Chapter 6
TUESDAY AFTERNOON
While uniformed officers started taking fingerprints, the four of us began interviewing the occupants of the villa, and the interviews revealed a number of things.
First, Eddie hadn’t been joking when he’d said that Tristan Angel always travelled around with a group of his employees.
Wherever the big boss had decided to go, a cohort of staff had gone with him.
What was special this time was that this group who had accompanied him to the villa was made up predominantly of the senior management of the company.
According to Donald Hicks, their intention had been to sit down together and discuss plans for the next twelve months.
They had flown over on Monday morning and, as I had surmised, they had rented the vehicles upon arrival at Florence Peretola airport.
The first person on our interview schedule was Donald Hicks.
He revealed that the company, TXA Supplies, was registered in Panama, which I knew to be a notorious tax haven, and he told us that all of the people here at the villa except for the Spanish woman were employees of the company.
He confirmed what we had thought when he told us that he was now ‘de facto head of the company’.
When asked if there was a board of directors of the company, he acknowledged that he was a director, but he was far from forthcoming as far as any others were concerned.
He just repeated that TXA Supplies had been ‘a close-knit organisation’, echoing Eddie’s words.
Although he indicated that the company had sub-offices and warehouses dotted around the globe, it was clear that these were staffed by more junior employees, and this handful of people here called all the shots.
In spite of what Paul had told me about the company’s massive turnover, it was remarkable that it only needed such a small body of senior staff to look after everything.
Hicks’s explanation for this was that he and his colleagues were what he called ‘enablers’.
They produced nothing, but located the materiel and negotiated the contracts between suppliers and end users, no doubt taking a hefty commission for their pains.
He informed us that quite often the suppliers themselves were responsible for seeing that the goods got to their destinations, and TXA never even saw the goods.
He confirmed that the group had arrived before lunch on Monday, and immediately after eating, he had chaired a staff meeting lasting most of the afternoon while Tristan Angel had been closeted away, speaking to the Spanish lawyer.
Hicks went on to tell us that this morning, he had gone into Florence with the others, who had all been keen to visit the city, most of them for the first time.
When asked about Tristan Angel’s movements, he said he believed Angel had had a meeting at the luxury Four Seasons hotel, although he had no idea with whom.
I studied him carefully as he answered the questions.
He was good, but something told me he wasn’t giving us the whole truth.
Also, the more I heard him talk, the more this reinforced my initial impression that he was a less than trustworthy character.
I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something about him that I didn’t like.
Interestingly, Oscar didn’t even wander over to say hello to him, which is always a bad sign.
My dog is a remarkably good judge of character – although his opinion of people can all too easily be swayed by the offer of food.
Hicks didn’t offer him any food, and Oscar and I remained unimpressed.
Hicks told us that this morning, he had simply gone for a walk around town.
When asked if anybody had accompanied him on his walk, he shook his head, but I didn’t necessarily see this lack of an alibi as a sign of guilt.
From what Virgilio had said, the murder had been carried out professionally, and it seemed unlikely that the killer would have omitted to provide himself with an alibi.
However, this didn’t mean that Hicks was out of the woods by any means.
After all, he had had a powerful motive for committing the murder so as to take over as head of the company, and I kept him high up on my list of serious suspects for now.
My suspicions deepened when he told us that he had visited the duomo at just after ten, only minutes after the victim.
For my money, this meant that he’d had not only motive, but also opportunity. Mr Hicks was definitely worth watching.
By the time we had finished questioning him, we knew a bit more about the extent of the company’s operations – but not a lot.
Hicks had refused to name names or give any specific detail of the company’s clients, although it was clear that, as Paul had told me, TXA was a major player on the world stage and, as such, potentially vulnerable to attack from almost anywhere – which didn’t make our job any easier.
Virgilio asked him if he had any idea of the identity of the person Angel had been planning to meet that morning, but he shook his head.
In answer to Virgilio’s thinly veiled scepticism that the second in command of the company hadn’t been aware of his boss’s movements, Hicks offered an explanation – of sorts.
‘In our line of business, there are certain contacts who refuse to deal with anybody except one specific person. I have a few myself who will deal only with me. It’s a matter of trust. As I’m sure you can imagine, many of our customers prefer to keep a very low profile.
I can only assume that Tristan was meeting one of his close contacts, and it was quite usual that he didn’t disclose this person’s identity to me. ’
Virgilio and I exchanged glances. Secrecy was evidently the name of the game in the arms business.
‘Do you know if Tristan had any close contacts here in Italy?’
‘Nobody springs to mind.’
We had no way of knowing whether this was true or not, and Virgilio was unable to squeeze anything more out of him.
When he quizzed Hicks on the exact status of the Spanish woman at the lunch table, Hicks was prepared only to repeat what she had already told us: that she was a lawyer and that she had had a business relationship with Tristan Angel.
When asked whether she or Penelope Green might have had a personal relationship with the victim, he declared himself unable to comment.
‘I concentrate on the business, not what people do in their spare time.’
Virgilio’s final question produced no surprises. ‘Have you any idea, Mr Hicks, who might have murdered Mr Angel?’
‘No idea at all, I’m afraid.’
This, along with his answers to all the other questions, reinforced what I’d been thinking throughout the interview: getting information out of this bunch was going to be like getting blood out of a stone.
After Hicks had left the room, Virgilio summed him up: ‘I’ve met more communicative corpses in the mortuary.’
I nodded in rueful agreement. What we had been hoping to do with our questions had been to identify possible suspects and eliminate others. By the sound of it, rather than reduce the list of suspects, we seemed to be getting more and more.
Working on the basis that jealousy can often be a motive for murder, we next interviewed the two female guests. We started with the blonde woman, Penelope Green.
Sergeant Dini ushered her into the small lounge and into an armchair opposite where Virgilio and I were seated. The interview started with Virgilio questioning her in English, with me prepared to chip in from time to time to translate or throw in a question of my own as necessary.
‘You told me your name is Penelope Green, and that you are the communications officer?’
‘That’s correct.’ She appeared far more interested in Oscar, who had immediately headed over, tail wagging, to say hello, and she concentrated her attention on him as Virgilio questioned her.
‘Please would you confirm your date of birth and your address?’
She duly reeled off the information and confirmed it by handing over her passport. She gave an address in north London and told us she was thirty.
‘What does the job of communications officer entail?’
‘I have a master’s degree in international trade and I’m an IT specialist. I monitor social media in different countries to assess the social, economic and political situation wherever TXA is operating.’
‘Does this mean that you’re a linguist?’
‘I speak French and some Spanish – not Italian, I’m afraid – and I grew up in Jordan, so I’m fluent in spoken and written modern Arabic. As you can imagine, the way things are in the Middle East at the moment, that helps.’
‘Do you work from an office in London, or do you travel around with the rest of this group?’
‘I only started working for the company in January, and I’ve spent most of my time at the London HQ.
I travelled with Tristan to Oman in June and to Kuwait with him in July, but this is the first time I’ve been invited along with a group like this.
I’m just a relatively junior employee, but these are the people who run the company. ’
Virgilio adopted his affable voice. ‘This is a murder investigation, so I’m afraid I have to ask some awkward questions. Please can you tell me, was your relationship with the victim purely a work relationship?’
It appeared to me as if she was doing her best to look as cool as a cucumber – at least on the outside – but there was something in her eyes that gave her away.
Maybe she wasn’t as relaxed as she wanted to appear.
What was the reason for that? I wondered.
Was it just natural unease at finding herself caught up in a murder investigation, or was there more to it than that – like guilt?
Mind you, Oscar the lie detector was snuggled up alongside her, so maybe I was wrong.