temptation in florence 05 - seaside in death (3 page)

The waitress, a slim girl with a shy smile, came to her with alacrity. Apparently, she knew when to pay attention.

Aunt Violetta said in what passed for a whisper for her but still filled the morning room, “
Buongiorno!
What's your name?”

“I'm Nora.” Her voice was soft and friendly, and her long hair hung down her back in a thick braid.

“What? You have to speak up, girl! Don't mumble.”

Nora gave her a startled look, then glanced at Carlina, a question in her eyes.

Carlina gave her an encouraging nod.

Nora lifted her voice and shouted, “My name is Nora.”

Aunt Violetta smiled. “That's better. Well, Nora, could you do me a favor?”

Nora looked a bit surprised, but she nodded and shouted, “If I can, I'll surely do it.”

“Please point out to me the people who are sleeping in the room next to mine, in number four.”

Nora looked around the room. “They haven't arrived yet. Oh, yes, there they are.” She made a discreet sign with her hand toward a middle-aged couple just entering the room. He was yawning as he entered, and she had large circles under her eyes.

Nora had dropped her voice back to her normal speaking volume, but Aunt Violetta had no difficulty in interpreting the gesture. “Brilliant. Thank you. Would you bring me a cup of coffee, please?”

“Of course.” Nora hurried to the kitchen.

Aunt Violetta rolled her wheelchair forward and just managed not to run over the tired couple as she came to a stop in front of them with only two centimeters to spare.

Stefano Garini took a bite off his brioche and followed her with his gaze. “What is she up to now?”

Carlina frowned and drank from her cappuccino. “I have no idea.”

The middle aged couple blinked in surprise but managed to greet the formidable old lady in the wheelchair with composure.

“Buongiorno!”
Aunt Violetta boomed back when they gave her a conventional greeting. “Did you have a good rest?”

A polite smile was the answer. “Yes, thank you.” The couple made a move as if to turn toward the buffet.

“Really?” Aunt Violetta moved her wheelchair forward so the couple couldn't escape. “To be honest, you look a bit tired.”

The woman gave her a strained smile. “Well, it's true that we didn't sleep all that well. Someone in the room next to us had the TV on all night long. It was so loud that we could understand every single word that was broadcast. It was dreadful. We knocked on the door, but there was no reply. Then we called reception, but by the time we finally decided to do so, they had closed down for the night.”

Her husband rubbed a hand over his bloodshot eyes. “I was all for calling the police, but my wife didn't want to create a scene.”

Aunt Violetta gave a beautiful start. “Oh, my,” she said with wide eyes and covered her mouth with her wrinkled hand. “I'm so sorry. I think it was me.”

Stefano exchanged a glance with Carlina. “Are you thinking what I'm thinking?”

Carlina swallowed. “I hope not.”

The tired woman stared at Aunt Violetta. “It was you?”

“I'm afraid so.” Aunt Violetta managed a trembling smile. “You see, we had booked a double room for my son and myself, but through some mistake of the management, I could only get a single room on the ground floor.” She made a slight gesture toward the wheelchair. “They had reserved a double room upstairs, but of course, it's a bit impractical with the wheelchair and all, so we had to split up.”

“I don't freaking believe it,” Stefano said under his breath.

“I do.” Carlina couldn't tear her gaze away.

Aunt Violetta was on a roll now. With a pitiful glance, she elaborated her carefully constructed tale. “I have to admit I'm a bit afraid of sleeping alone in a strange place, being a helpless invalid.”

“As helpless as a tiger in his prime,” Stefano murmured.

Carlina stepped on his foot.

“So to calm myself and to feel less alone, I put on the TV and left it on all night. It may have been a bit too loud because you see, I'm slightly deaf.”

Carlina started to shake with suppressed laughter. “Plus she sleeps with ear plugs, so you can safely say that at night, she's stone deaf.” She spoke under her breath, so only Stefano could hear her.

The face of the tired husband had started to redden. “You mean you slept all the night through that . . . that infernal noise?”

Aunt Violetta gave him a bashful look. “I'm afraid so.” She spread her hands. “What can we do?” She lowered her head as if she was thinking deeply, then she looked up with sparkling eyes. “I think I've got the perfect solution!”

