Page 7 of Murder at the Ponte Vecchio (Armstrong and Oscar Cozy Mystery #11)
SUNDAY MID-MORNING
We left the family sitting there in silence and walked back to the entrance hall. There was a little hand bell on a side table and Marco picked it up and rang it. A few seconds later, the housekeeper appeared and headed for the front door.
‘Are you leaving, gentlemen?’
Marco shook his head. ‘Not yet, signora . First, I’d like to ask you some questions. Is there somewhere we can go?’
She turned back and led us along a short passage to the kitchen.
Although the room had been designed to look like a traditional Tuscan farmhouse kitchen with hefty oak beams spanning the ceiling, there was a battery of modern kitchen equipment along one wall.
We sat down around a fine old wooden table in the middle of the room and the housekeeper offered us coffee.
While she made this with the aid of a professional-looking coffee machine, Marco embarked on the questions.
‘I gather you’re the housekeeper and you’ve worked here for twenty years. Is that correct?’
‘That’s correct. My name is Bianchi, Ines. ’
‘Thank you, Signora Bianchi. Is there a Signor Bianchi?’
She nodded. ‘My husband works for a textile company in Prato. We live in Campi Bisenzio.’ I recognised the name of a fairly unprepossessing suburb of Florence only a few kilometres from Signa.
‘What hours do you work?’
‘I used to come in at eight and leave at four but nowadays, I normally come in at midday. Signor Berg always leaves… left home at seven-thirty so there was no need to make breakfast for him. As a result, I spend the afternoons here and leave again at eight, after preparing his dinner. This weekend, because we have guests – and, believe me, that is very, very unusual – I’m here all day. ’
‘So having guests in the house was unusual? How unusual?’
‘Extremely. There are six bedrooms here and, apart from Signor Berg’s room, none of them have been used for years. The last time there was a guest here was probably four, five years ago – and only for a single night.’
‘Can you remember who that was?’
‘I don’t think I ever heard his name, but he was a tall Dutchman – maybe about your age.
He didn’t speak Italian and he never said a word to me.
He arrived one afternoon and left again early next day.
He and Signor Berg spent hours locked in the study together, so it was clearly a business meeting. ’
‘We understand that Signor Berg originally moved from Holland thirty years ago with an Italian woman. Do you know her? Were they still a couple?’
‘Yes, she lived here with him so I knew her well, but I’m afraid she died back before Christmas.’
I couldn’t help reflecting on the synchronicity of both Berg’s original wife and his Italian partner dying at almost the same time. ‘Can you give me her name, please? ’
‘Greco, Claudia Greco.’
‘Did they marry? Did they have a family?’
‘No, they had no children and they lived together as man and wife, but without making it legitimate.’ Ines Bianchi’s tone expressed disapproval.
‘Still, she was a good woman and she must have had the patience of Job to have stuck with him for so long.’ She brought over two little cups of strong, black coffee and set them down on the table in front of us.
‘He wasn’t an easy man to get on with.’ She hesitated before taking a seat at the end of the table.
‘I know we shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but Signor Berg wasn’t a very nice man. ’
‘In what way?’
‘He was very selfish. All that counted for him was himself and his business.’
‘Was it a big business? After all, it was only a small boutique on the Ponte Vecchio.’
She scoffed. ‘It was a big business, all right. The shop was only the icing on the cake. His main activity was as a wholesaler of precious stones and precious metals. I can remember numerous occasions when he came home with a heavy bag and told me there were hundreds of thousands of euros’ worth of gold or precious stones inside it. ’
‘Was it a common occurrence for him to bring high-value merchandise back here?’
‘Maybe not every night, but he preferred to keep his valuables in the safe here, rather than at the Ponte Vecchio. As you came in, you maybe noticed the security system we have here. This place is like Fort Knox.’
‘Do you think there’s much in the safe now?’
‘I have no idea. You should go and take a look for yourselves, but I’m not sure how you’re going to get into it.
I don’t know the combination and, to the best of my knowledge, now that Signor Berg’s dead, neither does anybody else.
