Delayed Death (Temptation in Florence Book 1) (17 page)

Carlina swallowed. "Of course not. I'm not saying they're all angels." A fleeting smile. "They aren't." She looked up. "But murder? I can't picture any of them doing it." Her mouth twisted. "At night, when I can't sleep, I think about it. All the time. But it's impossible. I keep hoping that maybe it was a mistake altogether."

"Your grandfather wasn't on medication. He can't have taken it by mistake."

"I know."

“Once again,
Signorina
Ashley, think. Who could have done it? You must be able to come up with something.”

Carlina swallowed. Images swirled through her head. Emma's face, contorted with fury. Her mother, refusing to go into details about her past. Uncle Teo, inscrutable. She pushed them all away. “I can't!” Her voice was flat. “I have no idea who killed him.”

He nodded with a slow movement, as if he was thinking about her answer. Then he got up. "Thank you."

"It was a pleasure." Her voice dripped with irony.

He smiled again, a knowing smile, a smile that told her he had caught the irony and found it amusing.

What a strange man.

He pulled a card from his shirt pocket and held it out to her. "If you ever think of something else, something that might help us, call me, no matter what time."

She took it and stuffed it into her handbag. "Right. You don't need to take me back. I'll walk."

He nodded and held the door open for her. "All right."

His quick agreement irked her. Carlina gave him a nod and walked past him.
I hope he saw it was a regal nod.
Her knees felt like jelly.
What on earth will happen next?

Stefano watched her walk down the corridor and suppressed a sigh.

Her curls were ruffled, her back straight and unforgiving. She left the building without a backward glance.

She's angry at me
.
No wonder.

"Signor Garini?" The voice of his boss startled him.

Stefano looked over his shoulder. "Yes?"

Signor Cervi poked his head out of the office at the end of the corridor. "Would you come to my office for a minute?"

Now what does he want?
"Sure."

His boss held the door open for him and closed it as soon as he was inside. He indicated one of the leather chairs around the mahogany meeting table. "Sit down."

"Thank you." The office smelled of flowers. A vase with yellow roses sat in the center of the table.

"Wasn't that one of the Mantoni girls?"

"Yes."

His boss lifted his eyebrows. "You're about to arrest someone?"

Stefano shook his head. "No. I just wanted to scare her."

Cervi leaned back and linked his hands in front of his stomach. "Did it work?"

"Not at all."

Cervi nodded in thought. "How is the case proceeding?"

Stefano's mouth twisted. "Do you want the long or the short version?"

His boss glanced at his watch. "The short."

Stefano thought a moment, then he said, "I have a thousand leads, and one is stronger than all the others."

"But that's good."

Stefano shook his head. "I have a feeling it's all wrong. The facts speak against her, but--" He broke off.

"But?"

"My instinct tells me she hasn't done it."

Cervi looked at him from underneath his eyebrows. "Instinct is not to be underestimated. Tell me about the things that speak for her."

Her eyes.
Stefano swallowed. "The whole family has an agenda."

Cervi shrugged. "Suspects usually do."

Stefano shook his head. "She doesn't. Oh, she lied to me and all, but she's the only one who was really fond of the victim. She's also fond of all the other family members, so much so that she refuses to throw a bad light on them."

Cervi moved in his chair so the black leather made a squeaking sound. "Have you tried to make her speak?"

"That's why I asked her to come here
.
" Stefano sighed. "I scared her so much, she expected to be arrested immediately."
It made me feel like shit.
He remembered the way she had swallowed her tears. For one crazy instant, he had wanted to pull her into his arms.
Get a grip on yourself, Stefano!

"I hope you didn't exaggerate."

"No."
I had to force myself to say every sentence.
"When I had her where I wanted her, I invited her to tell me who else could be a suspect."

Cervi bent forward with another squeak of the leather chair. "And?"

