Chapter 9
WEDNESDAY MORNING
I was just on my way back from my early-morning walk with Oscar next day when I got a call from Virgilio.
‘Ciao, Dan, we’re back in business.’
I stopped and rested against the trunk of a gnarled old giant cypress tree that might well have been planted back in Renaissance times.
Although it wasn’t eight o’clock yet, there was already real heat in the sun, and I noticed that Oscar soon joined me, tongue hanging out, in the limited shade provided by the tall, slender tree.
‘You mean you’re back on the Angel case? What’s happened to change the questore’s mind?’
‘There’s been another death, this time inside the villa itself.’
‘Wow. Who’s been killed?’ As I asked the question, I found myself hoping it wouldn’t turn out to be Penelope Green.
When we’d spoken by the pool, I’d had the feeling that the expression I’d spotted on her face had been one of fear.
Had this fear been justified? Virgilio’s answer came as something of a relief.
‘Donald Hicks.’
Although I remembered having seen what might have been a few flickers of fear on the faces of one or two of the others around the table in the dining room the previous day when Virgilio had announced that Tristan Angel had been murdered, Hicks had looked unmoved.
In fact, I’d had him chalked up as my number-one suspect for Angel’s murder, and now he had been removed from the equation. What did this mean?
There was disbelief – and maybe a bit of disappointment – in my voice when I replied. ‘Hicks has been killed, and the death was suspicious?’
‘Gianni’s there now and he says there are what look like traces of arsenic poisoning on the victim’s face and lips.
There’s an empty pill jar and a water glass alongside him, so it could be that he took it by himself, but Gianni tells me he’s not convinced.
For now, I’m treating it as possible murder and, of course, this changes the complexion of the case. ’
There was no need for him to spell it out to me.
Unless there had been a break-in, it now seemed clear that this death – assuming it hadn’t been suicide – must have been committed by somebody at the villa and, if this did turn out to be the case, that same person might well have murdered Tristan Angel yesterday as well.
Virgilio’s nemesis from the security services would appear to have got it wrong yet again, and I could hear the satisfaction in Virgilio’s voice.
‘The Angel case is back in our hands, and I’m on my way up there now. I should be able to handle the language, but if I get into trouble, is it all right if I give you a call?’
‘Of course. How come the AISE guys have given up?’
‘It’s not that they’ve given up; they’ve been relieved of their duties.’
‘Why? Did they screw up?’
‘Oh, yes… I’ll tell you all about it when I next see you.’
‘I need to go into the office just to check on a few things that happened yesterday while I was out, but that shouldn’t take me more than half an hour or so. If you need help, just shout. You know me; I quite like being involved in a murder investigation.’
There was a lighter note in his voice when he responded. ‘Just like old times, eh, Dan?’
He does know me so well.
I drove down to the office at nine and parked in the courtyard alongside a wonderful old wooden door that I knew led down to a rabbit warren of cellars.
I had once been shown around down there by my landlord, and it had been an eery place with rusty chains hanging on walls, windowless, cell-like rooms, and sinister, centuries-old iron implements whose purpose didn’t bear thinking about.
The landlord had told me he believed these cellars to have been used by the Inquisition in medieval times, and I had to admit to having been glad to get out again.
The beauties of Florence often conceal a blood-soaked past.
Upstairs on the first floor, I found Lina at her desk. While making a fuss of Oscar with one hand, she handed me a scrap of paper with the other. On it was a mobile number and the name Penelope Green. I waited until Lina had given Oscar a biscuit before checking.
‘When did she call?’
‘The office phone was ringing when I arrived at a quarter to nine. She sounded nervous… well, to be honest, she sounded scared stiff.’
‘I’m not surprised.’ I gave Lina a brief summary of yesterday’s and today’s events before heading into my office to make the call. I deliberately did it on the landline so Penelope would recognise the number, and she answered on the second ring.
‘Hello, Mr Armstrong?’ She was keeping her voice low.
‘Ms Green, what can I do for you?’
‘Have you heard the news?’
‘About Donald Hicks’s death, yes.’
‘He’s been murdered, you know that, don’t you?’
Considering that the pathologist probably hadn’t even started the autopsy yet, I wondered if this was just a wild guess or something more. ‘Is that what you think?’
‘I’m convinced of it.’ There wasn’t a shred of doubt in her voice. ‘He’s been murdered, and I’m terrified I might be next.’ She sounded it.
‘Where are you at the moment? Can you speak freely?’
‘Yes, I’m outside at the top of the garden. There’s nobody nearby.’
‘Assuming that it was murder, what makes you think that you might be next? Do you know who did it?’
‘I don’t know who did it. I wish I did, but it has to be one of us, doesn’t it?
There were two or three of those plain-clothes people from the Italian security services here all last night, guarding the gate, and they wouldn’t allow anybody in or out.
It must have been an inside job. First Tristan, and now Donald. ’
‘I’ve spoken to the chief inspector, and he tells me there’s a possibility that this latest death might be suicide, so don’t let’s get ahead of ourselves.
But if it really was murder, can you think of any reason why somebody might have wanted Angel and Hicks dead and, more urgently, why that same person might want you or one of the others dead? ’
She gave a frustrated sigh. ‘I just don’t know.
