Death Brings Gold - Nicola Rocca 4 стр.

“And do you have this woman’s phone number?”

“No, I don’t have it.”

“And do you know where her mother lives?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know that either.”

“But you know the wife’s maiden name, right?”

The man nodded.

“The surname is Pilenga. Martina Pilenga.”

“Martina Pilenga” repeated Walker. Then, to Bassani. “Track this woman down. I want to talk to her as soon as possible.”

“OK, Chief,” the other man replied.

Then Walker turned back to Belmondo.

“Take this,” he said, handing him a business card. “If something else comes to mind – anything that might be useful to us, or that you think could be – don’t hesitate to contact me.”

“I will,” said the man, feeling the tightness in his stomach had gone.

“You can go now,” continued Walker, “but don’t disappear. I might still need you. And remember to come by Headquarters for a formal witness declaration,”

“I live just a few kilometres from here, Chief Inspector, and I have no intention of disappearing” the other said, with a forced smile.

“Better for everyone. Now try to recover, pull yourself together. You look distraught, Belmondo.”

Belmondo said thanks and bid farewell, before turning his back and leaving the flat.

“Chief Inspector Walker?” a voice asked.

David turned.

“Yes?”

“We’re done. We need your authorisation to remove the body.”

“These decisions can only be made by the Public Prosecutor.” He glanced at his watch. “ Fini will be here shortly.”

When Antonio Fini entered the flat, he greeted everyone with a general nod of his head. Then he moved closer to Carrobbio, who was at a short distance from the body.

“Have you taken all the photos we need?” he asked, walking around the body.

“All of them,” the other hurried to reply. “The body, from different angles. From far and near. The room and most of all …”

He stopped talking: the coup de theatre that, he was sure, would have guaranteed him Fini’s complete attention.

“Most of all?” Fini urged him.

Carobbio moved closer.

“Most of all we have recovered three sets of fingerprints. One set certainly belongs to the victim. After all, this is his house. But the other two could tell us something more about his death.”

Fini noticed that the Forensic Inspector had grimaced when he’d mentioned the victim’s fingerprints, but consigned this detail to the compartment in his mind labelled “Bullshit”.

“So, you will let me have a detailed account after receiving the results from the fingerprints.”

“Of course,” Carrobbio answered, although the Public Prosecutor’s question did not require an answer.

“Good” Fini added. “I’d say we can proceed with the removal of the body.”

Carobbio signalled his men who gathered around the body to lift it.

Fini moved over a few metres. He wanted to leave room for the specialists, but he needed breathing space to gather his thoughts. What was the motive that required the killer to dress up the victim with a gold necktie? And to arrange the victim’s arms in that strange position?

The world is changing , he thought. The crazies get even crazier.

The chattering of the personnel authorised to remove the body took his mind away from his thoughts.

“… a strange sound.”

“Yes, I heard it too. Something must have fallen.”

“I haven’t heard anything.”

Fini approached the four men. Chief Inspector Walker did the same.

“What happened?” Fini asked.

The Forensic men exchanged a series of conspiratorial glances. Then, the senior among them answered the question.

“Nothing happened, Mr Fini. It’s only that… while removing the body we heard a strange sound.”

Fini looked at him. “What kind of sound?” he asked.

The man thought about it for a moment.

“A metallic sound.”

“Metallic?”

“Yes, something like that. But I’m not sure. Someone heard it, someone else didn’t. So…”

He left the rest of the sentence to his questioner’s imagination, who addressed them testily.

“Well, let’s find it, then. Let’s make this elusive object – the cause of that metallic sound-appear.”

The senior officer nodded, and so did the others.

Once the body had been placed in its transport bag, they all made space for the personnel who, without a word, placed it on a stretcher and quietly took it away. And then it was all about looking and rummaging. Looking for something they weren’t even sure was there.

After less than ten minutes an answer came.

“Mr Fini?” Gandolfi, the most senior specialist, called.

“Yes?” Fini replied.

Gandolfi approached him and handed him a small plastic bag with something inside.

“This is the elusive object that we heard falling from the victim’s body” he said, with a hint of irony.

Fini signalled Walker to come and take a look at the content of the small plastic bag. Walker squinted his eyes trying to figure out what the object was and caught sight of a small white button with greenish and purplish pearl overtones.

“A metallic sound, right?” David said mockingly.

“Clearly we were wrong,” jumped in Blaine, another Forensic specialist.

“Yes,” Walker quickly agreed, handing Fini the small bag.

Gandolfi didn’t even consider answering back, as he knew that moment wasn’t going to be one of the highlights of his career.

Fini, after examining the button, gave it to the Forensic agent, asking him to check if it came from the dead man’s shirt.

“I’ll make it a priority,” the agent replied.

Before leaving, Fini looked around for Inspector Carobbio. When he found him among the others, he moved closer and made his final request.

“Inspector, please, I’m counting on you to let me know as soon as possible both the results of what you find in this room and of the autopsy. Anything that can offer an explanation to this bizarre case.”

CHAPTER 6

“Come in.”

The door opened without a sound and detective Bassani peeped out into Walker’s office.

The two men stood staring at each other. So? the Chief’s eyes seem to shout.

Bassani looked away, as if for some strange reason he felt intimidated by the Chief Inspector.

“We’ve tracked down the widow Pilenga, Martina’s mother, wife of…”

“Good. Well done.” Walker interrupted him abruptly. “Where is she now?”

Bassani hadn’t even had time to respond when Walker spoke again.

“That woman should have already been here.”

The detective’s eyes widened.

“You’re right, Chief, but…” he stopped, worried by, but also quietly relishing the brooding expression on Walker’s face. “Martina Pilenga is not available at the moment.”

The detective’s eyes widened.

