Charmer's Death (Temptation in Florence Book 2) (20 page)

Benedetta held a peeled onion beneath Leo's nose.

His eyelashes fluttered, then opened. “Where am I?”

“In my bedroom.” Benedetta sat on the bed and started to rub Leopold's hands.

An expression of panic came into Leo's eyes.

“I'm here, too.” Uncle Teo bent forward. “And so is the Commissario.”

“
The Commissario.” Leo repeated. His eyes opened until the whites showed all around.

“
You don't need to be afraid,” Uncle Teo sat on the other side of the bed. “The Commissario is almost a member of the family. He looks fierce, but underneath, he's not that bad.”

Carlina choked.

Garini took out a small notebook. “I need to take your statement as soon as possible, Mr. Morin.”

Leopold Morin sighed and closed his eyes again.

“He needs more time,” Benedetta gave the Commissario a dark look. “He has only just come back from a deep faint.”

“
I don't have much time, Signora.” Garini returned the look with an impassive face.

“
It's all right.” Leopold lifted his hand. “I will tell you everything.”

“
I'd like to tape your statement if I may.” Garini pulled the small tape recorder from the pocket of his leather jacket. “And I should tell you that you have the right to ask for the presence of a lawyer.”

“
I don't need a lawyer, and yes, you can tape everything I say.” Leopold started to talk without opening his eyes.

For once, the whole Mantoni family kept quiet, and only the cultivated voice with the slight French accent filled the purple shadows of the room.

“I got married to Suzanne eight years ago. I always knew she didn't love me as much as I loved her, but that didn't matter to me. I also knew she married me after a big disappointment, but I didn't care. We were happy, or so I thought.”

Leopold took a deep breath.
The tight control of his emotions was only visible in the stiff way he held his hands flat on the lilac cover, at the sides of his body.
“Last year, we decided to go to Florence for the Christmas holidays. I spent the morning in the
Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana. It's my favorite library. When I came back to our hotel room, I found a letter. Suzanne had left me . . . for a man she had only met that very morning. She said it had been a “coup de foudre”, love at first glance. She said he was the one man she had been waiting for all her life. She asked me to forgive her.”

No one moved. The quiet voice held them enthralled.

“I know it sounds unbelievable, but it happened like that. I tried to find her.” The voice grew tight with the memory. “She had turned off her phone. I didn't find a trace. I thought they had left Florence. Finally, I decided to go back home. I waited for Suzanne to come back. I waited for weeks.”

Carlina swallowed. She had a lump in her throat.

“Then, one day in January, Suzanne was back at her work. She looked like a different woman, crazy, worn-out, a decade older. I tried to make her talk to me. She said he had dropped her. He had dropped my Suzanne. He had destroyed her.” His thin shoulders shook. “She didn't want to come back to me. She said she wasn't worth it.”

He fell silent.

“Please go on, Signor Morin.” Garini's voice held a gentle note.

Leopold opened his eyes and looked at him. “I found out his name. I found out that he came back to Florence every year. And every year, he had a new lover. I decided to go and see him. I wanted to see the man who had destroyed my Suzanne.”

Benedetta caught her breath so loud, they could all hear it.

“
And I did.” Morin sat up. “He was attractive, yes, but I could not see the reason why women loved him so much. I followed him wherever he went. I tried to understand. It became . . . an obsession.”

“
Did you ever talk to him?” Garini asked.

“
Yes.” The thin face looked tired. “I once asked him the way to the library. He knew it. He was a well-educated man.” He fell silent and looked at his hands.

“
What happened next?” Uncle Teo's voice sounded rough.

Garini gave him a warning glance.

“I found out that he often went to church. He never stayed long. Five minutes, sometimes less. He didn't go to confession; he just prayed.” Leopold closed his eyes for a brief moment. “That morning, I didn't feel like following him into the building. I knew he would come out soon, and it . . . it perturbed me to see him pray. It seemed a sacrilege. I couldn't bear it. So I went to the café across the street and ordered a coffee. It was such a cold day. I never stopped looking at the doors, though.”

“
Did you see anybody come in or go out? Anybody you knew?” Garini bent forward.

Leopold didn't hesitate. “No. I saw some women, but with their thick coats and scarves, they all looked alike. I wasn't paying attention to the women anyway; I only wanted to follow him when he came out again.” He shrugged. “But he didn't come.”

Benedetta's eyes grew rounder every second.

“
I finally decided to find out what had become of him. As far as I knew, there was no other exit to the church, but maybe I wasn't well informed. I went inside. It was icy and dark. I walked slowly, as if in admiration of the building. Like a normal tourist.” He gave a little nod. The pink skin on his scalp showed through the short-cropped hair. “I didn't see anybody. I thought I had missed him, but to make sure, I went to the front.” He shrugged. “He always used to pray in the front. The back seat wasn't the right place for him.” He swallowed so hard, his Adam's apple moved visibly. “I stumbled over him. I knew immediately it was him. I can't tell you why. That's the last I remember until . . . “

“
Until?” Benedetta bent forward.

“
Until that dreadful Swiss woman tried mouth-to-mouth resuscitation on me.” His thin lips twisted at the memory, and a bit of color came back into his pale cheeks.

Garini stared at him without twitching a muscle. “What about your wife?”

Lines of sadness appeared next to Leopold's mouth. “She cut off contact and filed for a divorce. I haven't seen her since August.”

Carlina and Garini exchanged a glance.

Then Garini bent forward. “Are you willing to swear that you haven't seen her since August?”

He looked surprised. “I swear.”

“Have you been in touch with her in any other way? The phone? E-Mail? Letters?”

“
No. Nothing at all.” Leopold shook his head in slow motion. “She said it was too painful for her.”