“You do?” The exhausted woman clutched her husband's arm. “You mean you won't switch on the TV tonight?”

Aunt Violetta shook her head. “No, I've found something much better. We could swap rooms.”

“Swap rooms?” The husband drew back. “But I don't want--”

Aunt Violetta interrupted him without the slightest difficulty. “It would be the ideal answer to all our problems! You could have the room directly above the one you have now. That's the double room on the first floor where my son and my nephew are currently staying. Did you know that it gives you a view of the sea? I would move into your room together with my son, so I wouldn't have to listen to the TV anymore to make me feel safe. And my nephew, who's right now sharing the double with my son, could take my single room instead. What do you say?”

The couple blinked in unison. “I'm afraid I couldn't quite follow.” The woman's voice sounded faint.

Aunt Violetta bared her teeth in a credible imitation of a smile. “You take my son's room. I take your room. That's it.” Again, she spread out her hands. “It's easy. And everybody will be happy.”

The tired woman turned to her husband. “I expect we could do this, couldn't we, darling? After all, we wanted to have a room with a view of the sea all along.”

The husband narrowed his eyes. “Would it cost the same?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Aunt Violetta said. “You know what, I'll clear it with the management right away.” She beamed at them and rolled back her wheelchair. “It's great to deal with intelligent and flexible people, you know. If everyone was like you, we'd have fewer wars.”

Stefano winced. “She's laying it on too thick.”

“Oh, no.” Carlina's voice shook with laughter. “They're lapping it up. Look how the lady is blushing.”

They all stared after Violetta's broad back as she rolled at top speed through the door that led to the lobby.

“I can't believe she pulled it off. What an incredible woman.” Stefano shook his head. “But what's this about a nephew? Ernesto isn't her nephew, is he?”

“No, of course not, but it's easier to just say so. She's not my great-aunt, either, now I come to think of it. Actually, she's--”

Stefano held up his hand. “No, no, don't tell me. I don't care. She's a member of the Mantoni family; that's enough for me.” He still stared at the door though Violetta had long since passed from view. “One that runs true to form, I have to say.”

The young waitress Nora came from the kitchen with red cheeks and slightly out of breath. The cup shook in her hands. “I'm sorry I'm late. Here's your coffee.” She looked around. “But where has she gone?”

“She'll be right back,” Carlina smiled at her. “You can leave the coffee here, and don't worry about being late. She was otherwise occupied and didn't miss it.”

Chapter 3

The sharp cracking sound that rent the silent night registered in Carlina's sleep-fogged brain, but she thought it was another firecracker, so she turned around, snuggled closer to Stefano, and slipped deep into sleep again, only to wake up – moments later, as it seemed to her – by an insistent knocking on the door of their hotel room.

Before she could do more than untangle her limbs from the sheets, Stefano was already on his feet and switched on the light. “Who's there?” His voice was sharp.

“It's Ernesto. Please open the door!”

With two big strides, Stefano was at the door and flung it open.

Ernesto stumbled into the room. “Something terrible has happened.”

Carlina jumped up and put her arm around the trembling shoulders of her young cousin. “Ernesto! What happened? Are you hurt?”

“No, no, it's not me.” Ernesto gasped for air. His face was so pale that his red hair shone in contrast as if it was lit up from within.

“Here, sit down.” Carlina guided him to the bed and waited until he had dropped onto it, then took his hand.

Stefano disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a glass of water. “First, drink this.”

Ernesto took it and gulped down a mouthful. His teeth chattered against the rim.

Carlina and Stefano exchanged a glance.

“Now tell us.” Carlina rubbed her cousin's hand.

“I . . . I've never seen a body in my life.” Ernesto shuddered. “I . . . I didn't think it would be so . . . demeaning. It looked horrible. And it felt so--” He gulped. “I touched his hand, you know. It was dreadful. Clammy. Rubbery.”

“Whose hand, Ernesto?” Garini's voice was both calming and compelling. “Who's dead?”

“I don't know his name.” Ernesto's whole body shook. “It's the . . . the manager of the hotel.”

Carlina's jaw dropped. “Alfonso Rosari?”