I can let you into his study, but from then on, you’re on your own.
’ She even managed a hint of a smile. ‘I imagine you’ll need dynamite. ’
I saw Marco shoot a glance towards the kitchen door and he lowered his voice even though we were speaking Italian. ‘Tell me about the family group who have assembled here. Presumably, Signor Berg must have informed you that they were coming.’
The smile disappeared from her face. ‘Yes, he told me, last month in fact. From the way he spoke about them, I could tell he wasn’t looking forward to seeing them but, considering that he went off and left his wife and children all those years ago and hasn’t been back in touch with them since, I would imagine they felt very similarly about him.
The one with the short hair, Luuc, in particular has been looking like a bear with a sore head. ’
‘Can you remember anything Signor Berg said about them? We’re trying to work out exactly why he decided to restore contact with his children after so long.
Was he maybe becoming a bit more mellow in his old age?
’ Although Marco already knew the answer to this one, he was clearly trying to see if Berg might have had an alternative reason for calling his children to join him, not just because of his last will and testament.
Ines shook her head decisively. ‘Very much the opposite. The older he got, the more difficult he became.’ She paused for thought while we sipped our scalding-hot, but very good, coffees.
‘Knowing him, I imagine it was probably about money. It normally was with him. Maybe he wanted to talk to them about his will.’
Marco nodded. ‘It could well be. By the way, can you give me the name of his lawyer and maybe his accountant?’
‘His lawyer, yes: Emiliano Vicentino. His studio is in Florence, in Via Ricasoli. He came here two or three times a year, and the two of them would lock themselves in the office and talk for hours. As for an accountant, Signor Berg didn’t have one.
He did all that kind of thing himself. I imagine that was because he wouldn’t trust anybody else to handle his money. ’
‘What about the family? How are you getting on with them?’
She shrugged. ‘Considering that I don’t speak Dutch, they don’t speak Italian, and my English is seriously limited, you can probably imagine.
They seem pleasant enough and, understandably, they’ve been looking very puzzled.
They’d only just arrived yesterday afternoon when the news of their father’s death came through and they were shocked.
I was too, to be honest. He might have been old but he was tough.
It wouldn’t have surprised me if he’d lived to be a hundred. ’
‘Does it come as a surprise to you to know that he didn’t take his own life? We now have evidence that he was murdered.’
The housekeeper nodded a couple of times but didn’t look as surprised as we might have expected.
‘I couldn’t believe that he’d taken his own life.
He seemed far too tough for that. I suppose it was a robbery, was it?
I often wondered, considering that he used to carry such valuable items around with him, whether somebody would try to get their hands on them. ’
‘We’re not sure at the moment. It happened inside his shop and there was considerable upheaval in there, so it’s difficult to know what might have been taken. It happened on Friday evening. Were you aware that Signor Berg hadn’t come home that night?’
‘No. He’d told me the day before that he was going out somewhere that evening and I didn’t have to prepare dinner for him.
I came in a bit earlier than usual yesterday – around ten – as I had to prepare for the arrival of the family and there was no sign of him, so I just assumed he’d come home the night before and then gone off to work at seven-thirty as usual. ’
‘What did the family members do after hearing the news? ’
‘They haven’t really done very much since then, apart from sit in the lounge and talk.
I thought they might go out and visit Florence yesterday evening, but only Luuc has been out.
The others have just been hanging around here.
Presumably, their father’s death has had its effect on them, even if he must have been a virtual stranger to them after so many years. ’
Marco nodded a couple of times. ‘I couldn’t see any great signs of grief. What do you think, Signora Bianchi? Would you say that any one of them was particularly pleased or displeased at the news of the death?’
She shrugged. ‘The language barrier is what it is but, like you, I didn’t see any great sorrow on their faces – particularly not on the face of Luuc.
’ She produced a cloth from her apron pocket and absently wiped a microscopic speck of dust from the tabletop.
‘But, like I say, after thirty years apart, who can blame them?’