Chapter 8 #2
This came as a bit of a surprise to me. ‘Given their trade and given the risks they must have known they faced, I would have expected somebody like Angel to have an armoury of weapons stashed away in all his houses just in case. Are you sure your people checked everywhere?’
Virgilio looked even more frustrated. ‘No, I’m not.
Authorisation to search the premises only came through minutes before our friends from Rome arrived.
All my people had been able to do was to take a quick look around, but nothing in depth.
At least they managed to grab Angel’s laptop, and Tech are working on it as we speak.
Agent Toselli told me in no uncertain terms that his people would be responsible for giving the place a thorough search but, given his track record, I’m not holding my breath for any great discoveries. ’
‘Won’t he want Angel’s laptop?’
Virgilio shrugged. ‘If he asks for it, I’ll see that he gets it, but I bet it won’t even cross his mind.’ He certainly had a dim view of the secret service man, so I changed the subject.
‘I’ve spoken to Paul in London and he’s promised to run the people at the villa across UK police records. In the meantime, I’ve been taking a look on the Internet to see if I could find any more about them, but I’m no further on now than I was before. Did your people come up with anything?’
‘Only that the big German has a record, but no big deal. He was involved in a nightclub brawl when he was in his twenties, but he’s been clean since then.’
‘Did you find out who Angel was supposed to be meeting at the Four Seasons hotel or at the duomo?’
‘They all claim not to know, not even Hicks. CCTV at the hotel between nine and ten this morning shows no trace of Angel. Tech have been through it twice, but it seems clear that he never went there, so they’ve been trawling through the city’s security-camera footage in the hope of tracking him from when he and the others were dropped off in the minibus close to the station at just after nine.
I know we’re no longer officially on the case, but I’ve told them to carry on for now.
As you can imagine, with so many tourists in the city at the moment, it’s a thankless task, and I’m not expecting any immediate results – if any. ’
‘Did you get a chance to ask Hicks about the South African mercenary mentioned by Eddie Smith? Did he think he might be behind Angel’s murder?’
‘I asked Hicks and, according to him, the South African – name of Jan Kerk – was killed in a mysterious explosion at his home in Pretoria only a few weeks ago. We’ve checked with the South African police and they have confirmed his death as suspicious but say that they’re still searching for the perpetrators.
So it looks like we can remove Kerk from our list of possible suspects. ’
‘Did you mention this to Eddie Smith?’
‘Yes, and all he could say was, “There are plenty of others like him still around,” although he couldn’t come up with any other suggestions.’
I heard sounds behind me and spotted Tricia and Shaun at the kitchen door. I beckoned to them to come over and introduced Shaun to Virgilio – he had already met Tricia.
He shook hands with them both. ‘Good to see you. I hope you enjoy your stay in Tuscany – it’s the best place in the world.
’ Like most Tuscans, he has a very high opinion of his home region – and rightly so.
Then he swallowed the last of his beer and turned to me.
‘I need to get off. Lina’s making a risotto tonight and she’s probably already started.
Thanks again for your help today. I just feel frustrated that we can’t carry on with the investigation and come to some resolution. ’
I nodded in agreement. I knew just how he felt.
Anna emerged from the kitchen and she and the other two sat down under the pergola while I organised some cold drinks for everybody.
The barbecue was already glowing red so I reckoned I would just about have time to finish my beer before getting to work on the rack of ribs that had been marinading in olive oil, wine, mixed herbs and my secret ingredient – Worcestershire sauce – for the last couple of hours.
I sat down with the others and listened as Tricia and Shaun related their experiences today.
I made no mention of Tristan Angel, but when they were talking about their visit to the duomo, I couldn’t help asking if they’d noticed anything unusual.
After more than thirty years, Tricia knows me all too well, and she answered my question with a question.
‘Why do you ask, Dad? Did something happen in the duomo?’
Deciding that a gruesome murder wasn’t suitable pre-dinner conversation, I told a little white lie.
‘It was just something Virgilio said. There must have been some sort of incident there this morning.’ I decided to play it down.
‘Of course, with so many people milling about, I suppose something’s bound to happen every now and then. ’
Tricia gave me a sceptical look but, thankfully, she didn’t probe any further.
‘There were certainly loads of people in there, a lot of them just to get out of the heat outside, I’m sure, but I didn’t see anything.
’ She glanced at Shaun. ‘You spent more time in there than I did. Did you see anything untoward?’ She glanced at me again and explained.
‘For some reason, he didn’t feel like coming with me into an amazing lingerie shop, so we agreed to meet up again inside the duomo. ’
Shaun shook his head. ‘Not unless you count an altercation at the door between a Chinese tourist guide and the people at the main entrance. It was a big group and the guide was carrying a loudhailer. When she was told she would have to leave it outside, she wasn’t best pleased.
Otherwise, nothing out of the ordinary although, as Tricia says, there were hundreds upon hundreds of tourists in there.
’ He took a sip of beer and stretched his legs.
‘Florence is a beautiful place but, God, it doesn’t half get busy in the summer – and hot. ’