Page 36 of Murder in Verona

‘Not so much as a hello.’

‘Can you think of anybody who might have wanted to harm him?’

‘Absolutely not. Apart from being a lovely, sweet, immensely generous man, he was a national treasure.’

Ventura adopted an apologetic tone. ‘I’m sorry I have to ask you this, but this is a murder investigation and that means asking some difficult questions. Could you tell me, please, whether yourbrother left you anything in his will?’ From what Violetta had told me, I felt sure I already knew the answer and it came as no surprise to see Tosca shake her head.

‘No, but I didn’t expect anything. He’d been so amazingly generous to me already; how could I possibly expect him to leave me anything else?’

When we got back outside again, I glanced across at Ventura. ‘That was either one of the most convincing performances I’ve ever seen in my life, or she really did love her brother.’

He nodded. ‘I completely agree. I must admit that my opinion of her mother is going down by the hour. Can you believe she just cut her child off with nothing at the age of eighteen and, by the sound of it, didn’t bother to make any effort to trace or contact her ever again? And then trying to tear the two siblings apart?’ He ran his hand over his shaved head in disbelief. ‘Whatever happened to motherly love?’

We stopped when we reached the police car – fortunately still with its wheels – and leant on the front wing in the sunlight while Oscar wandered over to leave his mark on a nearby tree. Ventura glanced across at me.

‘So what have we got? Everybody loved the victim. He was a national treasure. Yes, he used to be a womaniser, but his new wife had sorted all that out. His bank records confirm that he was a very wealthy man who didn’t owe anybody any money, no secret addictions, nothing. Why would anybody want to kill him?’

The same thoughts had been running through my head. ‘The more I think about it, if it really was foul play – and I still believe that it was – who could possibly have had a motive to kill him?’ I counted the possibles off on my fingers. ‘His estranged sister who resented being sidelined by him but is now deeply grateful to him and has good reason to love him dearly. Two: his sister-in-law, with or without the help of her husband or his sister, who deliberatelyset out to murder first Rodolfo and now will have to murder his mother so as to inherit 100 per cent of the business. The problem with that is the fact that, according to the terms of his mother’s new will, almost everything will in fact revert to Tosca after Violetta’s death, so it would be pointless unless they kill the daughter too. Three murders? Do I see Alfredo, Rosina or Ingrid as serial killers? Honestly, no.’

The inspector nodded in agreement. ‘But did they know that almost everything in Violetta’s will is going to go to Tosca? She told me she only changed her will last week to that effect. One thing’s for certain, I think we have to sit down and speak to Violetta and ensure that she spells out the terms of her new will to her nephew and niece at this afternoon’s board meeting. That way, if they really are planning to make her their next victim, they should be made to realise how pointless it would be. What this new will does do, of course, is provide a motive for Tosca to now go ahead and kill the mother she hates.’ He glanced at me and shook his head in disbelief. ‘Maybe all that stuff about how much she loved her generous brother was just a fiction and she’s the person who killed him and now she’s preparing to kill her mother next so as to inherit what she sees as her birthright. God knows, I’m glad I’m not a multimillionaire. Money makes everything far too complicated.’

I added a few more possibilities. ‘Another thought is that Ingrid and Rodolfo might have been having a clandestine affair and she murdered him in revenge after he dumped her to marry Alessia, but why wait almost a year to do it? And if it’s none of the above, we also have Clarissa, the principal, who was allegedly dumped by Rodolfo when he met Alessia. Maybe she was so jealous, she decided to kill him off but, like Ingrid, why wait a year to do it? Alternatively, there might be somebody at the villa, like our would-be Casanova, Romeo, but it’s tenuous in the extreme. Anddon’t let’s forget the theatrical agent who might have been desperate to inherit a million euros before Rodolfo changed his will, or the husband of the good-looking barista down by the lake, or some jealous lover from the past, and that’s about all we’ve got.’ I caught his eye. ‘And this is assuming that Rodolfo was the murderer’s intended target, and I’m still not convinced.’

