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Tricky Death

Page 14

by Beate Boeker


  She picked up immediately. “Ciao, my love, hold on a second, will you?”

  There was a muffled sound, as if she'd pressed the phone against her shoulder to mute the sound, then he heard her shout. “Stop it! Calm down, everyone! Emma, pick up Kabuki and put him in that basket over there. Then drive him to the vet, and take Uncle Teo along. Benedetta can stay with little Zoe. Don't waste any time!” She took a deep breath, then returned to the phone. “Sorry about that. Here I am.”

  “What on earth is happening?”

  “Kabuki has eaten a white flower that Ernesto bought today at the market for his girlfriend. Nora wasn't pleased.”

  “I can easily understand that. But why is it a reason to fall into panic?”

  “Because Benedetta said it might be poisonous for guinea pigs. With Gracy on maternity leave, Aunt Violetta really needs the two remaining guinea pigs so she can enter them into the races. She's frantic about Kabuki.”

  “If she waits another week or two, the peperoncini will be able to enter the races as well. Guinea pigs grow up real quick. And I doubt Kabuki will come to harm. His stomach should be used to unusual food. ” Garini listed to himself in surprise, waffling on about guinea pigs. He didn't want to be embroiled in the Mantoni schemes. He didn't care one whit about Aunt Violetta's business venture or about the guinea pigs. Not one whit!

  Carlina giggled. “You should have seen little Kabuki, looking oh so innocent, with bits of the white rose sticking out of his tiny mouth. When I still lived in the US, I had a friend who talked about the meaning of flowers all the time.” She quoted in English. “A white flower is for innocence,” then she continued in Italian, “and she always said it was the perfect flower for a blind date.”

  Chapter 12

  Garini caught his breath, suddenly understanding. A white flower. And Ilaria Marino, the baker's daughter, had misunderstood her date on the phone, not being a native speaker, and with her mind on the product she used all day long. She'd brought white flour to the meeting instead of a white flower. No wonder her date hadn't recognized her. No wonder it had been totally harmless stuff instead of the drugs they had expected. He started to laugh. “This is priceless.” Quickly, he told Carlina how the pieces fit in.

  Carlina laughed. “Oh, the pitfalls of international exchanges. Well, it's good that you've got one thing cleared up.”

  “More or less. I still need to find out why someone was so keen to get to know her.”

  “But didn't you already deduce that it was due to the cellar and the possible connection to the club?”

  “Yeah, but I'd love to know for sure. And I really want to know who instigated the whole thing.”

  “Do you think it's in connection to the murder?”

  He hesitated. “I'm not sure. In any case, it would be nice to understand at least some part of the story, for a change.”

  “I'm so sorry.” She sounded contrite. “And my family has made it worse. I really had no idea they planned Lucio's flight. You know that, don't you? They had sense enough not to involve me because they knew I would never have supported them.”

  “Yeah, I know. Don't worry.”

  Carlina lapsed into silence, then she said, “Anyway, why did you call?”

  Garini shook his head, trying to remember. “Oh, I just wanted to tell you that I'm going to kill Piedro some time soon.”

  “Oh, dear. What has he done now?”

  “He has decided Lucio is guilty and refuses to work on the assignments I've given him, claiming it's a waste of time and police resources.”

  “What?” Carlina fairly shouted it into the phone. “You're kidding me.”

  “No. And I can't do anything because Cervi would, of course, take the same line.”

  “So what did you do?”

  “I told him he needed to be promoted, trying to kick him up the ladder, you know, preferably in another town, and then, I gave him the reports to do.”

  She chuckled. “He must have loved that.”

  “Oh, yes. And I'm free to investigate a remote village in the wild hope that something gives.”

  “Well, good luck with that. When will you be home?”

  “Soon. I'm exhausted and frustrated and need a bit of a break.”

  “I'll wait for you.”