“You’re right, Chief, but…” he stopped, worried by, but also quietly relishing the brooding expression on Walker’s face. “Martina Pilenga is not available at the moment.”

“What do you mean ‘is not available at the moment’ ?”

“Just what I said, Chief. What our witness said, Belmond…”

“Belmondo” Walker remarked with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Yes, Belmondo. Like Belmondo was saying, Martina Pilenga moved in with her mother – probably following the stormy period with her husband –, but it’s been a couple of days since she’s been there. The widow Pilenga, Martina’s mother, said her daughter had told her that she was going to be away for the weekend …”

“But?” asked Walker, as if he was inevitably expecting a “but”.

“But she is pretty old,” Bassani hurried to answer. “And doesn’t remember where she’s gone. Actually, she doesn’t even remember if her daughter told her.”

A cloak of silence fell on them again. Then it was the Chief who spoke again.

“So, let’s see if I’ve understood it well…” he grumbled. “A man is found lifeless in his flat after discovering his wife was unfaithful. The colleague who finds him states that that man was a good person, but had just found out that his wife had cheated on him. We, obviously, try to trace the wife of this poor unlucky man and, strangely enough, she’s away for the weekend and no one, not even her mother, knows where she’s gone. It could be a coincidence, of course! But I’d say something strange is going on here. Very strange.”

The Chief took a pause. He couldn’t wait for Caslini - the detective he’d worked with since his arrival in Milan – to get back quickly enough from his holiday. It’s not that he didn’t like Bassani, he simply lacked initiative. Moreover, Walker was convinced that he was a slacker.

“That’s why I want that woman to be found asp,” Walker continued, running his fingers through his hair. Then the tone of his voice went up. “Call her girlfriends, relatives, colleagues, cats, dogs, even turtles – if she has any… I want somebody to tell me asap where the fuck this woman is. And I want her here, in my office. It’s the only lead we have.”

“I’ll do my best, Chief,” the detective said. “Anything else?”

Walker shook his head.

The detective turned, heading towards the door. When he was about to open the door, the Chief Inspector stopped him.

“Bassani?”

He turned around.

“Yes, Chief,” he answered.

“If that woman, for whatever reason, cannot manage to come to my office this very day” now his voice was calmer, “I at least want to speak with her on the phone.”

Bassani gave his boss a perplexed look, and tried to answer in a way that wouldn’t disappoint him.

“It will be done, Chief.”

Before disappearing through the door, Bassani raised his hand to wave goodbye.

Walker stood motionless for a long time, before deciding to treat himself to a cigarette. Although by law it was strictly forbidden, as long as that office was his, he would smoke any time he felt like it.

Smoking relaxed him, as well as helping him think.

Automatically he let the ash fall on a little china plate which had seen better days, when he felt a sharp pain running through his arm. He clenched his teeth and grimaced with pain, tossing and turning on his chair. The wound on his shoulder was still burning. Maybe he had underestimated it.

CHAPTER 7

“What do you mean she’s at the spa?”

“A SPA is, like…” replied Bassani, “… a sort of wellness centre, Chief.”

“I know perfectly well what a SPA is,” Walker replied dryly. Then the tone of his voice mellowed. “Did you think I thought it was the Software Publishing Association?”

Bassani smiled, shaking his head.

Walker became serious again.

“What I meant was… what the hell is she doing in a SPA?”

“She must have gone there to relax, Chief. Maybe to have a break from her husband, since it looks like they were on bad terms.”

Walker nodded, remembering what Belmondo had told him about the marital instability between the victim and his wife.

“So,” the Chief Inspector considered, “Ghezzi’s wife is relaxing at a wellness centre. Sauna, Turkish baths, massage and other shit like that. All of this while her husband is resting peacefully at the morgue, after having been killed. Quite bizarre this thing.”

“Well, although a mortuary isn’t a wellness centre, at least it is a calm place. Where you certainly don’t get stressed” Bassani tried to joke about it.

“That was a good joke, detective. Unlike mine”, smiled Walker. “But now, let’s be serious again. The fact that this woman is unreachable could make her a suspect. Actually, the only suspect, at this moment.”

Bassani nodded without saying a word, allowing the Chief Inspector to continue.

“Who told you that Ghezzi’s wife is at a wellness centre?”

“After speaking with some people who knew her, one of her girlfriends told us.”

Bassani didn’t mention the identity or details of that person and Walker didn’t care to know.” And where is this wellness centre?”

“In a town in the region of Versilia, Chief.”

“So I can assume that it would be impossible to have her in my office today.”

“Exactly…”

“But I did say that in that case I would have wanted …”

The phone ringing cut the Chief’s sentence clean off . Before he could answer it, Bassani hurried to say he had called the place where Mrs Pilenga was staying.

“After introducing myself, I told them I needed to speak urgently with Mrs Pilenga. I gave them your extension. This should be her” Bassani concluded, nodding towards the receiver that kept on ringing. For once, he felt like he had done something right.

“State Police, Chief Inspector Walker speaking.”

On the other end of the line was the tense voice of the receptionist who, after having introduced himself, passed the phone to Mrs Pilenga.

“Hello?” the woman said, her anxiety tightening her throat.

The Chief Inspector introduced himself and, choosing his words carefully, informed her of the fate that had befallen her husband.

No reply.

After a time that seemed, according to Walker, sufficient to take in the news, he prompted Mrs Pilenga.

“Mrs Pilenga, are you still there?”

“This isn’t a joke, is it?” she asked faintly.

“It’s not a joke, Mrs Pilenga. My condolences.”

“Dead in our flat?”

“Yes, Mrs Pilenga,” confirmed Walker, not reminding her that she hadn’t lived under the same roof as her husband for some months.

“It’s impossi…”

Sobbing stopped her from finishing her sentence.