Page 16 of Murder in Verona

When I got back to the track by the villa, I found that Beppe had finished mowing the extensive lawn and was taking a break in the shade of a big old chestnut tree. Elektra, still proudly carrying her branch, set off for the villa without a backward glance, while Oscar stood and watched her all the way until she disappeared from view. I definitely got the impression that love might be blooming here so close to Shakespeare’s most romantic city, and I glanced down at him.

‘Parting is such sweet sorrow, isn’t it, old buddy?’ I studiedRomeo and Julietat school and I still remember a few lines.

Oscar turned back towards me, wagged his tail slowly, and together we went over to Beppe where I asked if it would be convenient for him to show me the garage. He agreed immediately and led me around the side of the villa to a long, red brick building, at the end of which was a wide, modern, up-and-over double garage door. He produced a remote control from his pocket, pressed it and the door hummed up, revealing an Aladdin’s cave of precious old vehicles.

I was faced with an amazing selection of classic cars lined upin echelon formation, noses pointing towards the door, with a gaping empty space at the front, presumably where the Jaguar had lived before the accident. I walked down the central gangway, admiring each of them as I went past. Although I probably couldn’t name more than two or three of the individual models, I immediately recognised the legendary badges on the bonnets, ranging from the prancing horse of Ferrari to the Mercedes three-pointed star and the beautiful silver statue of a flying lady on the front of an immaculate, pure-white Rolls-Royce roadster. Along the rear of the huge room was a workbench equipped with tools of all description, in front of which was what looked like a fully functioning hoist, so cars could be raised in the air when access was needed from below. Certainly, it looked remarkably well equipped for an amateur workshop and I had little doubt that the cars had indeed had a terrific amount of care and attention lavished upon them. This of course made a faulty braking system even less likely and deliberate sabotage more probable. I turned to Beppe, who was absently wiping a speck of near invisible dust from the hood of a gleaming, ancient Maserati.

‘Who was allowed to drive these vehicles? Was it just Rodolfo or was there anybody else? Did you drive them?’

‘I’ve driven all of them, but only for short distances to check something we’d been working on. The only one I’ve had the use of for any length of time was the Rolls-Royce. When my daughter got married, Signor Rodolfo very kindly let me borrow it for the day to drive her to and from the church.’

‘Were you the only other one to drive them?’

He shook his head. ‘His wife used to love driving the Jaguar.’

‘She’s interested in classic cars?’ This was probably a very sexist thought on my part but somehow, I had always associated classic or vintage cars with men, rather than women drivers.Clearly, given that Violetta was also an enthusiast, this wasn’t the case.

‘She’sveryinterested. In fact, Rodolfo told me they met at a classic car rally. She owns the most beautiful 1964 Porsche 911, one of the first to be built, and they kept it in perfect condition.’

‘They?’

‘She and Signor Rodolfo together. It was a shared passion of theirs.’

‘She knows her way around cars?’

‘Not as well as he did, but yes, she was quite happy to get her hands dirty.’

This was potentially very interesting. If the brakes of the Jaguar really had been tampered with, it must have been done by somebody with a reasonable working knowledge of car mechanics. From the sound of it, Alessia fell into that category. I was certainly looking forward to questioning her.

‘Anybody else drive the cars?’

‘Signora Violetta from time to time, and Alfredo was occasionally allowed to drive one or two, but he’s a crazy fast driver. His father, Carlo, who died some years ago now, always felt that Alfredo didn’t show the appropriate respect for the classic vehicles. In fact, it was interesting that when Carlo died, he left the collection of cars to Rodolfo rather than to his own son. It was Carlo who first started the collection – it was a real obsession of his – and Rodolfo subsequently added the Ferrari and the Rolls-Royce. They were the only people to drive the cars and, otherwise, nobody had access to them.’

‘And you’re sure that nobody else had a key to this place apart from you, Violetta, Alessia and Rodolfo, and the one in Dolores’s safe?’ He nodded and I added the obvious corollary to this. ‘Is there any way the E-type might have been elsewhere on the day ofthe accident or the day before where somebody could have tampered with it?’

‘Certainly not the day before. It rained all that day and none of these cars have ever seen a drop of rain since they were brought here. Carlo and then Rodolfo only ever took them out when it was dry.’

‘And the morning of the accident?’

He had to stop and think. ‘I was weeding the rose beds outside the front of the villa that day and I remember Signor Rodolfo going off with his wife in her Porsche mid-morning. From the racket it was making, it was obvious there was a hole in the exhaust and they went off to buy a new part. They were only out for an hour or so, but while they were away, Alfredo turned up to show off his brand-new Lamborghini.’

‘Do you thinkhemight have gone anywhere near the garage?’

‘He didn’t get out of the car. Besides, even if he had done, I bet he wouldn’t even have known how to open the bonnet. Alfredo isn’t the sort of person who likes getting his hands dirty. He called me over and asked me if Rodolfo was in, and when I told him he’d gone out, he just snorted and drove off. He’s like that, Alfredo.’

‘I don’t suppose you have any idea where he went, do you?’

He shook his head. ‘All I can tell you is that he headed towards the lake because I could hear his car screaming down the straight as he did so.’

‘When was the last time the E-type was driven before the day of the accident?’

‘I’ve been trying to work that out. It was unusually rainy at the beginning of July so it probably hadn’t been out for at least a couple of days.’ He caught my eye. ‘I know what you’re thinking – somebody might have got in here and tampered with the brakes, but how? There are very few keys and it wasn’t me, so who?’

Who indeed?

I took a good look around, checking the two side doors and all the windows, which were firmly closed and bolted. Had one of these been left open a month ago, maybe because of the heat, allowing the murderer to get in to tamper with the Jaguar? Anything was possible but, after so much time had passed since the accident, there was no way of checking up now. Finally, I thanked Beppe, and Oscar and I went back to the villa and up to our room where we found Anna just finishing off her work. She looked up at me enquiringly.

‘Well, Sherlock, did you find out anything interesting?’

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