After our drinks, I took Oscar back through the campsite to the beach, picking up a piece of driftwood on the way, and then spent ten minutes by the water’s edge repeatedly throwing the stick into the sea for Oscar to swim out and retrieve. When even he was beginning to tire, we went back up the beach again and sat down alongside Anna. While I dug out Oscar’s food bowl, she handed me a ham and cheese focaccia sandwich and passed on some interesting information.
‘I’ve just been talking to Stefano, the advanced-class teacher – you know, the one with the dreadlocks. This is his summer job. He’s been doing it now for four years while he finishes his university studies in Rome. He’s another history fanatic like me, and he’s doing archaeology. His special interest is the Etruscan period.’
I had heard of the Etruscans but knew very little about them. Anna must have seen the puzzled expression on my face and took pity on me.
‘The Etruscan civilisation predates the Romans by five or six centuries. They occupied much of west and central Italy until the Romans finally assimilated them into their culture, granting them Roman citizenship. What Stefano was telling me was that for the Etruscans, Elba was very important indeed.’
I thought I’d better show that I was paying attention although, to be perfectly honest, I had just finished giving Oscar his lunch and was more interested in my sandwich. Two and a half hours falling off a sailboard certainly builds up an appetite. ‘Was that because they were traders maybe? Presumably, Elba made a convenient stopping-off point.’
‘I’m sure it did, but the importance of the island was its mines. Elba sits on top of some of the richest deposits of iron ore in the Mediterranean. Because of this, the island was of great importance not only to the Etruscans but also to the Greeks, the Romans, and subsequent rulers, all the way through the centuries. Anyway, what he told me was that there used to be a major Etruscan mining community just inland from here and he’s been finding bits of Etruscan pottery on the beach and bigger pieces scattered across the seabed.’ She looked up at me. ‘You know you were telling me that those two uncommunicative guys at the hotel areCarabinierifrom the TPC? Well, it occurred to me that this might be the reason why they’re here. I wonder if somebody has been digging up Etruscan relics and selling them on the black market. Trading in antiquities is a criminal offence in Italy.’
This really was interesting – so interesting that I even put my sandwich down. ‘I’ve been wondering what those two are doing here. That could well be it.’ I glanced back over my shoulder towards the campsite. ‘Aldo Graziani has spent an awful lot of money buying the land and investing in the infrastructure for his new all-singing all-dancing campsite, and I’ve been wondering where he got his money from. Do you think that Aldo might be a person of interest to theCarabinieriart squad?’
‘Could be. There’s a lot of money to be made in the illicit antiquities trade.’ She caught my eye. ‘Do you think his brother’s death might somehow be connected with Etruscan objects?’
I was thinking along the same lines myself and I took my time before replying. Finally, I shook my head. ‘It’s an interesting theory but I can’t really see how. Ignazio has been in prison for the last twenty years and he was only released last month. Now, if it had beenAldowho had ended up dead, there might well be a connection, but I can’t see how Ignazio could have been involved with the sale of illegal artefacts. Of course, it might be that the murderer was actually aiming for Aldo, because of something to do with the antiquities trade, and killed the wrong man in the dark. If that were the case, I suppose that would indicate a link to the Etruscans. This afternoon, I’ll talk it through with Virgilio and see what he thinks. It’s certainly a coincidence, and I don’t like coincidences in a murder inquiry.’
‘And you still think it was murder?’
I didn’t have to stop and think before answering. ‘Yes, almost certainly, but it’s still just an unproven hunch. As far as I can see, it most likely was committed by somebody connected with one of Ignazio’s victims from twenty years ago who’s been waiting patiently for the chance to get revenge. Don’t forget, we’re in a country where memories are long and grudges even longer. Alternatively, I’m tending to think that it might have been somebody closer to home. The fact is that his brother had clear motive for getting rid of him so as to inherit his share of the campsite and rid himself of a serious embarrassment. For Ignazio to conveniently fall off a cliff strikes me as distinctly suspicious.’
At that moment, Oscar jumped to his feet, tail wagging. I followed the direction of his nose and saw Virgilio and Lina approaching. They both made a fuss of Oscar, and Virgilio gave me a sympathetic smile.
‘How did it go? Were you swimming with the fishes?’ He grinned. ‘I hear it’s very popular with the criminal community.’
‘I’ve done a lot of falling in, but less than yesterday.’ I glanced across at Anna. ‘To be honest, I even started enjoying myself a bit.’ I turned back to Virgilio. ‘What about you? Did you and Marco come up with anything new on our friend Graziani?’
‘One or two interesting discoveries but nothing major. According to the prison log, during the whole of the twenty years that Graziani was behind bars, his brother never visited him even once. Clearly no love lost there, which makes it all the more peculiar – and suspicious – that the two brothers were dining together on Saturday night. Marco’s still looking closely into each of Ignazio’s four victims and any connections they might have had with the sort of people who go around pushing people off cliffs. So far nothing, but he’s still looking. I spent half an hour with Rita checking the CCTV footage and there’s no sign of anybody unexpected leaving the hotel and going in the direction of the clifftop. There’s just you taking Oscar for his walk along with me and then me going out again and returning after eleven. Apart from us, there’s just the victim of course, going out but not coming back, but none of the other guests or staff pop up on camera.’
