Page 9 of Murder at the Ponte Vecchio (Armstrong and Oscar Cozy Mystery #11)

SUNDAY LATE MORNING

I left Marco and as I drove home, I thought back to the scene in the villa.

Five people, six including the housekeeper, but none with any discernible motive to commit murder.

Berg had had few friends and his former partner was also dead so, unless some member of her side of the family turned up, our original supposition that David Berg’s death had been aggravated robbery looked the most likely scenario.

If we were lucky, the contents of the safe would provide the police with some useful leads.

Thought of the police made me think of Virgilio again.

We were all agreed that something was preying on his mind, but the question was how to get him to talk about it.

As I crossed the bridge over the Arno and turned towards Montevolpone, I let my mind roam. What could be troubling him?

Somehow, I felt convinced that it had something to do with police work – although it was strange that Marco hadn’t been able to shine any light on it.

Considering that they both worked closely together, this was bizarre.

If not work, then what? From everything Virgilio had said to me over the years that I’d known him, I felt sure that this wasn’t a sign that there was discord between him and his wife.

They had always struck me as a very happy couple and, as far as I knew, their two children were both doing well in their chosen careers.

Of course it could be a health matter, but surely he would have spoken to Lina about it if he’d discovered he had a medical problem.

It was unlikely to be financial trouble because he’d recently received promotion to commissario and that would have come with a corresponding increase in pay.

I’d never known him to gamble and I thought it highly unlikely that he would have done anything illegal, so what could it be?

I called Anna back at my place to see what she thought I should do. Her answer was very simple.

‘Go and talk to him. It’s only eleven now, so he won’t be having lunch yet. Why not drop round to his house and take him out for an aperitivo or a walk with Oscar? Go on, do it.’

She was right. We did need to talk, so I did a U-turn and headed back towards Florence.

Virgilio’s house is in Scandicci, which is roughly halfway between my house and the city centre, so it only took me ten minutes driving to get there.

I was pleased to see his car parked outside the house, which boded well for my chances of finding him in.

I parked behind it and Oscar and I went up to the front door.

I pressed the bell and a few seconds later, it was opened by Lina.

When she saw me, an expression of relief appeared on her face.

‘ Ciao , Dan, am I pleased to see you! He’s spent half the night at his computer and he’s back in his study now with the door closed.

I wish he would tell me what’s going on, but he just shakes his head and says he’s fine.

’ She caught my eye and I could see the hurt and the worry in hers.

‘But it’s patently clear he’s anything but fine.

Would you like to have a try? He might talk to you. ’

I gave her a reassuring hug. ‘That’s why I’ve come. I tried last night, but he wouldn’t tell me a thing, so I thought I’d come here now to try again.’

She pointed up the stairs. ‘You know where his study is, don’t you?’

I left her there and set off up the stairs with Oscar.

When I got to the door of his office, I stopped and tapped on it.

‘Virgilio, it’s me, Dan. Can I come in?’ Just to add impetus to the request, Oscar stretched out a paw and scratched the bottom of the door.

There was silence for a few moments before I heard footsteps approaching and then the key turned in the lock.

I was still digesting the fact that he had locked himself in when the door opened and I was confronted by my friend.

He looked awful. By the look of his crumpled T-shirt, he had probably slept in it, and his eyes were bloodshot.

He blinked a few times and bent down to stroke Oscar’s head.

‘ Ciao , Oscar. Ciao , Dan.’ He sounded as weary as he looked.

I decided to take the bull by the horns. ‘We need to talk. Can I come in?’

He stepped back and I entered the room, stopping to close the door behind me. I went over to the window, deliberately distancing myself from whatever he’d been doing on the computer, and turned towards him.

‘We’re all worried about you, Virgilio. I think it’s time you talked to somebody, don’t you?

’ Before he could retort, I carried on. ‘You know me well enough by now. You can tell me anything and I promise I won’t judge, I won’t be shocked and, unless you agree, I won’t tell a soul, and that includes Lina and Anna.

Nobody, all right? Whatever it is that’s bugging you, you need to talk about it. Please.’

I saw him slump down in his chair, but he gave no immediate reply. Oscar, working out that his good friend was struggling, wandered over and leant against his leg in a show of canine support. I had to wait almost a minute before Virgilio finally raised his eyes and spoke.

‘Thanks, Dan. It was good of you to come. You’re right, I do need to speak to somebody and, the more I think about it, you’re just about the only person who can understand the complexity of the problem and who might be able to help.

Most important of all, you’re above suspicion.

’ His voice lapsed as he started to collect his thoughts but I remained silent, letting him take his time, wondering what his ‘above suspicion’ comment might presage.

Finally, keeping his voice low, although we were alone in the room with the door closed, he started.

‘There’s something bad going on at work, something very bad.’ I tried to keep my face as expressionless as possible while he went on. ‘I’ve been suspicious for several months now, but it’s becoming more and more evident that there’s somebody on the force who’s working for the other side.’

‘When you say, “working for the other side”, who is the other side and what’s happening?’

‘That’s what I’m trying to find out. The most obvious thing I’ve found so far is that files are disappearing.’

This didn’t sound good at all. ‘But isn’t everything on computer these days?’

‘That’s the problem. Not only are hard copies of files going missing, but records are being wiped from the system.’

This was sounding ominous now. ‘What sort of records?’

