Page 19 of Murder in Portofino

‘The two Arabs looked completely blank but, as far as we’re aware, they weren’t on either boat the other night. As for Fortunato, he did at least say something when I put it to him. It wasn’t much, but he just said, quite firmly, “I am not a murderer.”’

I caught his eye for a moment. ‘He would say that, wouldn’t he?’

He smiled grimly. ‘Indeed, although I have to confess that I almost felt inclined to believe him. Tell me, how long are you staying in Rapallo?’

‘We’re heading home tomorrow. Anna has a meeting at the university in the afternoon.’

‘But you’re here all day today? Would it be too much of an imposition on you if we were to put off our visit to the Regal Princess until this afternoon? That’ll give me time to talk to Heather Greensleeves, our two Arabic speakers, and hopefully before lunch, Mario Fortunato’s lawyer will have arrived and the guy might finally start talking.’ He looked up and gave me a weary smile. ‘To sweeten the pill, could I at least offer you and your girlfriend dinner tonight? A close friend of mine has a restaurant here with a good reputation, and it’s the least I can do after you’ve given your time so freely. You do like fish, don’t you?’

‘That’s remarkably kind of you and, yes, we both love fish, but wouldn’t you prefer to go home and get yourself a good night’s sleep?’

He laughed. ‘A good meal and a couple of glasses of wine and I’ll be fine. And, by the way, I haven’t forgotten your dog. I’ll make sure they give us a table outside on the terrace. The restaurant’s less than a hundred metres from here and it’s called La Conchiglia. Just turn left outside the door and walk up the road.’

‘Wonderful, thanks. What are you planning on doing with Heather Greensleeves? From what she’s told me, I’m convinced she had nothing to do with what happened the other night.’

‘I’m sure you’re right. I just want to get as much background as I can on Fortunato and every single detail she can remember about the other boat and the people on it. The Coastguard have been tracking several boats that might have rendezvoused with them, but if we can get a positive ID, that would be excellent. I imagine when we’ve finished with her, she’ll want to go back home to Lucca, rather than hang around waiting to be reunited with Signor Fortunato.’ He ran a weary hand over his stubbly cheeks. ‘I think I’d better go and have a shave. Why don’t you go and tell her what’s happening and check that she’ll be able to make her own way home. And you can give her a bit of good news: I got my people to pack up her stuff, and her bag’s in the corner of my office, so she doesn’t need to worry about trying to get it back from the yacht. Thanks for all your help and I’ll see you this afternoon.’

I got up and the two of us went out into the corridor. He opened a door partway along and I saw Heather in there sitting at a table, looking nervous. The lieutenant left me with her and went off to have his shave. I explained what was happening and gave her the good news about her belongings, stressing that she wasn’t a suspect but that the lieutenant was hoping she might be able to provide a few extra snippets of information that could help their inquiry, and she looked reassured. I said she would probably be out in the next hour or so and asked if she was happy making her own way back to Lucca. She assured me that it would be no problem at all for her to get the ferry and the train, and then jumped to her feet to come over and give me another hug.

‘Thank you, Dan, and please give my thanks to Anna. You’ve both been super kind to me. Any time you’re in Lucca, please give me a call and come and have something to eat. I’m quite a good cook, honest.’

I thanked her and told her I would be sure to call. After that, I went out looking for Anna and Oscar, deciding to walk down to the seafront and, if I didn’t see her, to text her. In fact, I almost bumped into her halfway down the road as she was staring at a handbag in a shop window. I went over and was about to suggest I buy it for her as a peace offering for leaving her to her own devices when I saw the price and decided to leave that one for the oligarchs. Oblivious to my fleeting moment of almost generosity, she turned around when Oscar spotted me and dragged her in my direction.

‘That was quick, Dan.’ Her face lit up, but only until I broke the news to her that I would be going out to the yacht full of TV people this afternoon rather than this morning. She muttered a typical Italian expression of annoyance, which translates literally as, ‘Pig misery!’ Don’t ask me why. I hastened to apologise and was seriously considering revisiting the idea of the handbag, even though it would probably have involved taking out a mortgage, when I was saved by the bell. Anna’s phone started ringing. She answered and it was immediately clear that she’d been expecting the call.

‘Ciao, Tamsin, that would be great. And you’re sure you don’t mind if I bring the dog?’ She glanced across at me. ‘Although I can happily leave my boyfriend behind – just say the word. Well, if that’s okay, I’d love to. Hang on and I’ll see what Dan says.’ She looked down at me as I was scratching Oscar’s ears. ‘I bumped into an old friend a few minutes ago and she’s invited us for lunch with her. She was just checking to see if it’s okay. Are you going to be tied up with your Carabinieri friends or might you be able to spare me an hour or two of your precious time?’

