have no idea how it started. I keep trying to find out where exactly it all went wrong, but I can't pin it down.”
“Try to remember if you've ever heard anything strange or unusual at your job. That would help.”
Lucio only shook his head.
“I've done that. I had enough time. But it's no use.”
The words stayed with Stefano as he returned to the office. No use. They echoed inside him like an eerie sigh inside a vast vault. He had barely returned to his desk when his phone rang.
“It's me again, Amerigo Rossi.” The IT auditor sounded smug. “We're on the right trail. They're selling those hollow section and circular hollow section girders at a lower price than the ones that aren't completely closed.”
“Making a loss?”
“Yeah. Making a loss on every single piece.”
“I wonder why the customers never noticed. Or didn't they ask, as long as it was cheaper?”
“Actually, the closed girders might even create problems due to the additional weight. But Capomastro BB claimed it's a special promotion price. Or so it says on the invoice. Each time you see that position, it has a little note with 'special promo price'.”
“And nobody ever wondered why they could offer these fabulous prices?”
“You could always say it's because they still had stock left from another project that fell through.”
Garini sighed. “Yes, and besides, you don't need all that many steel girders. Just one of them can accommodate plenty of cocaine or other drugs.”
“True.”
“Have you learned when the next vessel will come in?”
“Tomorrow. We're ready to pounce onto it the second it touches shore.”
“Please keep me informed.”
“I sure will.” Amerigo Rossi sounded as if he was rubbing his hands. “Can't wait to let our dogs loose. But I think they'll also have marked the right girder in some way or other. We'll have a careful look.”
“Good luck.” With a sigh, Stefano said goodbye and hung up. He dropped his head into his hands and massaged his temples. It all fits. Everything points to Lucio, but for one little thing: They didn't count on me knowing Lucio as I do. A small voice inside him whispered: But do you really know him? How can you be so sure? He shook himself like a dog coming out of water. He wasn't here to draw the conclusions. He was here to find as many facts as possible, so the case would be complete and the judge could decide. Then again … he learned back and stared at the ceiling. Why not indulge in a flight of fancy? Why not start with the assumption that Lucio is innocent? What might have happened? There's a company smuggling drugs. They realize that things are getting a bit too hot for comfort, so they're setting up a fall guy. Enter Lucio. Somehow or other, they learn about the raid and plan to push Lucio onto the center of the stage. So they lure him to the club, give him a drink that's sure to knock him out and … and then? What happened then? Did Lucio get away by storming to the bathroom before the others could react, promptly disappearing from the face of the earth by losing consciousness in one of the private rooms? What would the company do now? Search for him? It must have been around 10 PM, a quarter past or so. If they had documents or drugs they wanted to plant on Lucio, it must have been an uncomfortable feeling. Theoretically, they might have known the raid wouldn't start until midnight. But even so, they ran a risk. After all, plans could change, so the raid might have come earlier than planned.
And how did Ambrosia fit in? If they knew she was leaking information, her murder might have been planned, and they might have planned to involve Lucio and –
He brought himself up short. But no. If they needed a fall guy, they needed him for the drugs. But to fill him up and to put him in a compromising murder situation on top of all the other clues they'd already installed at the office, that was almost too much of a good thing. Yes, that was the reason why he'd felt so uncomfortable all the time. It was too obvious. Too pat. The drug smugglers might consider the police to be stupid, but this was a bit much. So what was the alternative?
What if Ambrosia had been killed for some totally unrelated business, queering their pitch, as it were? Plans went awry from time to time, and the strangest coincidences happened, everyone knew that. Maybe he had to dig deeper into her history, just to cover all the bases. That was a job for Piedro. He called him to the office. “I want you to find out everything about Ambrosia Amore,” he said. “Dig deeper into her background, the village where she comes from, former boyfriends, current boyfriends, that sort of thing.”
Piedro blinked. “Why?”
“I think the answer is obvious. We have to make sure there's no other reason for her to be murdered.”
Piedro looked at him with something akin to pity.
Garini frowned. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I … hmm … I still don't see why we should do that.”
“Because it's normal to investigate the background of a victim?”
Another strange look. “Actually, I think we're wasting our time.”
“Excuse me?” This had never happened before. Piedro often didn't feel like doing his tasks, but he'd never argued that they were useless. Instead, he'd argued they were too difficult or too exhausting. This was different.
Piedro shrugged. “You see, all the evidence is at our fingertips. I discussed the case with my father, and he says it's crystal clear. He's just glad Sergio had already arrested the murderer before you could come and make things difficult.”