  Her last words resonated inside him when he hung up. How comforting to know Carlina would wait for him. It was nice to be married, to have someone to call when you were up against a wall. Just these few minutes had helped him a lot. And he would have to buy some salad for Kabuki. Such an intelligent animal, eating that white flower as if he'd known it was a red herring. He squared his shoulders and returned to the office, where he searched the Internet for the home town of Rosetta Rana alias Ambrosia Amore. She came from Sant'Arcangelo close to the Trasimeno Lake in Umbria. If you came from a town with the name of Holy Archangel, becoming a prostitute was somewhat ironic. Sant'Arcangelo belonged to the municipality of Magione, like roughly twenty-five other little hamlets in the area. He frowned. If he called the police in Magione, it wasn't likely that they would know Rosetta Rana, one girl from one of the twenty-five villages flung all around the area. No, he had a much better chance of learning something if he called the priest.

  Bless the Internet! One quick search told him there was a Badia di Sant'Arcangelo, a Benedictine abbey, and even if it wasn't in use anymore but had been sold and converted into apartments, the church and a priest remained. Two calls, and he had the priest on the phone. When he'd presented himself, Garini said, “I'm looking for information about a young woman named Rosetta Rana. She's from your area, and I wondered if you know her.”

  “Rosetta Rana – but of course. She sang in the choir. A quiet girl.”

  “Can you tell me anything about her background?”

  “It wasn't easy for her, I'm afraid. Her mother died when she was still young. The father married again, and they had another child, a boy. The boy was always the mother's favorite.”

  Dimly, Garini remembered Ambrosia had told her roommates about a stepbrother she didn't like.

  The priest cleared his throat. “Why did you call me? Is she in trouble?”

  “I'm afraid she's dead.”

  “Dead?” The priest sounded shocked. “So young and dead? Was it an accident?”

  “No. She was stabbed.”

  “May God have mercy on her.” The priest took a minute to assimilate the news.

  “I'm trying to find her murderer, and of course, I need to go into her background. Can you tell me anything else about her and her family? Even if it doesn't seem important?”

  “You won't find the murderer here, commissario. This is a quiet village, and everybody knows everybody.”

  “That's not always a protection against murder.” Garini's voice was dry.

  “Maybe so. But we've never had a murder here before, and I've been a priest in Sant'Arcangelo for over twenty-five years. Never, commissario. You'd better look in Florence. That's where she went, didn't she? She told me.”

  “How about her friends? Former boyfriends? Other people who liked her or disliked her?”

  The priest cleared his throat. “I'm really not sure. She was at the choir when she was twelve or thirteen. Later, she didn't come anymore, and I didn't follow her development, I'm afraid. I can't recall any close friends. She seemed to keep to herself.”

  “Can you give me the address of her family? Maybe I'll find something helpful if I talk to them.”

  “No, I'm sorry.” The priest sounded firm.

  “If it's a matter of data privacy, I can provide all the necessary files and –“

  “That's not the problem, my son. There's no one left. Rosaria's stepmother and her father died two months ago. It was tragic.”

  “What did they die of?”

  “They went out in a boat on the lago di Trasimeno and got caught in a storm. She went overboard. He was brought ashore, but he only lived for another day, then he died as well.”

  Garini frowned.<
br />
  “It was a real shock for the whole village. That storm came up as a surprise, nobody had seen it coming.” He sighed. “And Rosaria didn't return for the funeral. I found that very sad.”

  “What about the stepbrother? He's still alive, isn't he?”

  “Oh, yes. But he left town soon after the funeral, and nobody knows where he went.”

  “What's his name?”

  The priest fell silent.

  “Padre?”

  “Yes, yes, I hear you. But I honestly can't recall … he never came to church, you know. And he kept his father's surname, while his mother called herself Rana. Well, you can't blame a young man if he doesn't want to change his name to frog.”

  “What about his first name?”

  “Everyone called him Sluppo.”

  “Sluppo? Sounds weird.”

  “The kids made it up when he was small. You know what, let me ask around. I'll get that name, and I'll come back to you. Is that all right?”

