Chapter 4
TUESDAY AFTERNOON
Inside the front door, we found ourselves in a long entrance hall with a suit of armour standing against the left wall and a pair of crossed swords hanging opposite it.
Whether these were the genuine article or more modern replicas remained to be seen, but it was clear that somebody had been trying to create an impression of antiquity, even if a modern vertical radiator against the end wall and a state-of-the-art security-system control panel behind the door didn’t look more than a few years old.
The ‘small’ lounge was the size of the whole downstairs of my house, and it had been furnished with a pair of ultramodern sofas and a coffee table made of a highly polished slab of stone with an amazing fossil of some sort of sea creature in it.
Against the wall on one side was a white piano, and at the end of the room was a fine sculpted stone fire surround.
It looked like something out of a design magazine.
Signora Manetti retreated, and a few seconds later, just as I was trying to decipher the signature on a fine oil painting of none other than the duomo itself, the door opened and Eddie, Tristan Angel’s ‘right-hand man’ appeared.
The man was probably in his late thirties or early forties, and he was as tall as I am – a bit over six feet – but broader in the shoulders and ripped with muscle.
Apart from his build, it was his face in particular that struck me.
It looked as though it had been hewn out of granite and then dropped nose first onto the floor.
I had a feeling I was looking at an ex-boxer, and a rock-hard one at that.
He padded across the tiled floor towards us remarkably silently, with just a hint of a limp, producing a theatrical bow as he greeted us.
Although he was behaving politely, there was definitely something threatening about him, and I had a feeling he had most probably been employed as a bodyguard for the arms dealer.
Interestingly, Oscar retreated behind my legs as the man approached.
He was wearing shorts and a khaki T-shirt and there were tattoos on both his arms and white scars on both legs.
When he opened his mouth to speak, I spotted at least three teeth missing – quite possibly knocked out in the ring – and his voice instantly revealed his London origins.
‘Afternoon, gents. Welcome to our humble abode.’ Humble was pronounced without the ‘h’.
In spite of his choice of vocabulary, he didn’t look particularly welcoming.
I translated for Virgilio’s sake, although his English is pretty good.
After all, my stated reason for being here was to act as interpreter as needed.
Virgilio introduced himself and continued in English. ‘I understand that you are the right-hand man to Mr Tristan Angel. Is that correct?’
The big man produced an ironic smile. ‘Among other things. I’m what you might call a jack of all trades, master of none. I suppose you’ve come to see the boss, or are you after one of the family?’
‘The family?’
Eddie grinned, and I counted a fourth gaping cavity. I reckoned he must have taken quite a pounding in his time. ‘We’re all one big happy family here – well, not a real family and not always happy, but we’re what’s known as a close-knit group.’
Virgilio double-checked for the sake of clarity. ‘But none of you are actually related?’
The bodyguard – or whatever he was – was still grinning. ‘No, but sometimes, it feels like it. So, it’s the boss you want to see, is it?’
Virgilio shook his head. ‘I’m afraid I come bearing bad news. It would appear that Mr Angel has been murdered.’
The grin disappeared off the big man’s face in an instant, to be replaced by a look that combined shock and maybe something more – like fear or even guilt?
‘The boss murdered? Where…? How?’ If it was an act, it was a good one. He looked genuinely gobsmacked.
Virgilio didn’t go into any great detail. ‘In Florence this morning. If there’s nobody here related to him, do you have details of his next of kin?’
Eddie was still looking stunned, so stunned that Oscar must have put aside his reservations as he emerged from behind my legs and trotted over to rub his nose against the man’s knee. Eddie reached down to scratch his ears remarkably gently while he answered.
‘You’ve got me there, squire. I’ve known the boss for almost ten years now, and he’s never once spoken about his folks.’
‘Was he married?’
‘Yes, but that all went down the Swanee years ago.’ I translated for Virgilio’s benefit, and he nodded in comprehension.
‘Did they have any children?’ Eddie shook his head, and Virgilio went on with his questions. ‘Did Mr Angel live here full time along with you and the people you call the family?’
