Page 27 of Murder on an Italian Island (Armstrong and Oscar Cozy Mysteries #12)

WEDNESDAY MORNING

The wind was blowing a lot harder when I got up next morning and took Oscar for his walk.

On the coast, it was hard enough to bend the branches of the trees, and there were big rollers coming in, throwing up clouds of white spray as they pounded against the rocks.

I had a sinking feeling that today’s windsurfing lesson might turn into an outing for the local lifeboat – with me the object of their attentions.

When I got to the windsurfing school, I saw Ingrid and Stefano standing on the terrace drinking coffee, and she gave me the news I had secretly been hoping to hear.

‘ Ciao , Dan, we’ve just been talking and we think it’s best if we cancel today’s lessons. With an offshore wind and such big waves, it’s a recipe for disaster. We’ll make the hours up over the next few days. We’re very sorry, but we think it’s the sensible thing to do.’

I decided to tell them the truth. ‘I must confess that I feel relieved. I don’t think I’m qualified for waves this size and I certainly wouldn’t want to get washed away. Are you cancelling Anna’s class as well?’

Stefano nodded. ‘Tell her she can come and try if she likes, but I have a feeling she’ll find it too much like hard work.’

Ingrid agreed. ‘And potentially dangerous. How about a coffee?’

I glanced at my watch. It was still barely seven-thirty and Anna was probably only just thinking about getting up, so I thanked her and asked for an espresso. While she went in to get it, I had a word with Stefano about his beloved Etruscans.

‘I took Oscar for a walk in the field you told me about yesterday afternoon and managed to see quite a few overgrown slag heaps left over from ancient mines. I’m sure you’re right and there must have been a settlement around here somewhere.

I couldn’t find a smelting furnace either, but I did look for it.

’ I went on to tell him about the spring and my theory that it might have marked the site of a settlement and he looked interested, but I added a proviso.

‘But you’ll probably need to come back in the winter because for now, everything is submerged under the vines.

Do you happen to know who owns the field? ’

He produced an ironic smile. ‘I’m not sure who it belongs to now, but it used to belong to Aldo Graziani when he was alive.’

‘Was he was planning on expanding the campsite up there?’

‘Anything’s possible, I don’t know. I believe he bought it at the same time as he bought the fields where the campsite is now.’

‘The field looks abandoned and the track’s overgrown. All I could see was a big shed up there. Was that his as well?’

‘I imagine so. It appeared just after I started here four summers ago and in fact, the remains of the fabbrichile are just beyond it but, like you say, they’re virtually inaccessible underneath all the plants at this time of year.

I’m not sure if he ever used the shed. I have a feeling it might have been a planning scam – you know, pretending there’s been a building there for years and then asking for permission to build another to replace that one and building a villa instead.

That’s the sort of sneaky character he was.

I don’t think there’s anything in the shed.

I’ve never seen him or anybody else going in there, so I bet it was some sort of fiddle. ’

Ingrid reappeared carrying a little cup of coffee for me and half a ham sandwich for Oscar. ‘Somebody left this here last night and I kept it because I thought Oscar might like it. Can I give it to him?’

He nodded before I did.

As I sipped my coffee, I thought I would do a little bit of digging. ‘You come back every summer, don’t you, Stefano? What about you, Ingrid? Do you work here all year round?’

She nodded. ‘I live and work here all year round, but I’m not as busy out of season as I am in the summer.’

‘Do you live at the campsite?’

‘No, I live in Santa Sabina with Maria, my partner. I’ve been coming here on holiday with my parents every summer for as long as I can remember, and Maria and I first met as teenagers.

We stayed friends even though we drifted apart, but then I came back and we set up home together a couple of years ago. ’

‘And what about Maria? Was she a holidaymaker like you and your family, or is she originally from here?’

‘She’s a local. Her parents own the shop in the main piazza and she works there.’

This was sounding promising. Presumably, the bar, the church and the only shop were the hubs of the little village and, hopefully, the fount of all knowledge about what went on around here.

