Page 8 of Murder at the Ponte Vecchio (Armstrong and Oscar Cozy Mystery #11)

We carried on asking questions, but it soon became clear that there wasn’t much more that Signora Bianchi could tell us.

The old man had been secretive, uncommunicative and, by the sound of it, he had had next to no friends – and I was beginning to realise why.

From what we’d been hearing, he hadn’t been an endearing character.

Finally, we asked to be shown up to his study on the first floor where Signora Bianchi produced a serious-looking key from the pocket of her apron, unlocked the door, and left us to it.

I had to lean on the door to open it and, from its considerable weight, it was clear that it was armoured, faced with timber.

We walked in and I pressed it closed behind us, hearing a solid clunk from the lock as I did so.

I couldn’t help noticing two hefty bolts on the inside so Berg could barricade himself inside if necessary.

No doubt this room had been designed, not only as a study, but as a safe room.

The study was quite large, and there was another door at the far end – this time, a normal wooden one.

Behind this, I found a serious steel safe the size of a fridge freezer.

I tried turning the wheel on the front to open it but, as we’d been warned, this resisted all attempts.

Above it, in the upper portion of the door, was a dial within a dial.

I spun it a few times, hearing it click as it turned, but, without the combination, we had no chance of opening it.

I went back into the study and headed for the huge mahogany desk with a swivel chair behind it.

On the wall behind it was an oil painting that even I could see had been heavily influenced by Dutch landscape painters like Bruegel.

It was a winter scene with people skating on an ice-covered canal and no doubt had reminded Berg of his youth in the Netherlands.

It was a fine painting and I wondered idly if it might be valuable.

Marco was sitting at the desk, searching through the drawers, so I flicked through the papers on the desktop.

These were of little interest apart from a slim, beige file.

I took this to the window – which was criss-crossed with steel bars – and checked the contents in the sunlight.

It quickly emerged that these were copies of the letters David Berg had sent to his children, inviting them to come to Florence, along with their replies.

These were all in Dutch but I found them easy enough to decipher with the help of memories of German lessons at school many years earlier and an Italian-Dutch dictionary on a nearby shelf.

The only item of particular interest was a simple piece of paper that looked as if it had been torn out of an exercise book.

On it, there were letters in a list down the page, each one of them with a tick alongside it. These were C, L, E and EV.

It didn’t take much deduction to work out that these stood for the names of the three siblings: Casper, Luuc and Emma, but it took me a moment or two to recognise the identity of the fourth.

Presumably, EV had to be Emiliano Vicentino, the lawyer.

Assuming that he, too, had been invited to the house for the meeting on Saturday afternoon, it appeared that the old man had intended to write – or more probably rewrite – his will there and then.

This of course begged the question of whether the lawyer had answered the call to come here on Saturday afternoon as well.

Nobody had mentioned him. I glanced across at Marco as he slid the last of the desk drawers shut and I held out the sheet of paper and the file towards him.

‘Seems like the old boy preferred old-fashioned mail rather than the electronic variety.’ I looked around the room.

‘Which reminds me: no computer. I imagine he must have had one, but it isn’t here.

Maybe at the shop or even in the safe. Talking of the safe, how do you plan on opening it? Hopefully not dynamite.’

He smiled as he took the sheet with the initials on it from my hand.

‘I’ll let the tech people worry about that.

If the worst comes to the worst, they’ll have to contact the makers.

’ He pulled out his phone and glanced across at the formidable safe.

‘I’ve a feeling it may take some time to get into that beast. I’d better get onto them right away.

We also need to check with Berg’s bank. You never know, there might be a piece of paper with the combination on it sitting in a safe deposit box.

’ He shot me a quick grin. ‘The commissario always tells me I’m a hopeless optimist.’

I waited until he’d finished the call before making a suggestion.

‘It might be an idea to ask the housekeeper if the lawyer showed up here yesterday. The family downstairs didn’t mention him.

And if he didn’t come, was that because Mr Berg had told him to come at a later date, or might it have been because the lawyer knew that his client had been murdered?

Maybe he even committed the crime himself, although until we can get into the safe, it’s hard to come up with a motive. ’

Marco leant against the side of the desk and looked across at me.

‘What did you think of the family? It’s quite clear there was no love lost between the old man and his kids, and who could blame them?

Can you imagine going off and abandoning your children – one of them a seven-year-old – and not bothering to contact them for decades?

He must have been a very odd character.’

‘You can say that again. By the sound of it, his life was all about precious stones and precious metals. I have a feeling his death might have been all about that as well.’

Marco nodded. ‘Robbery does seem the most likely motive, but from what the housekeeper said, it sounds as though he kept the more valuable items here in his safe.’ I saw his eyes flick across to the bars on the window.

‘Although getting access to them would have been a real challenge for any thief. What about the family? Did you think any of them looked suspicious?’

I shook my head. ‘Not really. They all looked mystified. I wasn’t too struck by Emma Berg’s partner, Guido, but maybe that’s just me.

With a name like that, I wonder if he has Italian roots although, if he spoke the language, I would have expected him to have been able to act as interpreter for them.

Otherwise, the only one that stood out was Luuc.

I didn’t immediately get any suspicious vibes from his brother and sister, but Luuc clearly had a serious grudge against his father. ’

‘My feeling exactly, but serious enough to contemplate patricide? Luuc definitely had no love for his father and no discernible grief at his demise. I know what you mean about Guido. I didn’t like the look of him either, but that doesn’t make him a murderer.

But whether the kids liked the father or not, from what we’ve heard, the idea of this family meeting was so that Berg could prepare or change his will – presumably in favour of his children – so I’m at a loss to see any possible motive they might have had for killing him before he did that. ’ He looked up at me. ‘Right?’

I nodded. ‘Right. I don’t see it either.

From what the housekeeper said, Berg had precious few friends, although it would be worth checking up on his former partner who died last year.

Maybe there was a child – unknown to the housekeeper – who might have got wind of the old man’s plan to change his will, which, presumably, would have benefitted her or her relatives. ’

He stood up. ‘Definitely, I’ll go and have another word with the housekeeper now to check if the lawyer turned up yesterday afternoon.

As far as he’s concerned, I need to sit down and have a long talk to him.

It sounds as though he knew the old man better than anybody, so maybe he can shed some light on what happened. ’

I glanced at my watch. It was almost eleven. ‘Well, good luck with it. I’d better get home to Anna, but if you need any more help, you know where I am.’

‘Thanks, Dan, and you won’t forget what I said about the boss, will you? Something’s bugging him, and I’d dearly like to know what it is.’

‘He and Lina came around for dinner last night and Anna noticed it too. I tried to get him to tell me what was on his mind, but he wouldn’t say a word. I’ll definitely have another try and I’ll let you know if I discover anything.’

I had been thinking a lot about Virgilio’s obvious unhappiness, but without coming up with a satisfactory explanation. Was he experiencing personal or family problems or was it work-related? If so, maybe this case might offer a way of getting closer to him and, hopefully, helping him.