Page 8 of Murder in Verona

The bamboozled look must have been back on my face but, luckily, she took pity on me. ‘Don’t worry, it’s very comfortable, I can assure you. And of course you can take your lovely dog with you, as well as your history lecturer girlfriend.’

I looked across the table at her. Clearly, I wasn’t the only detective in the room. ‘You know Anna?’

She gave me a positively cheeky grin. ‘I knowofher. I drop into the café at Montevolpone at least once a week and I get all the local gossip from Monica. She speaks very highly of you and your girlfriend.’

I chalked one up to Violetta. She certainly didn’t miss much, and this boded well for my chances of getting enough information out of her for me to reach a successful resolution to this case – and with another thirty possible suspects to add to my list, I was going to need all the help I could get.

I waited until the housekeeper had removed the remains of the pasta from the table and disappeared before I turned the conversation back to the matter in hand.

‘As far as the day-to-day running of the company’s concerned, do Alfredo and Rosina share the work? You said something earlier about it having been a mistake to make Alfredo the head of the company.’

A disapproving expression appeared on the old lady’s face. ‘Without Rosina, Alfredo would be lost.’ Absently, she took a mouthful of wine, but I said nothing and waited for her to continue. ‘Alfredo is the older of the two but that was incidental to my brother. He appointed Alfredo managing director simply because he’s a man. Rosina didn’t get a look-in.’ A bitter note entered her voice and she looked up with an air of resignation about her. ‘That’s how it’s always been in my family.’

‘But you think Rosina would have done a better job than her brother?’

‘Definitely. Of course she’s a director of the company, but she ostensibly occupies a more junior role than her brother. In fact, I’m convinced that she’s the brains behind the business and she does most of the work while he spends much of his time on the golf course.’

Before I could react to this, the door behind me opened again and the housekeeper reappeared, wheeling a trolley on which there was a huge leg of roast lamb, surrounded by a mountain of little roast potatoes. Unsurprisingly, I felt movement at my feet and Oscar’s nose appeared by my knee, pointing unerringly towards the meat. I was pleased to see, however, that he resisted the temptation to make an all-out assault on the trolley and just stood there unsuccessfully trying to look as if he was in the latter stages of starvation. I handed him down a breadstick and he accepted it, although the look on his face made it clear what he would have preferred.

Over the roast lamb – which was cooked to perfection – we continued to talk and I learned more about the Argento family. Although they had always been commercially orientated, they had also maintained a long tradition of interest in opera. Violetta herself was named after the main character in Verdi’sLa Traviataand her son Rodolfo’s name came from Puccini’sLa Bohème. Herbrother had named his firstborn after Alfredo fromLaTraviata, and his daughter after Rosina, the heroine of Rossini’sBarber of Seville. Violetta herself declared a lifetime interest in opera but added that she felt sure even Oscar could sing better than she did. What she didn’t know was that when Oscar hears some of Anna’s beloved opera music – particularly when sung by a soprano – he joins in and sings along. The result would no doubt make Maria Callas turn in her grave.

The good news about being able to stay in the Argento villa was that I should be able to find somebody there who would look after Oscar while Anna and I went to the Arena to hear our concert on Saturday. The thought of a howling Labrador interrupting the performance was too terrible for words.

5

SUNDAY AFTERNOON

I have to admit that when I got back from my monumental meal – the lamb had been followed by the most amazing tiramisu – all I felt like doing was collapsing onto the sofa and closing my eyes. Oscar, who had been served a massive bowl of leftover lamb and pasta by the cook, looked similarly afflicted and he stretched out at my feet with a deep sigh and was soon snoring happily. I was still asleep when Anna arrived at four-thirty and I was awakened by the sound of her car, but I must have still been looking dozy when she came in because she knew immediately what I’d been doing.

‘Don’t tell me: you had too much to eat and drink at lunchtime and you’ve been having a nap while I’ve been down in baking-hot Florence, sweating over a pile of dusty sixteenth-century books. It’s all right for some.’

While Oscar hauled himself to his feet and trotted over to greet her, I made a beeline for the kitchen. ‘A cup of tea or something cold?’

‘Definitely something cold, but I don’t know whether to drink it or pour it over myself. God, is it hot!’

I squeezed a couple of lemons, freshly picked from one of myown trees, and made her a big glass of lemonade with sparkling water from the fridge. I added sugar, threw in some ice cubes for good measure and took it across to her. ‘Here, try some of this. I have some good news for you. I’ve managed to get us accommodation in Verona where we should be able to leave Oscar on Saturday night.’

She took the glass of lemonade from me and swallowed a big mouthful gratefully, before pressing the cold glass against her forehead. ‘That is so good, thank you. Well done on finding the accommodation. Where is it?’

I went on to relate what I’d learned from Violetta Argento, and Anna listened with obvious fascination. In particular, when I told her that the Argento family’s Verona villa was now an upmarket academy for opera singers, her eyes lit up. ‘How wonderful! And we’ll be staying there? I wonder if there will be any famous faces among them.’

I thought I’d better not build her hopes up too much. ‘I doubt it; she said it’s to promote and nurture talent for the future, so they’ll probably be new faces to you. But, you never know…’

In spite of my doubts, there was a dreamy expression on her face now. ‘Just imagine if they do their own concerts. We could have a front-row seat.’

‘Best not with Oscar. Somehow I don’t think his singing would be appreciated.’

She smiled back and reached over to ruffle Oscar’s ears. ‘Who knows? Maybe he’ll suddenly develop a hidden talent. In fact, maybe you will too. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you sing. Do you maybe have a voice like José Carreras and you’ve been hiding your light under a bushel all these months?’

‘Trust me, you don’t want to hear me singing. Put it this way: Oscar is very definitely more tuneful than I’ll ever be.’

She grinned and gave a theatrical shudder before returning tomore practical matters. ‘What’s the plan? I’m pretty free next week, so if you want to go to Verona a few days earlier so you can get on with your investigation, I should be able to come with you. I’ve never been to the city before and there’s a load of historical stuff I’m dying to see there.’

‘Great, I told Signora Violetta that I’d have a word with you and then let her know. I also need to check with Lina, who controls my diary, but, as far as I can remember, there’s nothing particularly urgent next week. Seeing as it’s August, everybody’s on holiday and even my customers are taking a bit of time off.’

Since I had set myself up as a private investigator, I had soon discovered that many of my cases were to do with marital infidelity, and the arrival of the month of August meant family holidays for most people, reducing the opportunities for adultery. I had no doubt that this would, inevitably, all start up again in September.

I’d been thinking about how long I would need to spend in Verona so I made a suggestion. ‘If possible, I’d quite like to go up there on Wednesday. That would give me three clear days before the weekend. Would that be okay with you?’

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