Delayed Death (Temptation in Florence Book 1) (24 page)

"Carlina!" Her mother's voice woke her.

Why didn't she come in? Carlina didn't move.

"Carlina!" A pounding on the door.

Oh.
She remembered now. Carlina rolled out of bed and schlepped herself to the entrance of her apartment. She still felt groggy from the sleeping tablet she had taken, the very first in her life. The emergency doctor had given her one, and when Garini had said that they would need hours to finish documenting everything, she had handed him the key to Temptation, had jumped on her Vespa and had bolted home.

However, for the first time in her life, it hadn't felt safe. In the end, she locked her door with the key and placed a chair beneath the handle. Feeling ridiculous and small, she curled up in bed, crying like a small child before the sleeping tablet kicked in.

Carlina pushed the chair to the side and turned the key, then pulled open the door. "Oh, no."

Garini stood next to her mother. Around his mouth, he had deep lines she had never noticed before.

"Carlina!" Her mother placed her hands on her hips. "Why did you lock yourself in? I was so worried about you!"

Carlina rubbed her hands over her eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to be disturbed." She looked at Garini. "Does Uncle Teo know?"

He nodded. "I told him."

She bit her lips. "What did he say?"

"Nothing much." His face was impassive as always.

A strand of Fabbiola's hair hung across her face. "I don't know what's going on here." She hunched her shoulders. "It scares me."

"Me too." Carlina took a step back. "Come in."

Her mother and Garini followed her into the kitchen. "Espresso?" Carlina started to make coffee without waiting for their answers. She was aware of Garini's gaze on her, sharp and intelligent, taking in every detail. She pressed the Espresso maker into his hand. "Can you continue? I'll just go to the bathroom for a moment."

She looked at her face in the mirror. Due to the smudged Mascara, she had dark circles beneath her eyes, her nose still looked red and swollen from crying, and her hair hung in tangles around her face. She brushed her teeth, repaired the worst of the damage and returned to the kitchen, feeling a bit more like a human being on the outside, but with a bleak and hopeless feeling inside.

The espresso was done. It was strong and hot, just what she needed. She finished it with a grateful sigh.

"I need to talk to you," Garini said.

"Now why doesn't that surprise me?" Carlina felt weak, as if she was recovering from an illness, but she tried to sound like always.

"Is that really necessary?" Fabbiola put her cup onto the saucer with a clatter. "You're not giving us much time to grieve, are you?"

His face hardened. "I wished I could leave you alone, but I don't think we have much time."

Carlina remembered Aunt Maria's words.
A lot more people should be dead by now.
She shuddered.

"You should start somewhere else." Fabbiola crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Carlina is still in shock."

His light eyes scanned Carlina's face, but he answered Fabbiola. "She was the last who talked to her. It happened in her store."

I'm a suspect.
The air went out of Carlina as if someone had punched her in the stomach. Her hand trembled. She turned her back to the Commissario and placed the cup in the sink. Maybe he hadn't seen her reaction.

Fabbiola put an arm around Carlina's shoulders. "There. I hope you're glad now. Do you enjoy tormenting us?"

Carlina glanced at him from the side.

For the very first time, a temper flared up in his eyes.

Carlina swallowed. She had been right the first time. He wasn't a man you wanted to make angry.

Garini narrowed his eyes. "I can stop tormenting you, as you call it, and leave the murderer to go on with his or her business." He pressed his lips together. "You'll have many funerals in the next months."

Fabbiola hissed out her breath. "How dare you?"

He opened the door of the kitchen. "Please leave me alone with your daughter. I need to talk to her."

"No way!" Fabbiola's face became stubborn. "I won't--"

"Mama." Carlina pulled her mother by the arm to the living room. Out of earshot, she said in a low voice. "Aunt Maria said many more people should be dead. She had a theory, but she didn't have the time to tell me."

"What?" Fabbiola's eyes widened until the whites showed all around. "She said that?"

"Yes. I think the Commissario is right, and I need to tell him everything she said. Maybe he can make sense of it." She sighed. "I sure can't."

"But I should stay with you! I'm your mother!"

Carlina suppressed a sigh. How could she tell her mother that instead of helping, her presence made things more cumbersome? She gave her a quick hug. "Thank you. But I think it'll be better to obey the Commissario. I don't want him to take me to the police station again."

"Again?" Now Fabbiola's eyes threatened to fall out of her head.

Damn. How could I forget?
She had spared her mother the details of that awful interview. Carlina went to the door of the apartment and opened it. "Please."

"Oh, all right." Fabbiola took a deep breath. "You've always done as you liked anyway." With a regal toss of her head, she swept out of the room.

When the door had closed behind her, Carlina leaned against it and braced herself.

"Congratulations." Garini's voice was dry. He came into the living room and handed her another cup of coffee. "Sit down, please."

Without a word, Carlina accepted the cup and sat on the sofa. "I won't be much help to you, Garini." His last name slipped out before she could stop herself. "My head is a big muddle."

"I'll take you through everything step by step." He took out the recorder and pointed at it. "All right?"

Carlina sighed and nodded. "What happened to your assistant?"

"The flu." He looked as if he made the assistant personally responsible for such an untimely illness. "Tell me everything your great-aunt said." He placed the recorder on the low table and sat on the armchair across from her.

Carlina looked at her cup. "She came to Temptation this morning and wanted to talk to me. I made her sit on the bar stool because it's the sturdiest chair I have." She smiled. "With her green coat, she looked like a triumphant little nymph when she had managed to climb onto it." A tear ran down Carlina's cheek. She wiped it away.