“Yes, him.” Ernesto nodded.

“And you're sure he's dead?” Garini asked.

Ernesto pressed his eyes shut. “Oh, yes. There was blood everywhere.”

“Blood?” Carlina's voice was high. “Where did the blood come from?”

“I don't know.” Ernesto shuddered again. “I didn't look. I touched him, and then, I ran to you. Straight away. It was the only thing I could think of.”

“Where did you find him, Ernesto?” Garini's voice was calm.

“At the pool.” Ernesto covered his face with his hands. “He was lying by the pool.”

Garini grabbed his shirt and pulled it on. “I'll go have a look.”

Ernesto grabbed Carlina's hand. “Can you stay here, Carlina? Please.”

Carlina hesitated. On the one hand, she wanted to join Stefano, to have a look and see the scene for herself. On the other hand, she couldn't leave Ernesto all alone in the room, still in shock. Besides, if she really thought about it, she wasn't sure that she wanted to see the body. She still remembered finding her grandfather dead last September, and that image had stayed with her far too long.

She looked up and met Stefano's eyes. “All right. You go, but--”

He lifted his eyebrows.

“Be careful.”

His face softened. “I always am.”

Garini slipped through the door and shut it without a sound. All senses alert, he rapidly went down the stairs. Everything was dark and quiet. He couldn't even hear a television blaring anywhere. A quick glance at his watch told him that it was now a quarter to one. Ernesto must have burst into their room at half past midnight or so. A mere ten minutes, and everything had changed.

He knew that the reception closed down at midnight; that's why every guest got a key to the front door. He went through that door now, noting that he could simply pull it open without using his key, and turned to the right to circle the house to reach the pool. His feet crunched on the gravel. He stepped away from the path and walked on the short grass, listening and looking for the slightest sign of life, but everything was quiet. All the windows of the hotel were dark. Well, no wonder. The family had spent the whole day at the beach, and the full exposure to the sun, combined with an extensive dinner, had made them fall into bed like logs. Even the cicadas seemed to have gone to sleep early tonight.

Small lamps illuminated the path at regular intervals, and several spotlights – now muted – made the pool look appealing, even in the middle of the night. They also highlighted the dark shape lying next to the pool.

Garini knelt down beside the dead man who was stretched out on his back, his arms flung out at his sides. He touched the hand. It was cool to the touch but not stiff. A quick look confirmed that the victim had been shot through the chest. The blood had spread from the wound onto the flagstones underneath the body. Garini frowned, got up and looked all around. There was no weapon in sight.

Light.
He needed more light. And a forensic team.
But no.
This wasn't his case. He pulled out his phone and called the police, giving a short account of the facts without revealing his profession.
Let them deal with it.
He was on vacation.

Then he settled back to wait, taking deep breaths of the balmy summer night air. From an open window, a snoring sound wafted out into the night. Someone was having good dreams. Uncle Teo? It sounded like him.

Garini folded his arms across his chest and stared into the dark. What had Ernesto been doing at twelve thirty in the morning next to the pool? He distinctly remembered how the young man had gotten up from the table around eleven, yawning, saying he wanted to go to bed early. Had he met a group of friends? If so, why hadn't he told them? Sure, Benedetta was an anxious mother, but Ernesto was eighteen and often went out late at night in Florence to play computer games. Garini shook his head. He would have to ask him.

It was unfortunate that Carlina had some history with the dead man. He would have welcomed it if for once, she'd had nothing to do with the case at all. On the other hand, she only had a slight connection to the dead man this time. A coincidence. Nothing to worry about. And he could give her an alibi. They had spent the whole day and night together.

A siren wailed through the night, then Garini saw a blue light pulsating behind the trees that framed the hotel.

Heavy steps crunched over the gravel, and a fat policeman appeared in front of him. His hair stood up as if he had jumped right out of bed in a hurry, and his shirttail hung loose over his trousers.

Behind him, a bony man appeared. He carried probably only a third of the fat man's weight and looked like a small boat tugging alongside a huge ocean liner. His thin hand clutched an unwieldy flashlight that he shone at everything and anything without stopping for an instant.

Garini wondered what he could see at that speed and turned his gaze away before it made him dizzy.