Ventura nodded. ‘Ever since you suggested that this morning, I’ve been thinking about what you said. If Alessia was the real target, then there’s a very real risk that the killer might try again, hoping to do what he or she didn’t manage to do the first time.’ He raised his eyes to the heavens. ‘Alessia might now be under threat, and the same could apply to her mother-in-law. I think you and I should head back to the villa now and sit down with both women and talk them through the possible ramifications of this case.’

‘I’m not sure how Alessia’s going to react, but I’m pretty certain that Violetta will blow a gasket when you suggest that she might be targeted by her own family. The problem, as we both know, is that we have no proof for the moment apart from a dodgy oil can. It’s not a lot, is it?’

‘Not a lot at all. Maybe I should just do as my boss keeps telling me and write Rodolfo’s death off as an accident and leave it at that.’ He looked across at me and said it before I did. ‘The trouble is that I’m not built that way, and I can tell that you aren’t either.’

20

FRIDAY LATE MORNING

We got to the villa at half past eleven and I was pleased to see Alessia’s red Porsche parked outside. Hopefully, this meant that she was home. I spotted Dolores, who told me Violetta was in her apartment and had indicated that she would be lunching in the dining room before a car would come at two-thirty to ferry her to the Agri Argento head office for the board meeting at three. Safe in the knowledge that she wasn’t going anywhere for now, we started with the grieving widow.

Alessia greeted us at the door of her apartment on the top floor and gave a special welcome to Oscar, who was clearly delighted to see her again. She led us into a huge living room and I took a good look around. The mantelpiece was far less cluttered than Violetta’s and the only visible memento of her husband was an identical heart-shaped silver frame with his photo and the wordsI love you.

Alessia pointed at the French windows leading out onto the roof terrace.

‘Why don’t we sit outside? Make yourselves comfortable while I get us something to drink.’

At this time of the morning, the terrace was shaded from thesun and Ventura and I sat down in wicker armchairs, enjoying the gentle breeze. A few moments later, Alessia emerged with two bottles of cold beer and set them on the table before us. She had even brought a bowl of water for Oscar. I noticed that she opted for orange juice, which was probably a lot more sensible on a hot day, but, after the morning of questioning, a cold beer suited me just fine. The inspector thanked her for her hospitality and decided to get straight down to brass tacks.

‘As you know, we’re investigating your husband’s death, and another theory has presented itself. Given that you also often drove the Jaguar, we have to consider the possibility that your husband was killed by mistake.’

She looked puzzled. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘Could it be that the target wasn’t your husband? What if the murderer was after you?’ As he floated this idea across her, I watched her face closely, reading disbelief and then, understandably, fear.

‘Somebody was trying to killme?’

‘As I say, it’s a theory we’re considering. I’m afraid this means I now have to ask you if you can think of anybody from your past who might have wished you harm: old boyfriends, professional rivals, anybody basically who disliked you a lot?’

I could imagine all too well the thoughts that must be rushing through her head. Assuming that she had had nothing to do with her husband’s death – and I still considered this to be unlikely in spite of what Romeo had said – being informed that she might be at risk of being murdered must have been at best unsettling and more probably downright terrifying.

We had to wait almost a minute before she replied, shaking her head slowly from side to side as she tried to come to terms with what she’d just been told. Picking up that she was troubled, Oscar got up from my side and wandered over to rest his headagainst her leg in a gesture of canine support, just as he had done for Tosca. Anna had often said he had missed his vocation and should have been a therapy animal. Alessia looked down and fondled his ears as she attempted a reply.

‘You really think that somebody might have been trying to murdermerather than Rodolfo? But why me? I can’t think of anybody who might hate me to that extent. There are no skeletons in my cupboard that I’m aware of. I was married for three years when I was very young. That ended in divorce when I was twenty-four – that’s thirteen years ago – but it wasn’t an acrimonious divorce and he married again ages ago. We got married too young but were sensible enough to end things before they became unbearable. After that, I’ve had a number of boyfriends over the years but none were very serious and I can honestly say that none of those relationships ended particularly rancorously. As for professional rivals, yes, I’m sure there are some women out there who wish they were doing as well as I am, but I can’t for a moment believe that any of them would actively consider trying to kill me.’

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