Page 14 of Murder in Verona

‘It was just after lunch and the sun was out – like today. He told me he was going down to the lake for a walk after lunch.’

‘Was that something he often did?’

‘To be honest, no, not really. Only when he needed to clear his head – like after an argument.’

‘Had he had an argument with anybody that lunchtime?’

He shrugged his shoulders. ‘I’ve no idea. He didn’t say anything to me, although he wasn’t smiling.’

This fact went straight into my mental notebook as worthy of further investigation. Had there been an argument and, if so, with whom and about what? ‘Where did the accident happen?’ By now I could see him eyeing me suspiciously. It was clear he thought I was asking far too many questions but, at least for now, he didn’t query why.

He swivelled on the tractor seat and pointed downhill in the direction of the lake. ‘Less than a kilometre down there. There’s a long, straight bit of road with a nasty right-hand bend at the end. Giacomo – he farms that land – saw the whole thing. He said the E-type came down the road like a rocket and just ploughed into the big old cypress tree and caught fire. I went down to take a look that afternoon before they took it away and the car was almost unrecognisable. You could hardly tell that it had once been a car at all. I shudder to think what state his body must have been in.’

‘You say Giacomo is the farmer who works the land down there?’

‘Yes, you can see his farm from here.’ He pointed and I could just see the red tiled roof of a farmhouse alongside two huge trees. That should be easy to find. I tried a more direct question.

‘Do you think it’s possible that somebody tried to murder him?’

He looked across and shrugged helplessly. ‘Don’t think I haven’t been asking myself the exact same question. The thing is,how could it have happened? That Jaguar was almost sixty years old, but it was in beautiful condition and he was always fiddling with it or just polishing it. Maurizio gave it a full service only a couple of months ago so there can’t have been anything seriously wrong with it. Besides, if somebody had been tampering with the brakes, surely the police would have noticed when they investigated the accident – although, like I say, there wasn’t much left to examine after the crash and the fire.’ He was still looking closely at me and a hint of a smile appeared on his face. ‘So what are you: police, secret service, insurance investigator?’

I smiled back and decided not to prevaricate. ‘All right, you’ve got me. I have a private investigation agency and Rodolfo’s mother is convinced that his death was suspicious. She’s asked me to look into it and so far, the only people who know why I’m here are Dolores, Clarissa the principal, and now you. Could I ask you to keep it to yourself for a day or two?’

‘Of course.’ He seemed pleased to be included in the secret. ‘If somebody really did murder Signor Rodolfo, you can count on my 100 per cent cooperation.’

‘Thank you very much. By the way, my name’s Dan Armstrong.’ I pulled out my notebook and started to take notes. ‘Could I have your name, please?’

‘Giuseppe Pavese, but everybody calls me Beppe.’

‘Thanks, Beppe. Have you worked here long?’

‘Thirty-three, no, thirty-four years. I started looking after the grounds when the villa was still just a private house. My father worked for the Argento family for forty years before me.’

This sounded promising. He’d obviously been here since before the villa had changed to its current use and so he probably knew as much about this place as anybody. Also, if he had worked here so long, it made it less likely that he would suddenly have decided to murder his boss. Not impossible, but unlikely.

I decided to find out more about Rodolfo’s classic car collection. ‘You could maybe start by telling me where Rodolfo kept his cars. Presumably under lock and key?’

He pointed towards the rear of the villa. ‘Some years ago, he converted the old stables into the garage for the cars. It’s like a museum in there, the cars all lined up side by side.’

‘How many cars are there in the collection?’

‘Twelve… eleven now. One more beautiful than the next.’

‘What happened to the wreck of the Jaguar? Is it still with the police?’

He shook his head. ‘I saw Maurizio the other day and he told me he’d been asked to pick it up from the police pound and take a look at it for them – presumably checking for signs of tampering. It’s in his garage now and he’s also been asked to see if there’s any chance of rebuilding it, although I’d be amazed if there’s anything worth saving.’

‘Surely the police wouldn’t have asked him to do that?’

‘No, that was Alfredo, Signor Rodolfo’s cousin. Have you met him?’

‘Not yet, what’s he like?’

He glanced around before answering. ‘To be honest, he’s a bit of a pain. Don’t quote me on that. Let’s just say that the most important person in Alfredo’s life is Alfredo. Not like his sister – she’s always got a friendly word for everybody and she’s definitely got her head screwed on, that one.’

‘That would be Rosina? She’s more clued up than he is?’

‘Without her, he’d be lost. He only seems to be interested in golf and fast cars.’ He shook his head ruefully.

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