"Nothing." Stefano's voice sounded bitter. "The rest of the family was so creative when it came to pointing out motives for murder that I hardly know where to start. But she didn't say a word."

"Is she too naive?"

Stefano almost laughed. "No way. She knows all their faults." His voice turned bitter. "She finds them amusing."

"A woman with integrity, then."

"Yes."

Cervi looked at his hands. "I got a call from the mayor of Florence today."

Oh, no.

"It seems Nicolò Alfredo Mantoni had a few connections in certain circles. The mayor wishes to be informed regularly about the case."

Stefano clenched his teeth. "I'll send you an update every two days, if you wish. Your son is busy right now writing up our notes."

"That's good." Cervi nodded. "We need to make sure that the mayor is happy with our work." His eyes narrowed. "I think you understand."

You mean we depend on his support if we want to stay in our jobs.
Stefano suppressed a sigh. "Yes."

"Fine." Signor Cervi stood up. "Thank you for your report." He picked up a gold fountain pen from his desk and placed it into his jacket. "Oh, by the way, is everything all right with Piedro?"

Stefano bent down to redo his shoelace. "His motor bike broke down."

"Yes, he told me."

A knock came on the door, then the receptionist Gloria poked in her head. "Your visitor has arrived, Signor Cervi." She winked at Stefano. "Ciao, Stefano."

"Ciao, Gloria."
You came just in time.
Stefano straightened and nodded at his boss. "I'll give you the report later this afternoon." At the door, he stopped. "Oh, Signor Cervi?"

"Yes?"

"How come you know Caroline Ashley?"

"Who?"

"The Mantoni I just interviewed."

Cervi grinned. "My wife likes gifts from her store."

Carlina walked straight through a flock of doves without seeing them. She held her back so stiffly it hurt, clenched her fists and marched on with grim determination, but her eyes still smarted with tears.
What an idiot I am. What an absolute idiot. He played me. He pushes me around as if I'm a stupid field mouse.
She crossed the antique market ignoring the gilt mirror frames and elaborate porcelain bowls and plunged into a narrow street beyond.
I can't avoid running into his traps, even if I see them coming.
She swerved from the sidewalk to make room for a black poodle sniffing at a house entrance.
I should never have mentioned the story about the dog. I should never have mentioned Mama
. She bit her lip. A metallic taste of blood spread in her mouth. Great.
How stupid are you, Carlina? And worst of all, why do you melt the instant he smiles? He uses his smiles as part of the interrogating technique.
She shook her head and marched on, her feet hammering the cobbled street.
What if he arrests me tomorrow? I need to do something to save Temptation. Elena can't cope on her own.
A three-wheeled pasta delivery van came toward her. Carlina pressed herself into a house entrance until it had passed with two centimeters to spare on both sides. In her mind, she went through the possible stand-ins. Benedetta? She had to work. Annalisa? She was busy at university. Carlina swallowed.
I have to ask Mama. She will fall asleep in the middle of the day, resting her head happily on her cushion right on top of the cash counter, and the tourists will rob Temptation empty without the slightest hitch.
She shuddered.
Oh, God.

Angela's heels clicked on the marble floor as she led the Commissario to the sitting room. "I'm afraid Marco is not at home right now, Commissario. You'd think that as a doctor new in town, it would take some time to establish a reputation, but he is always booked out."

"That's no problem. I can first talk to you." Garini followed her into the room. The sunlight poured through the high windows and played on the deep red Persian carpet which covered the largest part of the floor. Thick curtains in a matching red framed the windows. Garini lifted his eyebrows.
What a beautiful and expensive room.

"Please have a seat." Angela gestured at the antique sofa with a red-gold brocade seat and matching cushions.

Garini sat down and looked at the elegant woman in front of him. "I have come to talk to you about your grandfather."

Angela took out a white lace handkerchief and touched it to her large eyes. "Poor grandpa."

"Before we start, I would like to ask for your permission to record our conversation." Garini switched on the recorder and placed it on the marble table in front of him.