He even managed an attempt at a wry smile.

‘That’s also the problem. The moment they disappear, they become almost impossible to trace.

The first one I came across quite by accident two months ago.

An asylum seeker was found stabbed to death at the main station, but it was never followed up.

I only happened across it when I was checking a completely different case – the death of another asylum seeker – and saw it referenced.

I’ve spoken to the officer dealing with the first case and he confirms he logged it and handed in his report, but somehow, that’s gone missing.

Then last month, almost exactly the same thing happened again – another stabbing and another file gone missing. ’

‘But surely any officer who feels like it can’t just wipe a file without authorisation.’

He looked up at me, a haunted expression on his face. ‘That’s what’s worrying me, Dan; that sort of thing needs authorisation… or it’s being done by somebody high up. The more I look into it, the more convinced I’ve become that it’s being done by a senior officer.’

I began to see why he was looking so worried. ‘How senior?’

‘Inspector or above.’

‘What about somebody in IT?’

‘They need to use a special code every time they log in, and that keeps an exact record of what they’ve done and every file they’ve accessed. I’m no computer genius but, as far as I can see, the only person who could have done it has to be one of our senior officers.’

I sat there and thought hard. Virgilio now occupied an important position in the Florence force and there were probably no more than a handful of more senior officers between him and the questore , the overall head of the force.

There were probably slightly more officers at inspector level but the total would only amount to a dozen at most. This was serious.

I looked across to see him staring glumly at his computer screen.

‘Do you have anybody particular in mind?’

He swivelled the laptop around so I could see the screen. There were photos of the five most senior officers there and he talked me through them.

‘Parmigiano, Verdi, Grande, Romano and the questore himself, Massimo Livornese. All senior officers. The questore has been in post for ten years now, Parmigiano and Romano have each been here for over thirty years. The other two have transferred in from other forces over the last few years. I know all five and up till now, I’ve had absolute trust in them.

Now I find myself doubting all of them and it’s driving me crazy.

What do I do? I suppose I should go straight to the top and lay my suspicions before the questore , but what if he’s the one?

I could lose my job – or even my life – if he takes action to silence me.

’ He looked at me over the top of the screen. ‘You see my problem?’

I certainly did. ‘What about officers at inspector rank?’

‘Five, three of whom are in areas like traffic or victim support. There are only two inspectors regularly involved with murder cases.’

And one of them was Marco. Suddenly, it became clear why Virgilio had been refusing to talk to his second-in-command about his suspicions. I decided to say it before Virgilio had to.

‘There’s Marco, but I would stake my life savings on him being straight. What about the other inspector? Do I know him or her?’

‘Roberto Faldo, he’s in murder as well but he tends to specialise in robbery. He joined us last year from Parma.’

‘Who’s your money on? The new boy, Faldo, or somebody more senior?’

He shrugged helplessly. ‘I’ve been trying to narrow it down and I’ve come up with three probables – although any of the others could still be in the running.

I know the questore and I feel as sure as I can be that I trust him.

Yes, he can be an awkward character, but I can’t see him betraying the force, his force.

I know Parmigiano and Romano even better – we’ve pretty much grown up together and I would trust either of them with my life – so that leaves us with Verdi and Grande.

At inspector level, there are the two: Faldo and, of course, Marco, although, like you, I can’t imagine Marco being involved in anything illegal. ’

I gave it a few seconds and then asked the inevitable question. ‘So what’s your next step?’

He rolled his eyes. ‘That’s what I’ve been trying to decide. The more I think about it, I reckon I have to go straight to the questore , don’t you?’ He caught my eye. ‘What do you think I should do, Dan? Did you ever come up against anything like this?’

The answer to this was yes, sort of. I had come across a handful of bent coppers in my time and I knew that no force was without them.

I tried desperately to think what support I could offer my friend.

‘Yes, I’ve encountered rotten apples a few times but never at a very senior level.

I remember a sergeant and four constables when I was in South-East London.

They were running a very lucrative protection racket, milking shopkeepers for money every month.

We’d heard rumours for ages, but every time we thought we were getting close to catching the perpetrators, the trail would go cold.

In the end, the only conclusion we could draw was that it had to be an inside job.

The boss assembled a small group of officers and swore us to secrecy.

Between us, we kept a close eye on the affected premises until a uniformed constable popped up one day to collect.

We followed him back to the station and managed to film him handing over the cash to the sergeant.

After that, we were able to roll up the whole gang.

Two of them got jail terms and all five were kicked off the force. ’

As I was speaking, an idea occurred to me.

‘In the first instance, if you like, I could take a look at the main suspects. Give me their details and I’ll sit down at the computer and go through them one by one, looking into their personal lives, finances, backgrounds and so on.

Normally, there’s a reason why an officer goes bad – gambling or other debts, marital troubles and the like – and I might just uncover something. ’

Virgilio gave me a grateful look. ‘That’s what I’ve been trying to do, but I know you’re a whole lot better at this computer stuff than I am.

Normally, I would just hand it over to our tech people, but I’ve no way of knowing if any of them are involved.

That would be brilliant, Dan, if you can spare the time. ’

I smiled at him in return. ‘That’s what friends are for.’

Although I was smiling, I was turning over in my head the possible ramifications if we were to discover something decidedly dodgy going on. Who could tell how far up the ladder the contagion might have spread?