temptation in florence 04 - expected in death (12 page)

“It rained most of the day,” Garini said. “Are you asking us to accept that you walked around town aimlessly for most of the day while it was pouring? That's hard to believe.”

Ugo stared at him, then slowly shook his head, his face blank. “I have just changed my mind. I won't tell you anything.”

Someone gulped audibly.

“Don't you wish to find the person who killed your mother?” Garini asked.
Maybe Ugo is a bit mentally challenged. But does that make him more dangerous or less so?

“You find the killer. It's got nothing to do with me.” He looked around the room, his eyes rolling. “Mama was never wanted here. I'm not wanted. I'm leaving.”

Garini stepped into his way. “Don't leave town without telling me about your whereabouts. I'll need to interview you again.”

Ugo grunted, stepped around him with surprising speed, and stumbled from the room, his steps so heavy that the floor seemed to shake.

Half a minute later, they heard the downstairs door bang.

“We should have offered him a room for the night.” Uncle Teo sounded as if he was speaking in a dream. “The poor boy, all on his own now.”

“Hello?” Annalisa shook her red hair. “He just tried to strangle Aunt Fabbiola, didn't you see that? I'm so glad he's gone. But what about the keys? Olga gave him keys to the house, didn't she? He could be back at any given moment and murder us in our sleep.”

They all looked at one another.

“You'd best secure the door downstairs with bolts tonight and change the lock tomorrow,” Garini said.

Fabbiola pressed her knitting against her chest with one hand while fingering her throat with the other. “Under no circumstances am I going to stay alone tonight. I'll sleep in your apartment, Carlina.”

Carlina blinked. “But Stefano is already staying with me, Mama. His apartment is inundated; he can't go home.”

“He can have my bed,” Fabbiola decreed. “That'll be a nasty surprise for Ugo when he returns.”

“The boy just lost his mother.” Uncle Teo said. “I'd not have thought that you could be so devoid of feeling.” His whole body was shaking.

Leo gave him a concerned look, then went forward and took his arm. “Let me accompany you downstairs, Teo. I'll stay with you tonight, if you wish.”

Benedetta opened her mouth as if to protest but closed it again.

Emma saw it, and in an uncharacteristically soft gesture, went to her mother and put her arms around her shoulders. “Do you want me to stay with you tonight, Mama, so you won't feel alone?”

“Under no circumstances,” her husband said. “If you stay with Benedetta tonight, then I'll be staying, too. I won't leave you out of my sight until the locks to the house have been changed.”

“Well, in that case, I'll move out,” Annalisa said. “This apartment will burst with people if both Emma and Lucio move in, and I prefer to live in comfort. Can I have your bed, Emma?” She shook her red hair and gave her sister a brilliant smile. “I've been dying to use your modern bath for ages. Do you mind if I use your bath salts?”

“You will not stay all on your own in Emma's apartment while that lunatic is still free.” Benedetta shook her head with vehemence, her motherly instincts roused. She turned to her son, a pleading look on her face.

Ernesto jumped up before she could even open her mouth. “Oh, no, don't ask me to stay with her.” He lifted both hands as if to ward off a blow. “She may be my sister, but she snores, and I can't stand that. I refuse to share a bed with her.”

Annalisa got up in a flash. “I don't snore! How dare you say--”

“Because I've heard it more than once. Did none of your lovers ever tell you so?” He grinned at her. “Probably too polite, eh?”

Piedro looked from one to the other, a stunned expression on his face.

Carlina collapsed in helpless giggles. “This is too funny. First, tragedy, and now, we're swapping beds as if that was all that mattered.”

Garini looked at her and shook his head, a small smile hovering on his lips. Her sense of humor managed to throw him time and again.

