temptation in florence 04 - expected in death (13 page)

Alfonso hung back. “Where are we going?”

“Not far.”

They walked for ten minutes until they came to a small store in the Via dei Bardi.

“This is it.” Piedro stopped and beamed at them.

“A haberdashery?” Garini stared at the shop windows that were crammed full with different kinds of wool and sewing patterns. The effect of the colorful display was enhanced by the turquoise paint that had been used for the old-fashioned door and window frames, even though the vibrant color had faded with time, and now the paint had cracked and peeled off at several places.

“Yes, a haberdashery.” Piedro opened the door to the musical tingling of a bell.

A middle-aged woman with a pinched mouth looked at him, her eyes sad. “There you are again.”

“Yes.” Piedro almost danced toward the dark wooden display table that reached up to the woman's hips. The table was made up of a multitude of flat drawers, with the top made of glass. The view from above revealed rows and rows of transparent tubes filled with colorful buttons. Behind her, a whole wall was covered with a shelf that displayed balls of wool sorted by type and color. “This is
Signora
Balli,” he presented the woman. “This is my boss,
Commissario
Garini.” He forgot to present Alfonso.

Signora
Balli looked at Stefano with shadowed eyes. “I hope I'm not getting Fabbiola into trouble,
Commissari
o, but when your assistant showed me her picture, I recognized her immediately, of course. We went to school together.” She saw that Alfonso had taken out his notebook and looked at her, a question in his eyes. “Yes, of course you can note down what I say. I know the procedure. My son works for the police, too, but he's in Rome.”

She turned back to Garini. “Fabbiola came to my store at a quarter past four on Monday. She's a regular customer since she took up knitting some months ago.” She looked at her hands and twisted them into each other.

Garini's heart sank. Here was an honest witness, someone he couldn't ignore. And the case already looked bad for Fabbiola, though
Signora
Balli had hardly said a word. “How come you recall the exact time?” he asked.

“I have to take medicine regularly, that's why I always set a little timer. I had just swallowed my pills when she came in.”

Garini nodded. “I understand. Please continue.”

“She chose wool for her latest project. Apparently, her knitting group has decided that they will knit a cover for the
Ponte Vecchio
. In burgundy.”

Garini blinked. “A cover for the
Ponte Vecchio
?”

“Yes.”
Signora
Balli's lips twitched. “I admit I joked about it, asking if she wanted to do a sort of bridge cozy, like a tea cozy, you know, but she took her project very seriously.”

“I know.” He gave a heartfelt sigh.
She always takes all her projects very seriously.

“She seemed a bit more nervous than usual. For example, she checked her watch repeatedly, and when it was twenty to five, she said she had to go, grabbed the wool and left in a hurry. Usually, she has all the time in the world.”

“Did she buy any knitting needles?”

“No. Just the wool. And then she left.”

“I see.” Garini swallowed.
This doesn't look good.
“Did she say anything else? Did she mention an appointment or say that she planned to do anything else?”

Signora
Balli shook her head. “No.” She hesitated, then said, “I hope I've not gotten her into trouble. I was just so surprised when I saw the picture that I blurted out her name. And then, I couldn't go back on my words.”

“No, of course not.” Garini forced himself to smile. “You did the right thing. Thank you very much. We'll type your statement and will ask you to sign it. It's possible that you will have to repeat it in front of a court.”

Signora
Balli blanched. “Oh, no.”

“We'll let you know.”

He left the store with a heavy heart. It looked as if he had to interrogate Fabbiola again, this time with gloves off, and who knew where it would end. He didn't even want to think about Carlina's reaction.

Piedro fairly danced with enthusiasm. “That was the all important detail, wasn't it? The link we were missing, the one connection we needed!”

Garini forced himself to nod. “Yes. Good work, Piedro.” Then he turned to Alfonso. “Please return to the station and finish the report. We'll join you later.”

Fifteen minutes later, Garini walked into the Mantoni family house on Via delle Pinzochere, with Piedro at his heels like a happy terrier. Garini, in contrast, was dragging his feet. With a dry mouth, he looked at the shiny key in his hands that would open the door to the family home. Would they take it away when he had to arrest Fabbiola? Would Carlina throw him out? His heart clenched.

