temptation in florence 05 - seaside in death (7 page)

Carlina covered his hand with hers. “But you'll find something else. You're a brilliant hotel manager.”

He looked at her with a strange expression in his eyes. “I can't move on. Not yet. I've got unfinished business here. That hotel . . . it was my life. I can't just accept it and pretend that nothing's happened.”

Carlina's eyes grew large. “But . . . but what do you want to do?”

Patelli balled his fists. “I'll get back at him.”

“At the owner?” Garini cut in.

“At both. At the owner,
Signor
Ortadella, and that . . . that manager Rosari.” Patelli spit out the name. “Manager! Rosari is not worth being called by that title. He stole my job. I'm sure
Signor
Ortadella would never have thrown me out if there hadn't been a special reason.”

“He never told you why?” Garini watched him with narrowed eyes.

“Never. He just said he wasn't satisfied with my work anymore. He said the hotel had more potential, just because we weren't booked out in November and February.” Patelli jumped up. “I have to go. I don't want to be seen here.” He shook Carlina's hand. “It was good to see you. Please don't tell your family that you met me. Bye.” He waved at Garini, slipped past the aluminum chairs and vanished from the little coffee shop before they could say another word.

Stefano looked at his retreating back. The ex-manager had scarcely gone when some members of the Mantoni family poured into the small coffee shop. They were focusing on the counter, not noticing them. Stefano looked away. They would interrupt them soon enough.

“I can't believe it!” Carlina stirred her cup with so much energy that she created a small tempest. “It's so unfair to fire
Signor
Patelli just like that!”

Stefano looked at her. If he knew his Carlina, this wasn't going to be easy. He pushed a dark curl from her face, his fingers lingering for a second on her warm skin. “I understand that you like him, and I agree that he's not a likely murderer, but you have to admit that he's got more motive than anybody else we've seen so far.”

Carlina stared at him. “On the contrary! He would never have talked in this way if he had just killed him! Why, he was a bundle of nerves as it was.”

“He could also be very clever. After all, his story was known. I bet we're not the first to hear that he wants to get back at the owner and the new manager. If he really killed the manager last night, coming here and acting like always would be his best course of action.”

Carlina shook her head. “He's not that cold blooded! Can you really see him killing someone?”

Stefano sighed. “Frankly, yes, I can.”

Her mouth dropped open. “No way. Why?”

“Because he was hurt. That rejection cut him to the core.” He took her hand and held it. “There's a Chinese saying that says you're fired, just in other words. It says “He broke my rice bowl.” That's what the owner did. He broke Patelli's rice bowl – and since that was all he had, it cut deep. He doesn't have a wife or children, does he?”

“Not that I know of.” Carlina frowned. “All right, I'll accept that he was perturbed. He had a right to be! But that doesn't automatically lead to murder.”

He looked at her. “So far, we have four suspects: Ernesto--”

She withdrew her hand from his clasp. “You're not serious!”

He continued, “Maria Rosari, the widow--”

“She might have been in shock. It hits people differently, you know.”

“. . .
Signor
Patelli, the ex-manager, because his job was stolen--.”

“I don't believe for one minute that Patelli is a killer!” Carlina crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“. . . and you.”

Carlina's mouth fell open. “Me?”

“Yes, you, my love.” He smiled at her. “You've got history with the victim. I admit the motive seems to be very weak; besides, you won the battle with him, so it looks as if you didn't have unfinished business, but it bears looking into. Just to be thorough.”

She blinked, then she said, her face a mask, “You forgot Aunt Violetta.”

He inclined his head. “You're right. Aunt Violetta might have killed him as well. Her motive is about as convincing as yours, but she's a ruthless woman.”

“In a wheelchair.”

“Which she only uses because it makes her faster.”

Carlina lifted her chin. “There's another suspect.”

“Who?”

“You.” She grinned. “You were found with the body.”

They stared at each other for an instant, then they both burst into laughter.

Stefano bent forward and kissed the tip of her nose. “All right. I admit I don't seriously consider you and Aunt Violetta.”

Carlina gave him a saucy smile. “And I don't seriously suspect you. I happen to know where you were.”

