Broken Chord (23 page)

“Are you awake?” he asked softly.

“Yes.”

He turned the light on and looked at her. She looked dishevelled and older than her years. It was strange to see someone so tidy and precise in everything she did looking like a shabby old woman.

“You look awful,” he remarked.

She sat up in bed and said, “You look terrible too. You haven’t slept since Madam was murdered. Look at yourself in the mirror.”

He went over to the mirror and stared at himself. He’d eaten very little since the murder, had hardly slept at all and had forgotten to shave. He saw an old man, with a lined sagging face.

Marta got out of bed and stood beside him. “What a fine couple we are!” “What are we going to do?” he asked

“What do you mean?”

“Marta, you know I told you that Lapo came back early that night. Well, I thought maybe he’d forgotten something. He stayed in the house for about twenty minutes before leaving again.”

“What’s so strange about that?” She’d turned quite pale as though terrified he would tell her something horrendous.

“When he left he was carrying a bag.”

“Is that all?” Relief flooded her voice and the colour came back to her face. “What did you think was in it, the murder weapon?”

“I don’t want to think that but…”

“He just came back to get something. Lapo wouldn’t kill his mother. Don’t ever think that.”

“Marta, don’t you see that if I were to tell the police what I saw that’s what they’d think.”

“So… they don’t know him like we do. You’re not going to tell them, are you?”

“No, no. I was thinking of talking to Lapo about it, you know, I want to ask him what was in the bag.”

“What sort of bag was it?”

“A plastic bag, it was pretty full. It occurred to me that he might have put his blood-stained clothes in it.”

“Piero, Lapo didn’t kill his mother.”

“I wish I could be as sure as you are.”

“I’m very sure and I forbid you to ask him about the bag. Promise me you won’t.”

“No, I haven’t and I won’t.”

“Quite right too. And don’t you dare even think of telling the police. It’s none of their business.”

“But you know what he can be like. You don’t think he did it, do you, Marta?”

“No. I’ve already told you. Why should he?”

“I don’t know, but why should anyone, except Guido.”

“That’s what I keep telling myself, you see, I didn’t tell you… but I saw Teo that night.”

“When?”

“He went out at around one, I’d got up to go to the bathroom. You’d just got into bed. Anyway I heard someone, so I went and looked out of the window.”

“Well, if he wasn’t here, he couldn’t have killed his mother.”

“No, but I thought maybe he’d already done it before he went out.”

“Marta, you know he didn’t do it. Teo of all people!”

“Do I? You think it was Lapo, but Teo could have done it just as easily.”

The nurses looked through the glass door watching Marianna who was talking ten to the dozen to Roberto. “She comes almost every day and stays for hours.”

“It’s amazing. She must love him.”

“She’s incredibly beautiful, hardly looks real.”

“Yes, but there’s something about her breaks your heart.”

“Poor little rich girl?”

“In a way, but when something like this happens, it doesn’t matter how rich or how poor you are. There’s nothing like illness for doing away with class and social status. All you care about is the person who’s ill and, believe me, everyone suffers in exactly the same way no matter how much money they have.”

“She’s got such a wonderful smile.”

“Yes, I think she must be a very nice person.”

“Poor kid, and you know her mother was killed in her bed. I don’t know how she can bear it.”

“She’s had more than her fair share. They say these things always come in threes. Let’s hope it’s not true.”

They moved on and Marianna who had been quite unaware of their presence continued talking to Roberto about their future. She knew that one day, soon, everything was going to be absolutely perfect.

Teo came back to the pool and reported, “He’s not there and he hasn’t slept in his bed.”

“Perhaps Franca made his bed.”

“No, I asked her.”

“But, Marianna said his car was in the garage.”

“Maybe he was drunk and fell asleep in the car.”

“Teo, you’ll have to go and look.” Isabella’s voice had an edge of hysteria.

“Calm down. I’ll go now.”