I had been expecting as much. ‘That means that if he was murdered by somebody at the hotel, they must have sneaked out through the trees so as to avoid the cameras. Checking the surveillance cameras implies a certain degree of professionalism, doesn’t it? But how did the killer get out of the hotel in the first place? Presumably, the CCTV on the terrace doesn’t show anybody going out that way and we know that the camera by the front door didn’t either. Is there another way?’
Virgilio nodded. ‘Rita and I discussed that. There are only two other doors: one from the kitchen that was firmly locked after the kitchen staff had gone home at ten, and a fire door, which is alarmed. I went for a little walkabout and discovered that there is a third possible exit, but it isn’t a door. It’s a big window on the first-floor landing leading out onto the roof of the outhouse behind. There’s a stepladder conveniently propped up against the rear of the outhouse so our killer could have got out and back in again without being seen. I even climbed out through it myself to check that anybody could have done it.’
This at least proved that a determined guest or staff member at the hotel could have been the murderer, and I added the obvious corollary. ‘That means that if the killer was one of the guests, the murder was carefully planned and, once again, it shows professionalism or maybe inside information. It might be worth doing a thorough investigation of all the staff members who were around, including the owner. But there’s another possibility.’ I went on to relate to him what I had heard this morning about Ignazio pestering local women and maybe attempting to abduct a girl here on the island twenty years ago, resulting in his being forced to leave for the mainland. I also repeated what I’d heard in both bars about Aldo finding the death of his brother most satisfactory, but that Aldo himself hadn’t been best liked either.
Virgilio listened with interest until I’d finished. ‘This makes it even more likely that Ignazio Graziani wasmurdered– whether mistaken for his brother or on purpose remains to be seen. I need to pass all this information on to the inspector. I suppose it’s possible that he already knows it, but I have my doubts. The very least he should do is investigate the alleged attempted abduction here on the island and find out if it really happened. If so, is the girl – she must be a grown woman now – still around? Are her family still here? Might they have been waiting twenty years to take the law into their own hands?’ I could hear the frustration in his voice, and I felt the same way. If only we had been the investigating officers…
But, I told myself, we weren’t. I was here on holiday and that was that. This death was nothing to do with me.
11
MONDAY AFTERNOON
My afternoon windsurfing lesson wasn’t as disastrous as I had expected, and by the end, I was definitely beginning to get the hang of tacking, although gybing defeated me. I still spent quite a lot of time in the water but I definitely began to feel that I was making progress. As for the Graziani case, I also felt that Virgilio and I were making progress, but there was a long way to go – starting with finding out whether the police had identified the murder weapon.
I got the answer to that question when Anna and I walked back to the hotel. I immediately saw that there were no longer any police vehicles in the car park and the expression on Virgilio’s face when I spotted him on the terrace said it all.
‘Half an hour ago, Inspector Bellini sent his sergeant to inform me that they’ve found no sign of a murder weapon and the pathologist is now agreeing with him that the wound to the back of the victim’s head could have been caused in the fall. In consequence, as we thought, Bellini has effectively closed the case and put it down to misadventure – an unfortunate accident brought about principally by an excess of alcohol. By the sound of it, the pathologist reports that Graziani had consumed enough wine to sedate a rhino.’
I was secretly pleased and relieved that this went a long way towards removing the cloud that had been hanging over Virgilio’s head and, although he wasn’t showing it, I felt sure he must feel the same way.
While Anna went upstairs to take a shower, I sat down with Virgilio, with Oscar sprawled on the tiles at our feet. ‘Did you have a chance to pass on to the inspector what we’ve discovered?’
‘Not directly. I told the sergeant and he gave me the official line – “all avenues of investigation have been followed up and nothing suggests anything other than an accident”. So Bellini has washed his hands of it.’ He attracted the attention of the waiter and ordered two beers before adding a codicil. ‘The sergeant let slip that Bellini is starting three weeks’ leave tomorrow, taking a holiday in the USA and Canada with his wife and kids. That goes a long way towards explaining his readiness to draw a line under this case as soon as possible.’ I could hear the frustration in his voice, and I felt the same way, but I did my best to conceal it.
‘Well, you said it yourself, you’re not sorry that Graziani’s dead, so maybe the best thing to do is to just accept that and try to put the whole episode behind us.’ This really didn’t sound right to me at all, but I knew it was the sensible and pragmatic thing to do, even if it went totally against my principles.
Virgilio took his time replying, waiting until the waiter had brought our beers and a bowl of water for Oscar. He clinked his glass against mine, took a mouthful and looked me straight in the eye. ‘Itwasmurder, I just know it.’