“That's a weight off my mind.” His voice was grave.

Carlina grinned, but it faded as she started to play with the small spoon in her hand. Then she looked up. “You suspect Ernesto, don't you? I can't believe he did it.”

“It would help if we found some proof of his innocence.”

“We?” She lifted an eyebrow.

He sighed. “I don't see that stupid
Commissario
Pucci doing anything besides arresting Ernesto.”

A high voice cut through the friendly chatter of the coffee shop. “Ernesto will be arrested?” Benedetta rushed from the counter, where she had been waiting to be served, to Garini and gripped his shoulders. “You have to make sure this won't happen, Stefano!” She shouted at him, punctuating every word with a shake.

All conversation in the coffee shop stopped; all eyes turned to her.

Benedetta didn't spare them a glance. “I won't see my lamb going into prison!”

“Shush, Benedetta.” Leopold appeared behind Benedetta and placed a placating hand on her arm. “Calm down, my love. Stefano is a pro. He'll handle the case, and he'll make sure that nothing will happen to Ernesto.” He looked at Garini with an entreating look, much like a puppy asking for a cuddle.

Garini closed his eyes for a moment. Normal arguments and procedures didn't get you anywhere with the Mantoni family, but he had to try. “I'm not in charge of this investigation,” he said. “In fact, the
Commissario
suspects even me. I can't promise anything.”

Benedetta stared at him. “I know exactly what you're saying! You don't want to help Ernesto! You want to stay out of it! I can't believe this!” She placed her hands on her hips. “Is that the way to treat the family of your future wife?”

Carlina turned to Stefano, her eyes wide, her surprise exaggerated. “Are we engaged? I didn't know that.”

“Nor I.” He smiled at her. What a gallant fighter she was. She knew that he would do everything he could possibly do to help Ernesto, but she also understood that he was limited by certain facts, something the rest of the Mantoni family never seemed to accept. How on earth had she turned out so sane, coming from this family? Underneath the table, he took her hand and held it.

Benedetta stomped her foot, recognizing the comment for the distraction it was. “I don't want to talk about your engagement! I want you to protect Ernesto!”

Garini sighed. “I've called the best lawyer I know for Ernesto.”

“The lawyer is not family! He won't understand!”

Garini eyed her. Did Benedetta know more about this whole thing? What was he supposed to understand? It sounded as if “understanding” really meant “hiding”. He would have to talk to her later, without an audience. “I'll do all I can.”

“There.” Leopold put his arm around Benedetta's shoulder. “That's a promise. You can rely on that.”

Benedetta sighed and turned away.

When Carlina and Stefano left the coffee shop a short time later, she said with hope in her voice, “Maybe we can make this lawyer fall in love with Annalisa. Then he'll be one of the family, and even Benedetta will believe that he's doing his best.”

Garini shuddered. “You don't know Domenico Rulo. Believe me when I say that you don't want him in the family.”

She took his hand and held it up to her cheek. “Are you sure you're not prejudiced because he works on the other side?”

He enjoyed the feeling of her soft cheek on his skin, but managed to give a snort in response to her words. “His face looks as if he ran into a wall.”

Her eyes widened. “All smashed in?”

“Kind of. It's hard to describe. His nose is pointed and sharp, but it still manages to look as if it wants to retrace its way inside the head. His lips are so thin, they're almost invisible, and the chin is receding a lot, so when you look at him from the side, he's a bit like an egg.”

Carlina stared. “Like an egg?”

“Yep. That's our nickname for him. The egg. The bad egg. The rest of him is tall and bony.”

“He may not be beautiful, but he may have a beautiful soul.”

Stefano sighed. “Bad eggs don't have beautiful souls. This one is out to make money. Trust me.”

Carlina swallowed. “Then why did you call him in?”

“Because he'll reduce that fat good-for-nothing
Commissario
Pucci to dust. However, he can only get here late tonight, so we'll have to wait.”

“Then let's make the best of it and go down to the beach,” Carlina said.