Tebaldo walked back to the house and over to the garage with an appalling feeling of apprehension. In a terrible flash of premonition, he saw Lapo dead in the car. He knew he was there. He would be sitting at the wheel, his body hacked to pieces, an eye hanging out and staring at him. It would be exactly the same, all over again. It was his task to go in and find his brother’s body and let everyone know. His hand clutched convulsively at his stomach, pressing hard against it. He could feel himself shaking.

He pressed the button that opened the garage door and waited until it was fully open and some sunlight streamed in, before gingerly stepping into the half-light and peering into the car. His relief was so enormous that he almost laughed aloud. The car was empty! But the keys were in the car. He opened the car door. He checked it was totally empty. He closed the car door thoughtfully and stepped back.

He straightened up still smiling and began to move away, telling himself what a fool he had been to listen to Isabella’s fussing and his own fears. Then his shoe stuck in something. He was standing in a little pool of dark, sticky stuff which he knew had to be blood. His stomach heaved. He saw where it had come from and moved towards a dark corner of the garage on trembling legs. There was a small, tarpaulin-covered shape. His ears felt strange; a curious tight humming sound blocked out everything else. With dark spots dancing in front of his eyes, he lifted the corner of the heavy cloth. He saw enough and let it drop again. His hand shot to his mouth and he desperately fought against the desire to vomit. His head was spinning. There was only himself and the shape, the horror. He had to get out of this confined space that was closing in on him. He moved quickly taking deep sobbing breaths and once out in the burning sun, looked at the harshly-lit world with frightened eyes. He closed the garage door behind him.

Without knowing what he was doing he went down to the pool and stood there looking at the normality of his family. He answered Isabella’s question, with, “Everything’s fine. I won’t be a minute, I just have to go and…” He broke off and ran swiftly up to the house.

Guido arrived at the
Procura
and once again refused to speak until his lawyer arrived.

“It doesn’t matter, the fact is that we have proof that you went to the villa on the night that Ursula von Bachmann was murdered. We have a witness who saw you driving away from the villa, at great speed at about a quarter to two. When your lawyer comes, perhaps you’ll be ready to explain what you were doing there.”

Dragonetti’s phone rang. He picked it up, listened intently and then said, “I’m on my way.”

He put the phone down.

“Unfortunately, I have to leave but you will wait for me in the corridor, if you please. I’ll be back. Get your story ready and while you’re at it, you’ll probably need an alibi for last night, too.”

Bruno raised his eyebrows in a mute question. Drago said,
“Let’s go.”

Guido stood up and was propelled towards the door. In the corridor he was handed over to a uniformed policeman. He looked bewildered, “Has someone else been murdered?”

Dragonetti smiled and said, “You tell me.”

Then he and Bruno were gone.

Teo vomited yet again. His brother’s body, which he’d barely glimpsed, had not been the horrific spectacle he had expected. A large knife protruded from his chest and that was all, but it had revived the recent memories of his mother’s mutilated corpse. If only he could forget that terrible eye which had seemed to accuse him and now haunted him in his dreams. Lapo’s death had been a clean, efficient job, a quick thrust of the knife into his chest and then his body had been covered and left. His killer hadn’t stopped to lay him waste, but somehow every time he closed his eyes, Teo saw the body of his mother superimposed onto that of his brother and then he’d have to rush to bathroom.

After his macabre discovery he had phoned the police and then staggered back out to break the news to Isabella in a frenetic whisper while the children splashed happily in the pool. She’d been absolutely wonderful and had immediately taken the children up to the safe haven of their bedroom where she was trying to keep them happy and unaware. He’d waited shivering in the hot sun for the police to arrive, wrapping his towelling robe tightly around him.

He watched them drive up and get out of their car. He mutely directed them to the crime scene and pressed the button on the remote control to open the garage door for them. They only stayed in there a brief moment, just enough to verify the truth of what he’d told them.