I decided to put my cards on the table. ‘I used to be in the police in the UK and I now have my own investigation agency in Florence.’ I saw them both look up at me with increased interest. ‘I’m helping the police investigate the two recent murders and I wonder if you could help me. ’

Stefano answered first. ‘So they were definitely both murdered? I heard that Aldo’s brother got drunk and fell off the cliff.’

‘That’s still possible, but with this second death – and this one was definitely murder, there’s no doubt about it – it seems like too much of a coincidence.

I believe they were both murdered and I’m also pretty sure there has to be a local connection.

I was talking to some of the people in the village the other day and they mentioned an attempted abduction of a girl twenty years ago, apparently by Ignazio Graziani. Does that ring any bells with you?’

They both shook their heads and Ingrid replied. ‘I’m sorry but twenty years ago, I would only have been seven. I can ask Maria’s parents if you like. They’ve lived here all their lives and if anybody knows, they will.’

‘Thank you, that would be very helpful.’

Stefano was looking at me closely. ‘When Teresa was down here yesterday, she told me she thought you were a detective. If you’re a private investigator, does this mean that somebody has employed you to look into these deaths?’

I launched into a cover story that wasn’t too far from the truth. ‘No, this was supposed to be my week off, but seeing as the police have instructed all the guests at the Augustus to stay put, I thought I’d do a bit of sniffing around of my own in the hope of speeding up the investigation.’

At that moment, I spotted Teresa by the entrance to the beach.

She was chatting animatedly to a couple of holidaymakers, and from time to time, I heard peals of laughter from them.

She was wearing short shorts and a bright primrose-yellow top and she looked as though she hadn’t got a care in the world.

Certainly, if she and Aldo had been having an affair, she appeared to have got over his loss remarkably easily – suspiciously easily.

I watched as the three of them disappeared back up the track to the campsite before resuming my questions to Stefano and Ingrid.

‘Could you tell me in confidence anything you know about Teresa that might be of interest to me? Where’s she from? Was she telling me the truth when she said she and Aldo didn’t have a romantic liaison? Anything that might help would be great.’

Ingrid was the first to reply. ‘I honestly can’t make her out.

She’s very organised and she can be extremely smiley and helpful when she wants, but there’s something about her that unsettles me.

Whether she had an affair with Aldo or not – and I tend to think that she did – I never sensed any kind of deep emotional attachment between the two of them.

She started working here three years ago and she’s definitely made the place more efficient.

I’m sure the campers like her but, like I say, deep down, she’s quite a tough character.

’ She glanced across at Stefano. ‘You get on reasonably well with her, don’t you, Stefano? ’

I saw him cast a wary look around before answering.

‘I suppose so but, like you say, Ingrid, she’s a difficult person to connect with.

To be honest, the only thing Teresa and I have in common is ancient history.

Since coming to the island, she’s become very interested in the Etruscans, so we sometimes sit down and talk about them.

She doesn’t seem to have many friends – well, she doesn’t seem to have any friends around here really.

She keeps herself to herself and I think she has her own agenda, and she doesn’t share it with anyone. ’

I sipped my coffee and mulled over in my head what I’d just heard.

What might Teresa’s secret agenda be, and did her interest in the Etruscans point towards her possibly being involved with the illicit antiquities trade?

I hoped the inspector had been able to dig up something interesting in her background.

Might she have come here with a sinister purpose?

The fact was, however, that she had arrived here three years ago, so why wait until now if she had been planning to murder her boss?

Or had she been waiting until the brother was released from prison so that she could murder both of them?

Frustratingly, yet again, the question was why.

* * *

I had the opportunity to mention Teresa to the inspector at nine o’clock that morning when I joined him and Sergeant Gallo in a downstairs room at the hotel for the interviews.

I was pleased to see that Virgilio had decided to go off and spend some time with Lina.

It’s tough enough being the wife of a police officer without work encroaching on holidays.

It looked as though he had finally remembered that he was on holiday – although it occurred to me that I was a fine one to talk.

In answer to my question about Aldo’s PA, Fontana checked the file on the desk in front of him and his reply was interesting, if inconclusive.