  “Perfectly all right.” Garini gave his phone number to the priest and hung up. Thank God he had called before traveling down. It would have wasted way too much time to go down there and learn next to nothing.

  His head full of bits and pieces that didn't tally, he went home. Unable to stomach the family and their continued focus on guinea pigs, combined with reproaches why Lucio wasn't free, he spontaneously took Carlina out to dinner, and they enjoyed an evening free of any other Mantonis and free of crime.

  The next morning, he got an early call from the drug squad. “Commissario, it's Tonio. We've just had the results from the container.” His voice was jubilant.

  “So they did contain the drugs?”

  “Yeah. The parcels were fixed with an ingenious magnetic system deep inside the closed steel girders. Without your research, we'd never have gotten to the bottom of this.”

  “It wasn't my doing. We were lucky our IT specialist, Amerigo Rossi, knew so much about steel.”

  “But still – you made us check them out. We already have the one who's authorized all the purchases, this Lucio Casanuova.”

  Stefano's stomach contracted.

  “But we also managed to catch Bianco Brillo, just before he got onto his private plane. Do you want to come and talk to him?”

  “You bet I do.” Garini threw down the receiver and hurried over to the drug squad's offices. They were in via Alessandro Manzoni, only a short drive away. The drug squad was housed in a typical Florentine townhouse in ocher with wooden shutters in dark-green. Garini crossed the delapidated garden and was surprised to find Tonio waiting on the stone steps.

  “Thank you for coming immediately.” Tonio opened the intricately carved wooden door wide and allowed him to go through first. “Mind that iron support.”

  Garini saw it just in time to veer to the side. The heavy iron pillar was right in the middle of the hallway. Tonio led him toward a broad staircase with a massive wooden balustrade. “The building badly needs to be renovated and is falling about our ears, but you know how it is with public funds.” He shrugged. “They never do anything. Instead, they install more and more of these pillars, until crossing the building feels like an obstacle course.”

  Garini nodded and followed him, stumbling on the steps.

  “Sorry, forgot to say that. The steps are irregular, because they're so old. We've all of us fallen up or down numerous times. But here we are. You don't have to risk any more limbs.”

  He flung open the door to a spacious interview room with four rickety chairs and an old table. Bianco Brillo was already waiting inside, together with a sleek man with mirrored sunglasses.

  To Garini's surprise, Bianco Brillo still behaved like Ernie in Sesame Street. He jumped up with all the energy of a rubber ball and rushed towards him with outstretched hands. “My dear commissario! So we do meet again so very soon, alas, in circumstances that I cannot like. And the room is lacking in comfort.” He threw a look at Tonio. “You should keep your premises in better order, my lad. Maybe I can support you somehow, so you can give this place a lick of paint and some new furniture?”

  In spite of everything, Garini had to bite back a smile. What a shame he couldn't see Tonio's face because of all that hair. “Signor Brillo.” He gave him a nod. “May I know, who's the other gentleman?”

  “Of course, of course! This is Romeo Avarti, my wonderful friend and lawyer.”

  The wonderful friend and lawyer had crossed his arms and planted his feet wide. He looked more like a bodyguard – and an intimidating one at that – than a lawyer.

  “But sit down, sit down, my friends.” Bianco Brillo pulled out chairs like a genial host. “Let's have a comfy chat.” His accent was still as strong as the good will he radiated.

  Tonio swept his hair from his face and stared at him, speechless.

  Garini suppressed another grin and dropped into one of the chairs. “By all means,” he said. “I'm anxious to hear your version of what's been going on.”

  Bianco Brillo threw both hands into the air. “I'm shocked, shocked to the core. It's incredible that I, Bianco Brillo, should be suspected of having anything to do with drug smuggling. Why, when I heard about it, I was flabbergasted! So shocked, I could barely move!”

  “You managed to hurry to the airport, well above the speed limit,” Tonio said.