Eddie shook his head again. ‘No, we’ve only just got here.’
‘Exactly how long have you been here?’
‘We flew in from London first thing yesterday.’
‘All of you?’
‘Every last one of us, guvnor.’
‘You go everywhere together?’
‘The boss hardly ever goes anywhere alone. I’m pretty much always with him.
’ He grinned at us and flexed his impressive biceps.
‘I provide protection. This week, there’s a whole heap of us in the group.
Like a travelling bleedin’ circus, we are.
London last week, Italy this. God knows where we’ll be next week – probably Africa or somewhere in the back of beyond.
’ He paused for thought while I translated.
‘Leastways, that’s how it’s been up till now.
Now the boss has snuffed it, who knows?’
Again, I translated for Virgilio’s benefit before asking Eddie a question of my own. ‘So if you provide protection, how come you weren’t with him this morning?’
His expression darkened. ‘I can’t protect him if he don’t want me with him, can I? I told him I’d come with him this morning, but he said no, he had something he wanted to do on his own.’
‘Did he tell you what that was?’
Eddie shook his head. ‘Just that it was private.’
‘Did he often go off on his own?’
‘Sometimes, but I didn’t like it. Anything could have happened to him… and I was right, wasn’t I? Something did happen, didn’t it?’
He looked genuinely unhappy, so I changed the subject back to him.
‘So, apart from providing protection, what does a jack of all trades do in a set-up like this? I imagine you do more than flex your muscles and polish the silverware. Are you the lion tamer, or the ringmaster to your travelling circus?’
He guffawed. ‘Ringmaster, me? No, that was the boss. Me, I do a bit of this and a bit of that.’ He paused for thought. ‘I’m not so much the lion tamer as the bloke what gets fired out of the cannon.’
‘And are there many lions that need taming?’
Eddie suddenly looked more serious and that threatening expression returned.
In spite of his mock-joviality, this was a dangerous man.
I could sense it, and I noted that Oscar chose this moment to return to his defensive position behind me.
‘You’d be surprised how many lions there are out there – and wolves and jackals. ’
‘Were you involved in your boss’s business?’
Eddie was looking shiftier now. ‘No, not me, guv. That was well above my pay grade.’
‘And the other people in your happy group? Are they involved with the business?’
A sly expression appeared on his battered face.
‘You’d better ask them that. Like I say, I’m just the odd-job man.
’ An odd-job man who looked as though he could demolish a few walls with his bare hands.
Eddie was a tough character, and I had no doubt that he knew a whole lot more than he was letting on.
Virgilio took up the questioning once more. ‘I’m going to need the names of everybody in your group, starting with your own, please.’ We both pulled out our notebooks as Eddie launched into a roll call.
‘Me? I’m Eddie, Edward Alfred Smith. Then there’s Mr Hicks.
’ Once again, the ‘h’ was lacking. Seeing that Virgilio needed more, he elaborated.
‘Mr Donald Hicks, he’s Mr Angel’s second in command.
’ He started counting the names on his fingers.
‘Then there’s Mr Archer and Mr Sinclair, along with Pete and Alex and Liam.
They’re all involved with the business.’
‘And what is the business?’
‘The company’s name is TXA Supplies, but Mr Hicks will be able to tell you more.’
‘Anybody else living here?’
‘There’s Penelope.’ I couldn’t help noticing the mocking way he accentuated her name. ‘And the Spanish woman. She only arrived at lunchtime yesterday, and I’m not too sure of her name.’
‘I thought you said you all arrived together.’
‘I’m sorry. I must have forgot about her.’ Neither his tone nor his appearance expressed contrition. ‘We all make mistakes.’
‘She’s not part of the family?’
‘First time I’ve seen her.’
‘And Penelope? Is she in the business?’
He gave us a racy grin. ‘Officially, yes, but I reckon she was the boss’s current bit of stuff. He likes… liked his blondes.’ I wondered if I should translate ‘bit of stuff’ for Virgilio’s benefit, but it quickly emerged that he had understood.