"Of course you can record my statement." Angela pressed the lace to her lips. "I want to do everything I can to catch this ruthless murderer."

She thinks she's in a movie.
"Quite." Garini focused on her. "Your grandfather had fallen into a habit of telling the so-called bad past stories."

Angela gave a pretty smile. "He always had these unusual ideas, the dear."

The dear, my foot.
"Please tell me what he said about your past."

Angela sighed. "I have to explain a bit more about our family to make you understand. My mother is his eldest daughter, and she always was the apple of his eye."

"Your mother's name is Alberta, is that correct?"

"Yes." Another pretty smile. "I don't think you've met her."

"No."
She's the one whose dachshund was flattened like a pancake.

"Why do you smile?"

"Oh, it's nothing." Stefano concentrated on straightening his face. "Please continue."

"My mother married a very rich man, but he died early. It was so tragic." Angela sighed and leaned against the brocade cushion, playing with the string of pearls around her neck. "She mourned him for many years, but ten years later, she found another man worthy of her love."

I'm going to be sick in a minute.

"My father Clement is a professor at the Università degli Studi di Firenze. He's a wonderful man." She sighed.

"Please continue, Signora Mantoni-Canderini."
As you've now made it clear how important you are.

"Well, I am just like my mother and waited for many years for the right man."

He couldn't resist. "Just like your cousin Carlina." The nickname slipped out before he could stop it.

Angela sat up straight. "Who? I don't think you can compare me to Caroline."

No, indeed.

"When I met my Marco during the Christmas party at the golf course, I knew I had met the man of my life."

Congratulations.

"Do you know the Poggio dei Medici Golf and Country Club, Commissario?"

"No."

Angela straightened her cashmere sweater. "It's a most exclusive place, and oh, the memories." She sighed. "It was a whirlwind romance. Six months later, we were married."

"You wanted to tell me about the bad past story, Signora Mantoni-Canderini."

"I am coming to that, Commissario." Angela smiled through her lashes. "My grandfather mistrusted my choice, just because Marco is from Rome and not from Tuscany." She smiled. "I'm afraid the old dear wasn't much of a cosmopolitan. He would have preferred it if I had married the local cook."

"Not the garbage man?"

She blinked. "I bet your pardon?"

She brings out the worst in me.
"Nothing. I'm sorry I interrupted you. Please go on."

Her look showed she found him odd. "My Marco is not only good-looking. He's also from a rich family and started less than a year ago to work as a general practitioner here in Florence." A self-satisfied smile played around her lips. "No wonder everybody thought it was too good to be true." She patted her long hair. "I myself often can't believe it."

"And the bad past story, Signora Mantoni-Canderini?"

"But I am telling you, Commissario." Her dark eyes narrowed. "My grandfather thought it couldn't be true. He was disgruntled because I had rejected the cook, so he made up a tale that I had blackmailed Marco into our marriage." She trilled a laugh. "It was a great joke among the family."

"Did he mention what you used to blackmail him?"

She opened her eyes wide. "But Commissario! I've just explained everything to you; how can you ask such a stupid question? He made it all up, so of course he gave no details."

"I see. How about the other stories? Do you believe any of them were true?"

Angela patted her hair again. "I seriously don't recall them. You know, my grandfather was becoming a bit . . . shall we say odd? I didn't pay that much attention."

Garini nodded and got up. "Thank you for your time."

"You will want to talk to Marco too." Angela followed him to the door. "But I don't know when he'll be back. He works so hard, the poor darling."

"That's fine. I can always go and see him at his work."

Angela stretched out her hand in a gesture that came straight from a Verdi opera. "Oh, but please don't mention our conversation to him. He has no idea what Grandfather said, and he told me just yesterday that he even liked him." For an instant, she looked as if she couldn't understand this aberration of her husband. "I wouldn't want to disillusion him for the world."