"Did she often come to Temptation?"

"From time to time. She never bought anything, but she came to chat."

"Was she different this morning?"

"Yes. She was troubled. She said she knew who the murderer was."

He sat up straight. "She said that?"

"Yes." Carlina nodded. "But before she could tell me who it was, she took out one of her infernal garlic cloves and--" She broke off. "She first offered one to me."

"She offered her cloves to everybody, but there was no danger anybody would ever have accepted one," Garini said.

Carlina smiled, a sad smile. "I know."

"Did she give you any clue about the murderer? Male or female?"

Carlina frowned and tried to recall every word. "I don't think so . . . no. She only said if her theory was right, then many more should be dead. That's why she wasn't sure. She said she would endanger me by telling me."

"Endanger you?" His eyebrows lifted. "How?"

"She didn't say. Just by knowing about it, I guess."

The Commissario frowned. "If she said many more should be dead, and she was wondering about it, then a possible reason could be that the murderer was away in the last weeks."

Carlina caught her breath. "You mean Emma! She didn't do it." Her cousin's face, twisted with fury at finding Uncle Nico dead, appeared in front of her inner eyes. "No," she repeated. "I don't believe it for one minute."

"Poison is a typical weapon for a woman," he said.

She balled her fists. "She didn't do it."

He put his head to one side and regarded her, his eyes like steel. "No matter who I suggest, you always say it's impossible."

She wanted to stamp her foot. "It is. It's your job to provide irrefutable proof. Maybe I'll believe you then."

"Knowing you, I doubt it."

Was there a glimmer of a smile in his eyes? Carlina looked away.

"Tell me about your conversation with your great-aunt. Tell me everything, even if you think it doesn't matter and doesn't belong."

Carlina sighed. "I'm not sure if I remember everything, and if I remember it right. I might have misinterpreted something." She shrugged.

"I know," Garini said. "I'll count that in." He leaned back and placed one arm across the back of the sofa. "Shoot."

"She smelled of garlic as always, and she looked worn out. I offered her a glass of water." She clenched her teeth. "With fresh water from the tap. Next, we talked about my water glasses. They're handmade, and I sell them if someone is interested. Suddenly, she said she knew who had killed grandpa. She asked me to close the door."

He bent forward, his elbows on his knees. "What then?"

Carlina suppressed a smile. "Then she asked me if I liked you."

Garini blinked.

She started to enjoy herself. "I said no. She asked why. I said you were rude, pushed me around, and tried to make me lose control."

His face didn't betray what he thought.

"She told me Annalisa felt the same, but that she, Aunt Maria, liked you because you understood weaknesses. She also said you were leading me on, and that I had to look closer."

Their eyes met. The room was silent. Carlina tried to read his feelings, but his face was shuttered. She felt ridiculous. "Next, she mentioned that bit about more people dying. It chilled me." She fell silent. "She wasn't sure about her theory, because several people knew the secret, and if her theory was right, then they should be dead."

"Did she tell you who else knew the secret?"

"No." Carlina swallowed. Now came the hard part. "But she came to Temptation to talk to me out of earshot, to ask my advice." She hurried on, hoping against hope he wouldn't catch the implication. "She wondered if she should share her knowledge with you. I said yes."

He lifted his eyebrows. "Are you sure of that last bit?"

She glared at him. "Yes. Aunt Maria was surprised too. Even if I don't like you, I can still think you're good at your job." She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "That's what I said, believe it or not."

"And then?"

Her face twisted. "Then she pulled out that garlic clove, offered it to me, and put it into her mouth. She turned red and fell off the chair. I took the garlic from her mouth, but I didn't dare to try mouth-to-mouth treatment."

His gaze never left her face. "Why didn't you think she'd had a heart attack or something like that?"

Carlina swallowed. "I guess because it happened the very second she started to chew, and because we were just talking about grandpa's murder. Did . . . did she have a heart attack?" Her eyes widened. "Could I have saved her if I had tried?"

He shook his head. "No. She was poisoned with cyanide."

"Cyanide?" Carlina stared at him. "Why cyanide?"

Garini lifted his eyebrows. "It's quick. Why not?"

"Don't . . don't killers usually stick to one method?" When she saw his gaze sharpen, she hastened to add, "I've read that somewhere."

"This killer sticks to poison. So far." His words had an ominous ring. "There are exceptions to every rule."

Carlina felt cold and rubbed her arms. "Is it easy to get cyanide?"

He watched her, impassive. "It can be extracted from apricot and peach pits. Not easy, but not impossible either."

Ernesto is the only one in the family who's interested in chemistry. I wonder if Garini knows that?
Carlina pressed her lips together. "I see."

"What happened after your great-aunt fell down?"

"I called the ambulance. The rest you know."

"Why didn't you call me?"

"I thought you'd be informed quickly enough. As you were."

"Do you still have my number?"

"Yes." Carlina waved her hand. "It's somewhere around."

"I want you to program my number into your phone right now."

Carlina lifted her eyebrows. "Why?"

"Because I want you to be able to reach me."

Carlina shrugged. "Fine." She got up and retrieved her handbag from the chair where she had dropped it the night before, pulled out her phone and started to punch in his name.

"Put me on speed dial," he said. "So I'll be right on top."

She looked up. "Aren't you exaggerating a bit?"

He held her gaze. "No."

"My phone isn't that modern, and your name doesn't start with A."