Garini leaned back. “Your wife, Signor Morin, threatened Carlina Ashley,” he made a move with his hand and indicated Carlina, “today with a gun.”

Leopold gasped and jumped from the bed. “Suzanne is in Florence? Why?” He swayed and grabbed the bedpost to steady himself.

“
Because she wanted to know about the current lover of Trevor,” Carlina said. “She is convinced that this year's lover killed him. Now she wants to take her revenge on her.”

Benedetta gave a little cry. “But that's Annalisa.”

Leopold looked confused. “Who's Annalisa?”

“
My daughter!” Benedetta looked at the onion she still held in her hand as if surprised to find it there and threw it aside. “I have to go to her!” She turned toward the door.

“
Suzanne is now at the police station.” Garini's quiet voice stopped her. “Annalisa is in no danger whatsoever.”

“
But what if they let this Suzanne go?” Benedetta crossed her arms in front of her chest. “She will come here, and she will want to hurt Annalisa!”

“
They have strict orders not to let her go until I'm back.”

“
Madonna!” A voice came from the door. “What are you all doing in Mama's bed-room?”

“
Emma!” Bendetta hurried to her eldest daughter. “Annalisa is in danger!”

Emma laughed. “You must have misunderstood something, Mama. Usually, it's Annalisa who presents a danger for others.”

Benedetta stamped her foot. “How dare you say such a thing about your sister, Emma?”

Emma shrugged. “I know her.” Then she looked at the assembly with surprise written large in her brilliant eyes. “You still haven't explained while you're all standing around the bed?” She craned her neck. “Has anything special happened?”

Garini gave her a measuring glance. “I'll explain everything to you in a minute, in Carlina's apartment. Would you go upstairs? Maybe Carlina can go with you?”

Carlina nodded and took her cousin by the arm, but when Garini started to speak again, she stopped at the door.

Garini slipped the recording machine back into his pocket and turned to Leopold. “I would advise you, Signor Morin, to stay with your friends.” He gave Uncle Teo a glance. “You will not help anybody if you rush to the police station now.”

Leopold wrung his hands. “Suzanne! Is she . . . is she all right?”

Garini shook his head. “Physically, she only has a scratch that will soon heal, but I'm afraid she's not quite . . . “

“
What?”

“
. . . of sound mind.”

Leopold started to tremble.

“A psychologist will talk to her, but it would surprise me if she should be left alone after this.”

“
Left alone? You mean she'll become institutionalized?”

“
I don't know.” Garini gave him a long look. “I'm inclined to believe your story, Signor Morin. If it is true, you should know one thing: It is not your fault.”

The Frenchman looked at him, his skin stretched tight over his face. “I wasn't enough for her.”

“That's her mistake, not yours.” Garini said. “For the time being, stay here. Please.”

Uncle Teo nodded and placed a hand on Leopold's shoulder. “Let's get you something to drink, and then we'll eat lunch. Benedetta is a wonderful cook, and you'll feel better after you've eaten something.”

Emma looked at her cousin. “Talking about lunch - weren't we supposed to meet at Temptation today?”

“
Plans changed.” Carlina drew her through the door. “Come upstairs, and I'll explain everything.”

Two minutes later, when Garini closed the door to Carlina's department behind him, fear flared up in Emma's eyes. “What is this?” She turned on her cousin like a swift falcon. “A cross-examination?”

Carlina looked at the floor. “Garini needs to talk to you, and I thought you might want to have me close. But I can leave, if you'd rather not have me here.” She turned toward the door.

“
Stop.” Emma held out her hand. “You can stay.” With a sudden turn of temper, she dropped onto Carlina's comfortable sofa and stretched out her long legs. “So, what's the deal, Commissario?” She gave him a look underneath her long lashes. “I hope it's nothing too dreadful.” Her watchful eyes belied the playful tone.

He took a piece of folded paper from his jacket and handed it to her. “It's this.” His gaze stayed on her face.

“The incriminating document.” Emma's voice mocked while unfolding it. “Hand it over to the criminal, and she'll--” she choked and stared at the picture, then jumped up. “This is a Photoshop-job!”

“
I'm afraid not.” He stood like a tree, not an emotion visible.

Carlina watched her cousin with a worried frown.

“Where did you find this?” Emma held the paper away as if it was contagious.

“
In Trevor Accanto's papers. We know you had an affair with him three years ago.”

Emma threw a scared glance at Carlina.

Carlina looked at her, helpless. She opened her mouth, but a glance from Stefano made her close it again.

Suddenly, the air seemed to be sucked out of Emma, and with a small moan, she dropped the paper and covered her face with her hands. “Don't tell Lucio.” The words were a whisper.

He picked up the document and stored it away in his pocket. “I won't unless it's absolutely necessary.”

Emma lifted her pale face to him. “Lucio won't understand.”

“Could you tell us about it?”

Emma shuddered. “I will, but only if you don't switch on that infernal tape recorder. And you're not taking any notes, either!”

“In that case, you might have to repeat the information officially later.” Garini didn't budge an inch.

Emma shrugged. “I don't care. Do you want to hear my story or not?”

“I do.”

Carlina couldn't stand it anymore. She sat next to her cousin and took her hand.

Emma gave her a small smile, then turned to Stefano with an impatient move. “Oh, sit down, Garini. I don't want you to tower over me while I spill my guts.”

Stefano sat on the chair with the leopard print cover and bent forward. “Please start.”

“I met him at the mercato on the Piazza Lorenzo Ghiberti, a week before Christmas. Mama had sent me to buy some olives. You know, Carlina, Mama insists that Giulio's olives are the best because of his oak casks. As usual, Giulio asked me to test different olives, and suddenly, Trevor was standing next to me. We tested the olives together and compared them. It was fun. His Italian was perfect, and he was so . . . charming.”