IV

The next morning, Garini was in a bad mood. His back hurt from the unfamiliar bed, and he had a headache from Fabbiola's intense perfume that seemed to have seeped into every corner of her bedroom. Besides, he had missed Carlina, her tousled curls when she smiled at him to say good morning, her warm body in the crook of his arm.
We really have to find an apartment soon.
But with the new case, he would have no time to go house hunting. He grunted with displeasure and concentrated on his work. First, he sent out a press release, asking the public to help. Anyone who had seen anything suspicious in and around the San Niccolò Tower on Monday afternoon was asked to report to the police immediately. He made sure the request for information was not only printed but also passed on via the radio, television, and to several travel agents who organized bus tours that stopped at the
Piazzale
Michelangelo
. Maybe someone had seen something after all, in spite of the drizzling rain. Then he managed to obtain a recent picture of Fabbiola and called for Piedro.

“I've got an important task for you today, Piedro,” he said when his subordinate had shuffled into the room with his usual lack of enthusiasm.

“On my own? Dad said I should stick to you.”

Garini kept a tight reign on his temper. “I'm giving you an important task on your own. People are more likely to talk to you, knowing that you have no connection to the Mantoni family at all. I want you to walk around the area of the San Niccolò Tower and to question shop owners, passer-bys and restaurant workers if they have seen this person yesterday afternoon.”

Piedro took the picture, then looked up. “Mrs. Mantoni-Ashley?” He suppressed a grin. “So it's true that we're suspecting her?”

Garini made sure his face didn't betray the wariness he felt. “Yes.”

“If you see anyone who recalls her, take all their data. Most of all, make sure you note the time when they saw Mrs. Mantoni-Ashley. Try to get them to remember as best as they can.”

Piedro nodded. “All right.”

Garini sighed. He had to follow the thread with the missing knitting needle, no matter if he wanted to or not.

His next step was to find Ugo again and drag more information from him. In his opinion, this was far more urgent than checking on Fabbiola because Ugo was just as likely a suspect as Fabbiola, maybe more so because he was close family. Nothing so far had shown that the mother-son relationship had any dark side, but Garini hadn't yet looked carefully enough. Ugo's attack on Fabbiola last night had revealed that he could easily be driven to violence, and with his size, it would have been a piece of cake for him to throw his petite mother from the tower – maybe even by mistake. Instead of Piedro, he decided to take Alfonso with him. Alfonso had only started on the force a few months ago, but he was very tall and so muscled that he almost looked fat. If Ugo should become aggressive again, he would have to face someone who was in his weight class.

Uncle Teo's instructions showed them the way to a luxurious building on Via de' Benci. The glass doors gleamed as much as the marble in the lobby, and the whole place smelled of the expensive flower arrangement which presided on a round table in the middle of the lobby. Garini sniffed. Lilies. He didn't like the smell of lilies; it was too heavy, too overwhelming, and the scent reminded him of funerals.

A uniformed concierge behind a counter that dwarfed him asked who they wanted to visit and rang in advance. Garini half expected Ugo to make a run for it, but within two minutes, they were told to go up.

Ugo scowled like an angry lion, but he let them in and stood back with his arms crossed in front of his chest. Garini looked around. The Ottimas had the penthouse apartment with a magnificent view of the Santa Croce area through arched windows that stretched over two stories. The whole effect was a bit like living in a converted church.

I can't believe that Ugo was willing to trade this with Carlina's apartment. Olga must have enjoyed riling Carlina when she said so.
A sour feeling rose inside him. He knew how much Carlina loved her apartment and the house on Via delle Pinzochere. With an effort, he managed to push the thought away and started the interview along more conventional lines. “We've come for more information to help find out who killed your mother, and we would be grateful for your cooperation. My colleague Alfonso Piccolo will note down anything you say. You can read the statement later and sign it. Is that all right with you?”

Ugo shrugged and waved them toward a black leather sofa that could easily have seated half the police force of Florence. “I don't have much choice, do I? Sit down.”

Garini waited until Alfonso had taken out his notebook and pen before he started. “When did you last see your mother alive?”

Ugo stared at his folded hands, his mouth grim. “On Sunday afternoon.”

“Where were you?”

“Right here.”

“Did she behave in any way unusual? Worried? Or upset about anything?”

Ugo shook his head. “No.”

“Was she happier, more relaxed than usual?”

“No.”

Garini suppressed a sigh. If he kept on answering in monosyllables, this was going to be difficult. “So you'd say everything was normal?”

“Yes.”

“And what did you talk about?”

