Page 31 of Murder on an Italian Island (Armstrong and Oscar Cozy Mysteries #12)
I shivered yet again. ‘And as far as I’m concerned, the finger of suspicion surely points at either Teresa Franceschini or Fabio Morso. Have Piero’s people found anything in their accommodation – come to think of it, where does Fabio Morso live?’
‘He’s staying at his father’s old place, about a kilometre down the road from the campsite.
There’s a team going through it as we speak.
’ He glanced across at me as we headed along the remarkably narrow ‘main’ road towards Porto Azzurro, lined with umbrella pines and occasional farmsteads.
Compared to the coast, the hinterland of the island was remarkably undeveloped. ‘You look terrible, fancy a drink?’
‘That’s what Anna said – the looking terrible thing and the drink thing. I’ve just had a beer, but I really need to eat something now. I feel empty.’ At my use of the word ‘eat,’ I heard movement at my ear and a wave of malodorous dog breath blew past me. ‘Did Oscar get his steak?’
‘Not yet. The kitchen staff were crazy busy, but we can remedy that right now.’ With that, he pulled off the road into the car park of a little restaurant bearing the auspicious name of The Grill – written in English.
All around us were fields and hills, and the restaurant itself looked more like a decrepit barn than a glitzy McDonald’s.
On the far side of the building, protected from the gusty wind, there was a line of tables sheltered beneath an even more decrepit-looking pergola whose timbers bowed alarmingly under the weight of a mass of vines.
It was almost two o’clock and most of the other diners were already on their desserts or coffees by now, but a waiter assured us that we were still in time to eat.
He showed us to a table at the far end of the terrace and provided us with a verbal menu.
It didn’t take long. As far as I could tell, it was a choice of meat, meat or meat – all of it grilled.
We opted to split a mixed grill accompanied by roast potatoes and a fresh artichoke salad.
The waiter disappeared for less than a minute before returning with a carafe of anonymous red wine, another of water, and a basket containing bread and grissini.
With the aid of a glass of the remarkably drinkable wine and a couple of breadsticks shared with Oscar, I was soon feeling more like my old self again after what had been a traumatic morning.
Virgilio chatted about all sorts, ranging from the beauty of the island to the quality of the wine, and I could tell that he was deliberately steering clear of the subject of the two murders and the assault on Anna.
It was good of him, but, now that I was feeling more normal again, I brought up the subject myself.
‘If we assume for the moment that Aldo’s death is somehow connected with the illegal antiquities trade, that still doesn’t help us work out whether we’re looking for one murderer or two. What do you think?’
At that moment, the waiter returned with a huge wooden platter loaded with meat, accompanied by a pile of little roast potatoes.
Alongside this was a dish of fresh raw artichoke hearts in an olive oil and lemon-juice dressing.
A heavy, black head landed on my thigh as Oscar’s nose strained upwards towards what was a most appealing aroma.
I glanced across at Virgilio and grinned.
‘I’m very glad I resisted the temptation to order a separate steak for Oscar. There’s enough meat here to feed half a dozen people.’
And there was. There were no fewer than four grilled kebabs packed with pieces of steak interspersed with chunks of red pepper, courgette and aubergine, a grilled chicken breast that looked as if it had come from a massive beast the size of an ostrich, a dozen ribs and a curled-up, spiral Tuscan sausage the size of a side plate.
The mountain of roast potatoes alone would have fed a large family, and the artichoke salad looked most inviting.
We helped ourselves to the food and to the delight of my four-legged friend, I dismembered one of the kebabs and handed him down a series of succulent pieces of steak, followed by a chunk of the chicken breast that was the size of a pack of cards.
There was disbelief in his eyes as the tasty titbits kept on coming but, although I’m normally against feeding him from the table, he deserved every single bit of the feast. It’s not every day your dog saves your partner’s life. As Anna said, he’s a very special dog.
We didn’t do a lot of talking for about a quarter of an hour, and it was only when our appetites – not Oscar’s, of course – began to wane that the conversation picked up again and Virgilio provided the answer to my original question.
‘I’ve been thinking about this case a lot and I’m coming around to the conclusion that the object of the killer’s intentions has to have been Aldo rather than Ignazio.
I reckon the first death was a mistake, although Ignazio’s background made us immediately assume that he’d been deliberately murdered.
I think we’re looking at a single killer and my money’s on the woman, Teresa Franceschini, either out of greed or frustrated affection. Is that what you think?’
I swallowed a final piece of kebab and washed it down with a mouthful of wine before replying.
‘You could well be right. There’s definitely something hard and calculating about her, although I still can’t pin down a viable motive for murder, unless it’s to get her hands on the Etruscan artefacts.
I must confess that I’m not totally giving up on the idea of two different killers, but it’s definitely looking more likely the work of one person.
I wonder how Piero Fontana got on with his interviews. ’
At that moment, Virgilio’s phone started ringing and I was immediately on full alert when I heard him greet the caller. ‘ Ciao , Piero, anything new?’
The inspector spoke to Virgilio for almost five minutes and all I could hear were occasional grunts or one-word comments from Virgilio before the call ended and he dropped his phone back onto the table.
‘Several interesting developments. The Japanese police have been amazingly efficient and have already replied to the query about Tatsuo Tanaka. The bad news from our point of view is that although the mother of Laura Bracco, Ignazio Graziani’s second victim, was born in Nagoya, she and her family moved back to Tokyo when she was only three months old.
The father was a serving army officer and he was subsequently transferred to the Japanese embassy in Rome as Defence Attaché when the girl was only five and she grew up in Italy.
Tanaka has lived all his life in Nagoya and he gets a clean bill of health – his father’s a judge, no less – so it looks like that’s a dead end. ’
‘You said several interesting developments. What else did he say? Any joy with the couple from Lucca and their antique shop?’
‘Much more promising. When Piero’s people searched their room at the hotel, they found nothing, but when they opened the boot of the car, they found a box containing two bronze statuettes wrapped in tissue paper.
Signor Giardino was unable to provide an invoice for these items and was very evasive about how he’d come by them.
Photos of them were sent to the National Archaeological Museum in Naples and they have been positively identified as of Etruscan origin and the couple have been arrested.
They’re at the station right now being interviewed, and the TPC have been notified and are sending two officers. No prizes for guessing who they’ll be.’
‘That’s very interesting. Could it be that Giardino and his wife are the elusive Tuscan handlers?
If so, it should be possible to get them to identify the source not only of these two bronze statuettes but also of the larger, more valuable objects that have emerged from the island.
I’m not a betting man, but I would happily stake a hundred euros on Aldo Graziani’s name popping up. ’
Virgilio took a final piece of meat from his plate, handed the remaining piece of sausage to Oscar and set his fork back down.
‘That’s enough for me. No more meat for a week – no, make that a month.
And, yes, I’m also quietly confident that Giardino will supply the missing link to Aldo.
’ He took a sip of wine. ‘But I fail to see what interest they could have had in murdering him. Surely if Aldo was regularly producing high-value artefacts, it was in their interests to keep him sweet and alive.’
‘I suppose they might have decided to do away with him and try to take over his operation for themselves.’
Virgilio’s phone started ringing again. This time, it was a relatively short call and there was a broad smile on his face when it finished.
‘That was Piero again. Forensics have found a toothbrush at Aldo’s villa.
DNA testing proves that it’s been used by Teresa Franceschini.
Maybe it was a crime of passion after all.
She’s being taken to the station as we speak.
’ He picked up his glass and clinked it against mine.
‘Cheers, Dan, I think we might be nearing a conclusion.’