Jacopo Dragonetti had laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Unfortunately, you seem to be very good at finding dead bodies,” he remarked.

“What! Oh my God!”

“Come upstairs and you can tell me all about it. Bruno, wait for the crime scene officers, would you, and make sure no one goes
anywhere near the area.”

“Who’s around?” asked Bruno.

“Wait! Let me think.” Teo pushed at his hair with one shaking hand. “No one else knows except Isabella. She’s taken the children up to their room.”

“Who else is in the house?”

“Piero and Marta, maybe Paola, that’s the cook and Franca, that’s her helper. I don’t know. Marianna’s out.”

“Alright, I’ll tell them myself. You wait here with my assistant.”

“I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Of course.”

Then he was gone and Tebaldo spent the next quarter of an hour in the bathroom. He washed his face and rinsed his mouth out again then, pulling his robe tightly around him, went back to the study.

He heard the screams clearly, everyone in the house must have heard them, the cries of anguish, wrenched from the woman who had loved Lapo despite all his faults. Marta was hysterical. She continued screaming for what seemed like hours. The cries were still ringing in his ears even after they had subsided into sobs. Would she have cried like that for him, he asked himself, but he knew the answer. She had loved Lapo in a totally unreasonable way, which is to say she’d just loved him without knowing why. He was the child she had lost, the child she had been ready to love, and although she didn’t realise it, he had been an extremely ungrateful recipient of her love, calling her names behind her back: the inquisitor, big-ears, the private dick, and complaining that she wanted to know his every move, that she watched him like a hawk and because he knew that she waited every night to hear his step on the stair before falling asleep.

Dragonetti came back into the room. “Marta’s husband has called their doctor. I’m afraid she’s totally out of it.”

“She loved him. She adored him.”

“Did he love her too?”

“No. He was fond of her, I suppose, but Lapo wasn’t capable of love.”

“Some people aren’t.”

Tebaldo digested that and said, “I’d never thought about it but suppose you’re right.”

“Now, let’s get the details down. When did you last see your brother?”

“At dinner last night. He went out straight afterwards.”

“Any idea where he went?”

“No. He wasn’t ever very forthcoming about his nocturnal activities.”

“Weren’t you worried when he didn’t come down to breakfast?”

“No, he very often didn’t. Lapo comes… used to come back very late, usually at about three or four in the morning so he generally slept in.”

“What about lunch?”

“We were a little surprised when he didn’t come to lunch but it wasn’t that unusual. My wife started getting worried, so Marianna checked that his car was in the garage and we just thought he was sleeping late.”

“She actually opened the garage door?”

“Yes, just enough to see if the car was there. When we knew it was, Isabella was reassured, at first. Later on she asked me to go up to his room and check if he was alright.”

“And did you?”

“Yes. I saw his bed was made, so I thought he’d got up and gone out, but just to be sure I asked Franca if she’d remade his bed but she hadn’t. I think that’s when I got really worried.”

“And decided to look in the car.”

“Yes, I thought perhaps he’d been drunk and fallen asleep in the car. When I saw it was empty, I felt a great wave of relief, until… I, well, I stepped in his blood.”

“And you saw the body.”

“Yes, I lifted the tarpaulin enough to see…” He put a handkerchief to his mouth and took a deep breath. “I didn’t touch him… anything. I left everything the way it was and called you.”

“The pathologist is with him now. He’ll give us a rough
estimate of time of death, but presumably it happened during the night, when he arrived home, whatever time that was. Where were you last night?”

“Asleep in bed. With my wife.”

“Alright. What were you wearing yesterday?”

“Er, chinos and a polo shirt.”

“Bruno, could you go with him and collect them and whatever he was wearing in bed.”

Teo stood up like a sleep-walker. “I didn’t murder my brother.”

“But you found his body and you were right there when your mother’s body was discovered. Was that a clever move on your part to make quite sure that any sign of your presence at the crime scene could be accounted for?”