Garini could feel his blood pressure rising. “I'm not making things difficult. I'm trying to keep an open mind.”
“Yeah. Well, at some point, the evidence is what counts, right? That's what you always say. The evidence counts. Nothing else.” Piedro spread his hands. “I'm sorry it's someone from the Mantoni family. But it was bound to happen sooner or later, I mean, they're such a crazy lot.” He cocked his head to the side. “Why do you fight it?”
Speechless, Garini stared at him. He remembered the look the blonde doctor had given him, clearly humoring him when he'd asked to do more blood tests – and the embarrassment he'd felt when it turned out she'd been right and they didn't find any other substance in Lucio's blood but alcohol. Was he too blinded by his loyalty to the Mantonis to do his job? He shuddered. For an instant, he felt like dropping the whole thing. To hell with it. But then he saw Lucio's face as he'd said good-bye before returning to prison, and he straightened his back. “Humor me,” he said. “Go to that village and learn more.”
Piedro stared at him, alarmed. “Go to Umbria?”
“Yeah. It's just a few hours’ drive from here.”
“I won't go to Umbria!” Piedro flung himself back and shook his head with more vehemence than he'd ever shown before. “It's a waste of time and money, and I'm sure my father would agree.”
For an instant, the words stood between them like a drawn sword.
Garini stared at his subordinate. In the old days, you could order your employees to do something, and if they didn't want to follow through, bad luck for them. Nowadays, you had to convince them. Not easy with a guy whose mental processes worked like a single railway built in 1893. It would have been different if Piedro had had a single original idea in his mind. Then he could have asked him for his opinion and could have given him the room to go for it and find evidence to support his idea. But Piedro considered the case closed.
Garini swallowed. If you couldn't convince your employees, as a last resort, you could ask them to do it as a personal favor – which Piedro had just declined. So where were they? Where would this relationship go? He couldn't complain about Piedro to his boss, because that was his father. And Cervi had proven time and again that he preferred the easy solutions, the obvious and quick. Instead of helping him, Cervi would congratulate his son for standing up to his boss, would tell him he was a great guy and was saving police resources.
Garini took a calming breath. He only had one option to get rid of Piedro. Give him enough responsibility to show publicly that he couldn't do the job – in such a way that even Cervi couldn't close his eyes to it. But then, someone else would suffer. Someone like Lucio. And he, as Piedro's immediate boss, would also be held responsible. No, that wasn't an option. What else could he do? A friend of his had recen
tly told him how you got rid of people you couldn't fire in the corporate world. What was it again? Yes, now he recalled what the friend had recommended: 'Kick him upstairs, promote him away from your direct vicinity.' Garini swallowed. That was going to be painful because it meant he'd have to support Piedro as an equal. But at least, they would work on separate cases, so they would have less contact. Would it be too obvious if he started right away? No. Nothing was too obvious for Piedro. He bent forward. “You know what, Piedro. I feel you've much developed in the last few months. It's time to move on. Why don't you ask your father if he can lift you to the next level? Make you a commissario in your own rights?”
Piedro opened his eyes wide. “But that means I'd have to work more overtime.”
You bet. “Not necessarily.” Garini made an easy move with his hands. “If you're efficient and quick, you'll be on top of things. And consider the higher pay. And your status. Piedro Cervi, commissario of the Florence homicide department. How does that sound?
Piedro pursed his mouth. “I'm not sure I want all that stress. My father would constantly breathe down my neck.”
Heck, yes, he would. But better you than me. “You might try another city, so you'll be completely independent.” That would be perfect. Somewhere in Sicily, far away, with the sea as a barrier between us. No, that would be murder. Whatever Piedro had done, he didn't want to be responsible for killing him. “Bologna, for example. It's a great city for young people.”
“Bologna?” It sounded as if Garini had suggested the moon. Or Sicily.
“Whatever. Think about it, will you? And in the meantime, please write the report on the interviews we did so far.”
“The reports?” Piedro's eyes bulged. “But you always did that!”
“I know, but you need to prepare for your new responsibilities. Besides, I don't have the time right now. I've got to go to that village in Umbria.” He got up and left the room, his blood pulsing. Damn it all! Now he had to do everything by himself, and while he could justify sending an assistant on a wild goose chase that might or might not turn up something interesting, it was much harder to justify going in person when he had so many more pressing matters to deal with here. Again, he remembered the blood test that had brought no results, and the cool disdain in the doctor's eyes. He strode out of the office, pulled out his cell phone and called Carlina. He felt in need of her, felt the need to talk to someone sane.