As soon as he had closed the heavy wooden door behind him, the door to Uncle Teo's apartment opened. “Ah, there you are, Stefano.” The old man smiled at him. He looked better today, less defeated. “I have an idea that I would like to present to you.”

Garini found it hard to meet his gaze. “Would it be all right if we postponed this for a bit?” His voice sounded odd. “There's something I first have to do.”
And then you might not wish to speak to me anymore.

“Of course.” Uncle Teo looked at him from beneath his bushy eyebrows. “Are you all right, my boy?”

Garini cleared his throat. “Yes.” This was getting worse by the minute. He went upstairs, wishing himself to the other end of the world.

Unfortunately, Fabbiola was at home. Even worse, she was alone. He had counted on having at least one family member with her, to support her. In that case, he might have been lenient and let them stay, against his better judgment and against the rules. But he couldn't very well ask her to fetch someone.

Fabbiola invited them to take a seat on the overstuffed sofa in front of her. She subsided into an armchair and picked up a shapeless blanket in burgundy. “What can I do for you, Stefano?” She smiled at him. “You don't mind if I continue to knit, do you? We have a big project and want to finish it in time. I feel so much happier now that Olga is gone. She was a real threat to our family, but God in his wise way decided to remove her.”

Garini held up his hand. “I'm afraid I've got bad news, Fabbiola. Do you wish to call a lawyer? I think you should have legal counsel here with you.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “But no, why should I? After all, we know each other, and I've got nothing to hide.”

“I think you should. Can you give me the name of your lawyer?”

She made an impatient sound that sounded much like an angry kitten. “Tscha. Stop talking nonsense and let me know what's bugging you.”

“Do you agree that Piedro here will record everything you say?”

She threw a fleeting glance at Piedro, who was holding up the small recording machine. Then she rolled her eyes. “Yes, of course. Go ahead.”

He was puzzled by her behavior. She seemed completely relaxed, as if she had never been near the tower during the crucial time. “We have found a witness today who told us that you were close to the tower San Niccolò at the time of Olga's fall.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh.”

“When we talked about this earlier, you stated that you had spent the day at home. Do you wish to correct your statement?”

Her gaze slid from his face, and she gave a slight titter. “My, how serious you sound. So I forgot. Now that you mention it, it's true. I went to do a bit of shopping. Is that a problem?” She focused on her work and started to knit at a feverish pace. The clacking of the needles sounded harsh in the silent room.

“Where did you go?”

“I went to the haberdashery to buy this wool.” She lifted the burgundy mass in her hands. “We're planning to cover the Ponte Vecchio. It'll look magnificent. I often go this shop, so that's nothing unusual.” She shrugged and didn't look up from her knitting. “I guess that's why it slipped my mind.”

“But you had a date at five o'clock.”

The clacking of the needles stopped. Nothing filled the sudden silence. Outside, a Vespa honked, but the sound only emphasized the quietness of the room. As the silence lengthened, the atmosphere in the room shifted. Fabbiola sat straighter and pressed her lips together.

Garini saw it and recognized her reaction for what it was – the walls were going up. Fabbiola had abandoned her carefully constructed carefree position and was retreating a step.
Damn.
Carlina's face rose in front of his inner eyes. Was he going to lose her over this? He clenched his fists. It shouldn't influence him. He had a job to do.

“Who said I had a date?” Fabbiola's voice sounded tense.

“The witness did.”

“Humbug.”

Garini bent forward. “Fabbiola, you lied to me before, and I advise you to stop doing that. I can tell you're not telling the truth.”

“I didn't have a date.” She clenched her teeth so hard that the muscles in her jaw bulged.

“Where did you have to be at five o'clock?”

“Nowhere.”

“But you left the haberdashery in a hurry.”

She bit her lips.

“Who did you meet, Fabbiola?”

“Nobody.”

“You didn't meet anybody at all?”

“That's right.” She met his piercing gaze with defiance.

“Where did you go?”

She pulled back her shoulders. “I want Carlina. She's the only one who can control you when you look like this.”

Garini winced. “You can have a lawyer.”

“I don't want a lawyer. Besides, I don't have a lawyer. I've never needed one. Who should I call? I don't have a name, nothing.”