“No!”

Bruno grabbed his arm and escorted him from the room.

Dragonetti sighed. The only good thing about this death was that it limited the number of suspects for the first death, or did it? Were there two killers? Had Lapo killed his mother? Had someone killed him for that reason, and with the same sort of weapon? Teo had been distraught and sickened by his mother’s death and his physical reaction was the same for this murder, or was he just a very good actor? Either he’d killed them both and forgotten, which was a perfectly feasible reaction of the psyche to horrendous events, or he could have killed Lapo because he knew that his brother had killed Ursula. In that case, why not tell the police about his suspicions? Perhaps he’d only just realised. Perhaps a little slip of the tongue had given the game away. After all, Lapo supposedly hadn’t seen Ursula’s body, but Teo had. He knew exactly what injuries had been inflicted, what mutilations had been carried out and Lapo didn’t. If Lapo had mentioned something that he apparently couldn’t have known, then Teo would have known that his brother was a murderer. So that could make Teo the prime suspect for Lapo’s murder. That was one rather improbable solution.

Alternatively, there was Guido, who had until now been the prime suspect for Ursula’s murder, and had no reason for killing
Lapo. Unless of course, Lapo had seen him that night and was blackmailing him. He gave up on that line of thought. It was too ridiculous. Lapo would have no reason to do that and would have been only too pleased to see Guido arrested.

Teo and Isabella gave each other an alibi, which left Marianna as the only other suspect. It was hard to imagine this young girl ruthlessly murdering her mother and her brother, but it was possible. She would probably have no alibi for this murder and she’d had none for her mother’s.

Of course there was always the nefarious Ozzie, Claudio Rossi, but that would be hard to prove. His only hope was that crime scene investigators would turn up something useful.

Bruno came back in without Tebaldo.

“Do you want him brought back, Drago?”

“No, tell him to join his wife and stay in the bedroom. I don’t want people running about all over the house. I want Marianna brought here as soon as she arrives. So… what do you think?”

“It’s tempting to think that whoever killed Ursula killed Lapo, but I’m not so sure. What about you, Drago?”

“I agree. It would be nice if it were the same person but we mustn’t bank on it. We have to treat them as separate murders. The connections are obvious: same family, same house, same kind of weapon, but what about motive?”

“Retaliation, because Lapo killed his mother?”

“Agreed, an obvious one, so which of the family members would do that?”

“Tebaldo looks good for it. He could have deliberately covered his tracks by finding the body, once again.”

“Right. Go and get his wife. He can stay with the children.”

Bruno was back very quickly, with Isabella in tow.

“Sit down Signora. I need to ask you some questions and it’s very important that you answer truthfully.”

Of course.” She sounded offended.

“Don’t let’s play games. You didn’t tell me the truth last time.”

“About what?”

“About your husband’s movements on the night your mother-in-law was killed.”

“I did.”

“No, you lied. He left the bedroom that night.”

“Not to my knowledge. Who says he did?”

“Forget that. Let’s talk about last night. Did he leave the room last night?”

Isabella felt tears spring to her eyes. No, Teo hadn’t left the room last night, not to her knowledge. He’d woken at three and reached for her and they’d made love and she’d allowed herself to hope. After that she’d slept like a log. “My husband was in bed all night with me.”

“You will swear to that.”

“Yes, as far as I know. I don’t keep waking up and checking whether or not he’s there.” But that was precisely what she had done every night for the last few months, until last night.

“Why were you so worried about Lapo? Your husband says you insisted he look for him.”

“I felt uneasy. After what had happened to Ursula, I couldn’t just ignore the fact that he hadn’t been seen all day.”

“Did the others share your concern?”

“Marianna looked in the garage and then Teo went and looked in his bedroom, but that was later. So, yes, but Marianna was… well, all of us were reassured when we saw his car was here. It was only later when we realised he hadn’t slept in his bed that we got really worried. The rest you know.”