‘When you say “current”, how long has she been his girlfriend?’
‘You’d better ask her.’
‘And the woman who showed us in?’
‘She’s Rosina, and her husband’s Amedeo. They live here all year and look after the place. I’ll give Rosina her due, she’s a red-hot cook.’
I did a quick count-up. ‘Including you, Eddie, that makes eleven people. Is that everybody?’ With so many people in the group, there had to be more to it than just a few days’ break. Why were they here?
‘Eleven apart from the boss, yes.’ He subjected me to close examination. ‘You’re a Brit, aren’t you? What’s your deal? Are you in the Italian police?’
‘No, my name’s Dan Armstrong, and I’m just here to help Commissario Pisano with the language.’
He subjected me to closer examination. ‘Your name’s familiar. Now, I wonder why that is.’ The menace was back in his voice, but I’d met enough tough characters in my time not to be fazed.
‘You’re probably thinking of my Uncle Neil. He went to the moon, you know.’ Although I kept my tone facetious, I was studying Eddie closely. Did he know me and, if so, why didn’t I know him? I may be nudging sixty, but my memory is still pretty good, and I couldn’t recall him.
I saw him do his best to weigh up whether I was kidding or not before he returned to the events of the day. ‘So, what happened to the boss? Where was he killed? Have you any idea who done it?’
Virgilio cut in. ‘The investigation’s still at an early stage. Do you have any idea who might have done it?’
Eddie scratched his head meditatively. ‘Not off the top of me head, guvnor. We meet all sorts in this business. Back in the winter, we did a South American tour and there were some right villains there, the sort who would slit your throat as soon as look at you.’ He gave Virgilio a hint of a grin.
‘I’ll put my thinking head on and see what I can come up with.
’ He glanced over at me and shook his head sarcastically.
‘Look at me, would you? Helping the Old Bill. I don’t know what my mates would say if they found out. ’
Virgilio thanked him. ‘Now I’m going to need to speak to the people here at the villa that you’ve mentioned. Are they all here?’
Eddie paused for thought. ‘Yes, I reckon so, now.’
‘When you say “now” – have they been out?’
‘I dropped most of them down into town this morning at just after nine. The boss wanted dropping off outside a posh hotel somewhere close to the centre, and as far as I know, the rest just went sightseeing and shopping. I picked them up again at twelve, and we’re just finishing having lunch together now.
’ His expression darkened. ‘Apart from the boss. We were wondering where he’d got to. ’
‘Were you worried?’
He shook his head. ‘Not worried. Like I said, he sometimes took off on his own.’
‘What did you do between dropping them off in town and picking them up again?’
‘I found a parking space quite a way out, walked back and did a bit of shopping of my own.’ He grinned at me. ‘A selection of beauty products to keep me looking young and lovely.’
I smiled back at him. Both of us knew that that particular ship had definitely sailed. Had he really just been shopping or was he hiding something? I listened as he went on.
‘After that, I picked up the van again, came back here and did a few bits and pieces around the place.’
Virgilio closed his notebook with a snap. ‘Thank you, Mr Smith. Now I’d like to talk to everybody in the villa – apart from the housekeeper and her husband. I’ll talk to them later. Did you say people were having lunch?’
‘Most of them are still in the dining room, but I’ll go and round up any stragglers. Give me a couple of minutes.’ He pointed across to a trolley against the wall, laden with bottles. ‘If you gents want to help yourselves to a snifter while I spread the word, be my guest.’
He turned and left the room. Virgilio waited until the door had closed behind him before speaking.
‘If Angel’s death was the work of one of the people here, it sounds as though most of them could have had the opportunity to do it. From what Eddie Smith says, the lot of them were wandering around the centre of town this morning.’
I nodded in agreement. The same thought had been going through my head.
The other thing that had been going around in my head had been the thought that my daughter and her fiancé had most probably been in the duomo at almost exactly the same time as Tristan Angel, arms dealer, had been murdered.
Hopefully, they hadn’t been caught up in it.
It looked as though the duomo was an unexpectedly dangerous place.