“I could give you a list to choose from.”

“Pah.” She shook her head. “I don't know them, and I don't trust them. No. I want Carlina. Why can't she be here?”

Garini forced himself to take a deep breath and decided to ignore her question. “Please answer my question. Where did you go on Monday when you left the haberdashery?”

A door banged, and Carlina's voice called out, “Mama! Are you here?”

Garini closed his eyes.

Fabbiola perked up. “I'm in the living room, Carlina!”

Carlina shot into the room like a bullet but slithered to a stop when she saw Garini. Her gaze went from him to Piedro, to the recorder in Piedro's hands, and back to Garini. “What's going on?” Her voice was sharp.

“Sit down, my dear.” Fabbiola patted the sofa next to her. “You have to stop this
Commissario
of yours. He seems to be bent on taking me to prison.”

Carlina's startled gaze flew to Garini's face. “Surely not?”

“We've learned new facts which make it necessary to conduct another interview.” He saw how she flinched at his official tone and forced himself to go on. “I have advised your mother to have a lawyer present, but--”

“But I told him that I only needed you, my dear.” Fabbiola took her daughter's arm. “After all, you know how to handle him when he's in a difficult mood.”

Carlina shook her head as if she wanted to clear her head. “Mama, if Stefano says that, I think we should heed it. Don't you want to call--?”

“Absolutely not!” Fabbiola pressed her lips together. “I want you, and I must say I'm disappointed that you seem to be so reluctant to help me.”

“But I'm here, Mama, and I'm not going anywhere.” Carlina turned a pleading gaze to Garini. “Or do I have to go?”

Their gaze locked. He couldn't bring himself to tell her to leave. He knew it was going to make his job all the more difficult if he let her stay, for it wouldn't be long before she would be taking her mother's side, but he just couldn't.

Carlina swallowed visibly. “I promise not to say a word. I promise I won't influence her. Please let me stay.”

If only she wasn't being so reasonable, then it would have been easier to insist on her leaving. Instead, he found he'd given her an infinitesimal nod without even meaning to. Before he could make any more concessions, he turned to Fabbiola again. “To repeat my question: Where did you go on Monday afternoon when you left the haberdashery?”

Surprise written all over her face, Carlina exclaimed, “But you said you'd been at home all day long, Mama!”

Fabbiola shrugged. “I wasn't. I forgot.”

Carlina's eyes widened in shock.

“Please don't interrupt again.” Garini made sure his voice didn't reflect any of the emotions he felt. “Otherwise, I will have to ask you to leave.”

“Sorry.” She gave him a surprised look.

Surprised that he was so cool and strict with her. Surprised at the sudden distance between them. Her look chilled him to the core. “Fabbiola? Can you please answer my question now?”

“I didn't go anywhere,” Fabbiola said. “I went home.”

“You went straight home?”

She hesitated. “Sort of. I wandered around a bit. It was a nice day.”

“But it was pouring with rain,” Carlina exclaimed. Then she bit her lower lip and hunched her shoulders. “Sorry.”

“I put it to you that you went to the tower San Niccolò. I put it to you that you went up the tower to meet Olga.” His voice was like steel.

Fabbiola jumped in her seat. “I didn't go to meet Olga!”

“So you admit that you went to the Tower?”

She pursed her lips. “That question was a trap!”

Garini forced himself to remain calm. “Do you wish to postpone the interview until your lawyer is present?”

Fabbiola's eyes flashed. “Will you please stop mentioning that stupid lawyer? No! I keep telling you, a thousand times no! Who would I call? I don't have a lawyer. I don't need one! Nobody can say that I killed Olga! Yes, it's true that I went to the tower. When I came up onto the last level, I heard a scream. I ran over to look down, and I saw her lying on the ground. I recognized her purple coat immediately. But I didn't go anywhere near her! Why, I wouldn't touch her with a bargepole! She jumped all by herself!”

Carlina made a small gasping sound and covered her mouth with her hand.

Stefano forced himself to concentrate on Fabbiola only. “You saw Olga lying on the ground when you looked down?”

“Yes.” Fabbiola's voice sounded sullen. “I recognized that purple coat immediately. A man was bending over her.”