He shrugged. “Usual stuff. What I had eaten. My job.”

“What is your job?”

Ugo's shoulders tensed even more. “I'm a pastry chef.”

Alfonso blinked but continued writing.

Garini had trouble imagining Ugo handling fragile cakes and flowers made of marzipan. On a hunch, he said, “Do you enjoy your job?”

Ugo pushed his chin forward as if he had to prove a point. “Yes.”

“And what did you mother say about your choice of profession?”

“Leave my mother out of this.”

So Olga hadn't been in favor of her son's job. Well, no wonder. She'd probably expected Ugo to fill a power job somewhere, preferably at a bank or other financial institution.

“Did your mother say what she had planned to do on Monday?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“No date with a friend or something to do with her job?”

“No.”

Garini studied the bovine face in front of him, and once again, he wondered if Ugo was really stupid or if he just played the part. He had a temper, but for the moment, he seemed to have it under control. “Do you want your mother's killer to be found?”

“Yes.”

“Then it would help if you answered in a bit more detail.”

Ugo stared at his feet and didn't reply.

“Or do you think that your mother committed suicide?”

He shook his head, for the first time showing a bit more animation. “No way.”

Two words. Way to go.
Garini suppressed a sigh. “Where were you yesterday?”

Ugo shook his head. “I'm not telling.”

“You are aware that you are a suspect, aren't you?”

“I didn't kill my mother.”

Garini gave up. He was wasting his time here. “One last question: Do you know if your mother made a will?”

Ugo looked surprised, as if the idea had never crossed his mind. “No.”

“Can you give me the name of your mother's lawyer?”

Ugo frowned and turned his head.

Garini followed his gaze to an ornamental desk that stood in one corner of the living room. The desk wasn't much larger than a handkerchief, with spindly legs and a little drawer underneath. Its gilt surface looked pristine, and the chair in front seemed too uncomfortable to use for a long time in spite of the gold and red striped brocade material that covered the seat. “Is that where your mother kept her files?”

“No.”

“Where did she work, then?”

“She didn't have files. She memorized everything.”

Garini eyed Ugo. “She can't have kept everything in that little desk. Surely somewhere, she must have kept more extensive files. We'd like to have a look at them.”

“No.” Ugo jutted out his chin. “You're not going to look at anything.” He jumped up. “You can leave now.”

Garini clenched his teeth. “I might have to return with a search warrant as her files can give us valuable information. It would be helpful if you cooperated a bit more.”

Ugo stared at him like a bull. “No.”

“All right.” Garini controlled his rising temper and got up. “How about the address of your mother's lawyer, then? Are you going to give it to me or do I need to put an announcement into the newspaper to ask him to come forward?”

Ugo pressed his lips together, then he said, as if the words were dragged from him. “
Signor
Enterolazzi.”

“Thanks. We'll be back.” Garini went to the door and held it open for his colleague. When Alfonso had gone through, he closed the door behind him without a further glance at Ugo.

Neither of them said anything until they were back in the street, but as soon as they were out of earshot of anybody living in that semi-palazzo, Alfonso shook his head. “This guy is incredibly stupid and slow. Like dough, somehow.”

“I'm not so sure.” Garini said. “Maybe he's also incredibly clever. But I will find that out. First, let's go and see this
Signor
Enterolazzi.”

At that instant, his phone rang. Garini looked at the display. It was Piedro. He suppressed a wriggle of uneasiness, wondering what Piedro might have found out while showing the picture of Fabbiola to everyone in the neighborhood of the tower. “Yes, Piedro?”

“I've found the murderer,” Piedro gasped as if he had been running. “Can you come to the tower immediately?”

Chapter 8

When Garini and Alfonso arrived at the tower, Piedro threw himself at them with the speed of a falcon who's spotted a mouse.

Garini opened his eyes wide.
I didn't know he could be so quick.

“Finally!” His eyes shone. “I've found the murderer.”

Alfonso looked around. “Where did you put him?”

Piedro rolled his eyes. “I haven't made an arrest. But I've got the piece of information we need. Come with me.” He took Alfonso by the arm and dragged the much taller man down the street, in the rough direction of the Boboli gardens.