I hastily assured her that I would be only too delighted and I heard her relay the information to her friend. Her last words were intriguing.

‘You’ll come and collect us? Twelve-thirty. Perfect. We’ll be waiting at the jetty.’

She dropped the phone back into her bag and turned towards me.

‘That was a woman called Tamsin Taylor. She used to work for a company making historical TV documentaries and she and I worked together four years ago when she was making a programme about the Palio in Siena. I was advising on the historical side of things and acting as interpreter. It was quite fun, certainly a lot more fun than my time on the movie last year where I met you. No murders in her programmes, I’m pleased to say. She’s now working for a new TV company and she’s here with a bunch of other TV people holidaying on a yacht and that’s where we’ve been invited for lunch.’

‘Tamsin Taylor…?’ I recognised that name and I must have looked completely gormless because she actually burst out laughing.

‘That’s right, Sherlock, we’ve just been invited for lunch on board the Regal Princess.’

My head was spinning. On the one hand, this would be an excellent way of mingling with the people on the boat in an informal manner, but the complication was that they had already seen me in the company of the Carabinieri. At the very least, people were going to be suspicious of me, maybe hostile. I did my best to explain the problem to Anna but, ever pragmatic, she just shrugged her shoulders.

‘So what? Did you do any interrogating or questioning or whatever you call it when you were on the boat yesterday? In fact, did you say anything to anybody?’ Seeing me shake my head, she continued. ‘You’re English and you speak Italian. We’ll just tell them you were helping out with translating. That doesn’t mean you’re connected with the police. It’ll be fine, you’ll see.’

I hoped she was right. Certainly, the idea of going back aboard the Regal Princess appealed to my investigative instincts, but whether it would further the murder investigation remained to be seen.

11

MONDAY LUNCHTIME

At half past twelve, we were waiting on the jetty as instructed when a sleek, highly polished wooden launch purred up to collect us. It was driven by Christopher, the deckhand from the Regal Princess, and alongside him was Anna’s friend, Tamsin, whose face I immediately recognised from the previous day. She was the very good-looking woman who had been sitting between Edgar Beaumont, my number one suspect with the vague Welsh accent, and the serious lawyer type, Neil Vaughan.

She didn’t immediately recognise me but when she did, Anna gave her the interpreter story and she appeared to buy it. We stepped down into the launch and took seats on comfortable, red, velvet cushions. Oscar looked longingly at the cushions but had to settle for the floor, from where he was soon happily sniffing the breeze as we set off. While Anna and Tamsin carried on catching up, I reflected on what I might now be able to find out. I had phoned the lieutenant to tell him about the chance lunch invitation and he’d agreed that it was a very good opportunity to talk to the four suspects who might or might not have been the voices I’d heard in Lucca. At the same time, it would give me the opportunity to get a bit of inside information on the people on board.

Although the crew of the mystery boat and/or Heather’s boyfriend – or more correctly, her former boyfriend now – were still the most likely candidates for Jerome Van der Groot’s murder, there still remained a question over whether he might in fact have been killed by somebody on the Regal Princess. In particular, I wanted to do my best to identify the voices I’d overheard in Lucca, but I was also interested to know the dynamics of the group. Why were they all here? Had this been intended as a very swish business meeting or had Van der Groot simply been trying to say thank you to some loyal colleagues by taking them on an all-expenses-paid cruise? Had there been any arguments? Had there maybe even been a bit of bed-hopping going on that could have aroused jealousy?

It promised to be an interesting couple of hours.

We boarded the yacht by the rear platform as before and it was clear that this was the watersports centre as well as being the main access to the vessel. A grey rubber dinghy with a little outboard motor was moored to one side and I wondered if this was similar to the one that had conveyed the murder victim on his ill-fated last voyage. As far as I knew, that one was still being investigated by Forensics. A kayak and a couple of jet skis were lying on the low-level deck that protruded from the hull barely a few feet above the waterline. Alongside the jet skis, I spotted the man with the American accent I’d heard while I’d been listening in to the lieutenant’s questions around the lunch table yesterday. He was wearing a wetsuit and looked as if he’d just been out on the water. With him was one of the female guests, whose face I recognised but I couldn’t remember her name. She was also wearing a wetsuit and was in the process of being helped out of scuba-diving gear by a female deckhand. Clearly, the Regal Princess offered more than limitless alcohol.

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