  “But my dear young man, that has nothing to do with it.” Bianco Brillo gave him a condescending smile. “I had just heard that my aunt, my very favorite and much-loved aunt, Cinderella, is dying. Of course I have to go to her side. I hurry. I rush. I am so anxious to be by her side that the speed limit, it is not important. You see?”

  “And Cinderella lives in Brazil?” Garini's voice was dry.

  “Venezuela.” Bianco Brillo turned sad eyes to him. “How did you guess, my astute friend?” He didn't wait for an answer. “And instead of being there, holding her hand, comforting her in her last hours, I am detained here, in this drab police station. I – Bianco Brillo! It is incredible.”

  Garini bent forward. “Was it you who came up with the idea of smuggling drugs in the closed steel girders?”

  Again, both hands flew into the air. “Oh, no, commissario! Me, I know nothing! You know how it is. When you start out your business, you know everything; you've got it all at your fingertips. You are on top of it all. But then, the company grows and becomes bigger, and you have to employ people, people you trust. You have to trust them. Otherwise, what's the point of employing executives? Me, I've always trusted my employees. I believe in the best in people. But what can I do if they misuse my trust? This young lad here, he tells me that my beautiful company was used for nefarious activities. Me, I had no idea!” He pulled down his mouth and managed to look like an unhappy moon.

  Tonio sighed. “That's the line he's taken from the beginning. He knew nothing, he's innocent as a lamb.”

  Brillo rounded on him. “But it is the truth! I tell you nothing but the truth, but you don't want to believe it!”

  Garini shook his head, abandoning the fruitless discussion. “Tell me more about the man who died.”

  Brillo reared back. “Who died? I know of nobody!”

  “Lucio Casanuova's predecessor.”

  “Oh, him.” Brillo managed to look sad. “A terrible accident, but it didn't happen at the office, commissario. He was on vacation. He visited the marmi, you know, the marble works. And he fell. So unlucky.”

  “Was anybody with him?”

  “Sì, sì, his wife.” Brillo nodded with vehemence. “It was terrible, absolutely terrible. But I didn't know her. I sent flowers for his funeral. Many flowers.”

  “What's her name?”

  “The wife's name?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh.” Brillo thought a moment. “Anna. Anna Anticola.”

  Garini noted it. “Now, please tell me about the evening at the club.”

  “But I already told you about it, commissario!”

  “I don't think you told me everything.”
r />   Brillo sighed. “I like you, I really do, commissario. That's why I will tell you everything again, though I don't see the point. We went to dinner, we came to the club. First, Lucio disappeared.”

  “Was that normal?”

  Brillo blinked. “Normal? Now that you say it, I don't think so. He usually stayed at the table until our customers were … distracted.”

  “And yet, that night, he left first.”

  Brillo shrugged. “Maybe one of the girls took his fancy. I'm not a bad boss. I don't control my employees, no, not I. If they want to amuse themselves, that's fine with me.”

  “So you didn't go and look for him?”

  Brillo's eyelids flickered for a second. “Me?”

  “Yes.” Garini drew out the pause.

  “I went to the bathroom later on. Maybe someone saw me going there.”

  “When was that?”

  Brillo threw his hands into the air. “But I have no idea, commissario! No idea at all! Do you look at your watch every time you go to the bathroom?”

  “Where were the others by that time?”

  Brillo sighed. “They had gone. That night, everyone found something nice to do quite early.”

  “So you were the last to leave?”

  The security guard coughed.

  Brillo looked at him, then shrugged. “Sì, sì. I have nothing to hide, nothing at all!”

  It was Garini's turn to sigh. He exchanged a look with Tonio, then he got up. “If you want to reveal a bit more, ask for me.”

  “But … can I go now? My aunt Cinderella …”

  “Your aunt will have to wait, I'm afraid. You see, we're not convinced about your knowing nothing at all.”

  Brillo dropped his head into his hands. “I was framed,” he moaned. “My trust was misused. And I think I'm going to be sick. I have a fever.”

 

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