They spent the day like all the other careless holiday guests, but underneath a sense of foreboding went with them. It sneaked with them into the waves while they were splashing around, it froze a part of them when they had a cool and tangy
gelato,
and it stayed with them like a stone inside their stomachs while they had lunch and took a
pisolino
, a nap. The afternoon dragged on while nothing happened at all. Finally, the Mantoni family had their celebratory
ferragosto
dinner as planned, but their gaiety was forced. When Ernesto excused himself early, saying he wasn't hungry, his mother Benedetta was on the verge of tears, but she let him return to the hotel without insisting on accompanying him.

As one person, the Mantoni family decided to miss the fireworks this year. None of them wanted to see the lights exploding when every bang would make them jump, reminding them of the fatal shot last night.

They returned to the hotel after dinner, dragging their feet. Carlina waited until the family was out of earshot and then asked the receptionist if a lawyer by the name of Domenico Rulo had arrived. “Oh, yes,” the receptionist nodded. “He came a few minutes ago and asked to speak to Ernesto Santorini. I think they went to his room.”

Garini lifted his eyebrows, took Carlina by the arm and led her out of the lobby again, down the path that led around the hotel toward the pool.

The heat of the day still came off the stone walls of the hotel, and in spite of the dark, they could see that the gravel gave up little clouds of dust with every crunching step they took. Garini could feel a trickle of sweat running down between his shoulder blades.

Carlina pulled at his sleeve. “If we step onto the grass, they won't hear us.”

He smiled at her. So she already knew what he was trying to do.

Without another word, they moved away from the path and inched closer to Ernesto's room. Next to the door that led to Ernesto's room, a bougainvillea as large as a tree reached up to the next story. It foamed with its red flowers. Next to it, a rosemary bush went up to Carlina's hips. Still warm from the hot day, it gave out a powerful scent.

Carlina and Garini went as close as they dared, screened by the shrubbery, and leaned against the faded orange wall of the hotel.

With care, Garini stretched and looked through a gap in the flowers.

The glass door stood wide open, but he couldn't see anything. However, they could hear voices.

“I've already told you everything. That's all I can say.” Ernesto sounded tired.

A nasal, unemotional voice replied. “Look, I don't care if you killed him.”

“I didn't kill anybody!”

“Let me proceed, please.” The voice was cold. “As I said, it doesn't make any difference to me if you killed him or not. It's my job to get you out of this mess, and if you help me, it'll be easier. So tell me everything you know, even if it's to your disadvantage, and I'll decide how much has to be disclosed to the police. The worst thing you can do is not to trust me.”

“The lawyer sounds terrible.” Carlina whispered into Stefano's ear.

Stefano nodded.

“I've told you all I know.” Ernesto's voice became stubborn. “Now leave me alone.”

“I'm supposed to defend you, my boy.”

“I don't need a defense.”

Domenico Rulo's voice turned colder still. “You should have told me that before I had to rush here on
ferragosto
of all the days in the year. Do you think I like to waste my time?”

“No. I'm sorry.” Ernesto sighed. “I didn't know that you would come. My family arranged it, and I wasn't aware of it. I could have told them it's useless.”

Stefano turned his head and met Carlina's unbelieving gaze.

A sudden noise shook the house. It sounded as if someone had opened the door to Ernesto's room with so much force that the door had banged against the wall.

Like an echo, a loud explosion and banging started outside. The fireworks of
ferragosto
had begun.

Inside, the voice of
Commissario
Pucci rang out like a fanfare. “I've come to arrest you, Ernesto Santorini!”

Chapter 6

Carlina grabbed Stefano's arm and held onto it with all her might.

He covered her hand and held it in a clasp that was not only comforting but also made sure she didn't rush forward.

“Can I see your warrant?” The lawyer's voice sounded bored.

“Who the heck are you?” Pucci didn't give an inch.

“My name is Domenico Rulo. I'm an attorney, and I'm representing Ernesto Santorini. I'm surprised that you don't know me.”

“I can't know every lawyer,” Pucci said in an offhand voice. “Now, you'd better come without a fight,
Signor
Santorini.”

Rulo gave an annoyed hiss. “Let me repeat it once again: You've got to show me the warrant before you can take my client anywhere.”

“I'll have it the day after tomorrow,” Pucci said.