‘No, not at all.’ I was trying desperately to sound encouraging. ‘He’s just helping them with their inquiries.’ I groaned internally at my choice of words. How many times in my life had I used this exact same cliché? Technically, I was right, he hadn’t been arrested… at least not yet.
One look at Lina’s face told me that this didn’t come as a total surprise to her. I gave her a few moments to collect herself before asking a gentle question. ‘Did he say something to you, Lina?’
She had to clear her throat before answering. ‘Not really, but I could tell there was something not quite right with him ever since that awful man came across and spilt wine on him. He’s only mentioned him a couple of times since then, but there was real anger in his eyes when he did. What happened to those poor women really got under Virgilio’s skin. He didn’t tell me that he met the man again last night. What happened between them? He didn’t do anything stupid, did he?’
I related what Virgilio had told me, emphasising that there was no proof against him, and ending on a note of optimism. ‘I imagine he’ll be back here in a couple of hours.’ The waiter from last night approached us and I caught Lina’s eye. ‘I think it would be sensible for us to eat, don’t you?’ An idea struck me. ‘We can ask them to give you a doggy bag for Virgilio, so he has something to eat later on.’ As I used the words ‘doggy bag,’ I sensed interest from my four-legged companion. Like I say, he doesn’t miss much when it comes to food.
It was another excellent meal but none of us – apart from Oscar, of course – felt like eating very much. Instead of the gastronomic menu, all three of us opted for just some bruschetta as a starter followed bycacciucco– a local speciality fish stew. With big lumps of fish floating in a creamy sauce laced with herbs, this was excellent. Accompanied by fresh bread and cold white wine, and followed by home-made ice cream, it would have been a great meal if we’d been in the mood. But, understandably, we weren’t.
Anna was clearly applying her considerable brain to the case and she soon asked the most important question of all. ‘We know that Virgilio didn’t kill him, so who did – if indeed it wasn’t just an accident?’
My mind had been running on similar lines ever since Virgilio had been marched off. ‘Inspector Bellini gave me the impression that he thought it was an accident and he’s probably just following procedure. If it turns out it was murder, then it’s logical to assume that it was somebody here at the hotel, either a member of staff, a guest or one of the diners here last night from outside. Bellini told me the hotel has CCTV capable of picking up anybody trying to get onto the grounds, but I’m not so sure. In my experience, CCTV often has blind spots. In fact, the first thing I’m going to do once I’ve had my coffee is to go and see if I can plot the field of vision of each of the cameras. I’ll start by asking Rita if I can have a look at the images on the screen.’
Anna nodded approvingly. ‘Assuming for a moment that it was murder, and the killer is somebody here, who do you think it might be?’
I shrugged my shoulders and, while the waiter brought us our coffees, I looked around the terrace. Tonight, seven tables were occupied, Among them was the table where the victim had been sitting the previous evening, now set for two. The man and woman at that table were hard to make out in the shadows but they were unmistakably the same two from last night. I studied them carefully and, at least from a distance, they didn’t appear to have been too badly affected by the death of their former dinner companion. I would dearly have liked to see a guest list and I wanted to see if I could persuade Rita to let me have access to this as soon as I finished my meal. Of course, now that I was no longer an official member of a police force, she was under no obligation to reveal these details to me and, indeed, would be well within her rights to refuse, but this was her cousin – albeit a distant cousin – we were talking about.
The four Brits were at the same table as the previous night but were noticeably less ebullient. The idea that they might be in close proximity to a brutal murderer was no doubt responsible for this. Ingrid and Martin with their dachshund were at a nearby table and, further over, Tatsuo was eating alone as before. Near him was the young couple, still apparently engrossed in each other to the exclusion of all else, but no doubt even they were shaken by recent events. That left the man with the flowery shorts who had come charging up the path towards us. Tonight, he was sitting quietly with his wife or partner, and just past their table, I spotted the two men I had mentally nicknamed the hard nuts. Last night, they hadn’t been here, but tonight, they were – no doubt as a result of the inspector’s instructions that nobody was to leave the hotel.
Without names, ages or nationalities, I was almost completely in the dark. If it really had been murder, any one of our fellow diners could have hit a seriously drunk man over the head and tipped his body off the cliff – or even just given him a shove. The key to discovering the identity of the murderer had to be motive. Why had Graziani been targeted? What did we know about the victim, apart from the fact that he’d done some terrible things two decades ago and had subsequently been locked up in prison until only a month ago? It seemed logical to assume that his death might in some way be connected with the crimes he’d committed long ago but, of course, other reasons could also exist. I would dearly have liked to know more about the man, but this information would be on the Italian police computer system and not available to me.
Or would it?
I pulled out my phone and walked down into the garden, out of earshot of any of the guests, and called Marco Innocenti in Florence. I had first met Marco when he had been Sergeant Innocenti, Virgilio’s right-hand man, and he had since been promoted to inspector. I knew him well by now and trusted him implicitly as a capable police officer and friend, and I felt confident that he trusted me. He and Virgilio had always had a close working relationship, and I felt sure he would be only too keen to help his boss. He answered almost immediately.
‘Ciao, Dan. How’s Elba?’
‘Ciao, Marco. It’s a beautiful island. I’m not interrupting your dinner, am I? Listen, we have a situation here and we need your help.’
‘Of course, what’s happened?’ He sounded intrigued.
‘Does the name Ignazio Graziani mean anything to you? From about twenty years ago.’
‘Graziani… no, I can’t say it does. Mind you, twenty years ago, I was still in short trousers.’ This was an exaggeration, but it didn’t surprise me that the name was unfamiliar to him.
‘He was sent down for twenty-five years for multiple cases of kidnap and aggravated rape – in or around Pisa, I believe.’
‘Thecommissariowould be able to help you there, Dan. He used to work out of Pisa.’
‘That’s the problem, Marco – Virgilio certainly did know Graziani.’ I went on to outline the events of the last twenty-four hours, culminating in Virgilio being escorted to the local police station for questioning. Marco sounded understandably shocked.
‘They’ve arrested the boss? For murder?’
‘No, they’re just questioning him at the moment, but there’s quite a lot of circumstantial evidence that isn’t going to help his case. What I want to do is to help him any way I can, and what I’m hoping you can do is to find out as much as possible about Ignazio Graziani. I believe he’s originally from the island of Elba, so names and addresses of friends and relatives would be good. Also if you can find out as much as possible about his victims, that would be very helpful.’
‘Of course. I’ll get onto it straight away. Assuming it wasn’t the boss – and we both know it can’t have been him – are there any other suspects?’
‘At the moment, it looks likely that the murderer – assuming that it was murder, and that’s by no means definite – is somebody here in this hotel. The good news is that the place is only half-full so that probably narrows it down to about a dozen people.’
‘Give me their names and I’ll do a bit of digging. It’s the least I can do for the boss.’
‘I don’t have names at the moment but I’m hoping to be able to get them from the receptionist. I’ll do what I can and I’ll e-mail you what I find out.’
When the conversation ended, I returned to Anna and Lina. ‘Marco’s on the case. Between us, we’ll find out what really happened. Don’t you worry.’
Neither of them looked convinced, and I didn’t blame them. All I could do for now was hope I was right.
8