That’s what I want you to find out. I’ll pay you whatever your rates are to look into this, because I have no confidence in the plain-clothes security-service people.
At least when we had uniformed police around, that gave a sense of protection, although, if they think it was suicide, they’re wrong.
For all I know, Donald might even have been murdered by one of the plain-clothes people. ’
This was an intriguing thought, but, without knowing more about the four operatives sent up from the ministry in Rome, there was no way to establish any kind of motive.
Besides, it still had to be confirmed whether it had been murder or not.
I reflected on what she had just said and I did my best to reassure her.
‘Don’t worry about hiring me to investigate.
You know my background was in the Metropolitan police, so you probably know that I’ve spent years of my life investigating everything from pickpockets to serial killers.
As I understand it, the secret service people have been removed from the investigation and the police are now back on the case.
I’ll speak to Chief Inspector Pisano and tell him you called, and I’m sure, if it turns out that it really was murder, he’ll let me join in with his investigation.
That way, I should get access to a lot more information than I would if I tried to do it privately. Are you happy for me to do that?’
‘Yes, of course, thank you so much.’ She sounded quite overwhelmed, and her icy-cool persona of yesterday had disappeared without trace. Mind you, finding yourself confined in a house with a killer can have that effect on people.
I carried on in an encouraging tone – she sounded as if she needed it.
‘I’ll speak to Chief Inspector Pisano now, and I’ll come up to the villa shortly, so don’t worry. I imagine I’ll be involved in the interviews he’s bound to want to have with everybody all over again, but, while I’ve got you to myself, can I ask you a few questions?’
‘Yes, of course, anything.’ At least she was sounding a lot more hopeful – and helpful – now.
‘When we spoke by the pool yesterday, you told me that the atmosphere in the group had been tense, and there had been some rows. Please think hard and try to tell me anything you can remember about these rows. Who was involved, and what were they arguing about?’
‘Tristan was unusually snappy with everybody, me included. I’d never seen him like that before.
He was really touchy about everything, and that sort of permeated the whole group.
I even heard Eddie swearing at Carl, and they’re both normally so good-humoured.
Yes, Eddie looks like a total thug – and I’m sure he can turn it on if he wants – but he’s got a heart of gold underneath the rough exterior. ’
‘Can you remember any specifics of any of the arguments Tristan might have had, and with whom?’
I had to wait a few seconds for her reply.
When it came, she was sounding hesitant.
‘I heard him shouting at Vince, Vincent Archer, on Monday evening. They were in his study, but everybody must have heard it. The phrase that kept echoing through the house was, “How could you do such a thing?” I wasn’t close enough to hear what he meant by that, but clearly, Tristan was accusing Vince of having done something wrong, or of allowing something bad to happen. ’
I thought about this for a few moments. I knew that Vincent Archer was the financial director. Had he made a serious mistake, or had Angel even been accusing him of stealing from the company? Whatever it was, it must have been serious if it had led to murder, or even a double murder.
‘Any other arguments you might have overheard?’
‘Nothing much, except that Liam and Vince almost got into a fight a bit later on Monday night, and Big Peter had to step in to separate them. I’ve no idea what it was about, but they both looked furious.’
This was potentially significant, and I resolved to pass on the information to Virgilio and Marco.
The other thing that was going around in my head was the question of why Hicks had been killed – if, of course, it turned out to have been murder.
If it hadn’t been a business matter, could it have been personal?
After all, like his boss, Hicks had been a good-looking and younger man, and he had also no doubt been very well off – probably even more so after Angel’s death.
Might a woman have been involved? But why should one of them choose to kill him?
Had he, rather than Tristan Angel, been playing around?
And if he had, it seemed highly unlikely that this had been with the newly arrived Spanish lawyer, which left us with Penelope.
But, if Penelope had committed murder, why try to get a private investigator involved as well as the police? It made no sense.
Seeing as she appeared happy to talk, I thought I had better try and establish once and for all what her relationship had been with Tristan Angel, and now also with Donald Hicks.
‘I’m sorry to be so suspicious, but that’s my profession.
You said yesterday that your relationship with Tristan Angel was purely business.
In the light of what’s happened to him and to Mr Hicks, are you still sticking to that story, or is there something you want to tell me?
I certainly got the impression yesterday that at least some of the people in the room thought that you and Tristan had hooked up, but might you have been involved with Donald Hicks?
Please tell me the truth. This is a murder investigation, and any bit of information, however insignificant you think it might be, can add up and prove important. ’
There was what could have been stunned silence at the other end for several seconds until she finally answered, and I was relieved to hear her reply in even, if terse tones.
‘No, I can assure you that Tristan and I were not an item, and as for Donald, you must be joking.’ There was another pause before she added an interesting piece of information.
‘The first thing you need to know – ask anybody – is that Don was gay. There’s no way he could possibly have been interested in me, even if I had been looking for a man – which I am not.
’ There was real conviction in her voice.
‘As for Tristan, the honest truth is that he did proposition me on the two previous trips I did with him, and I’m pretty sure the main reason he brought me along this time was so he could try again, rather than for my social-media skills.
What am I doing here otherwise, in the midst of the top management of the company? ’
I had to wait a couple of seconds before she opened up a bit more.
‘This is going to sound like I’m just moaning, and you’ll probably laugh, but all my life, I’ve found it almost impossible ever to be taken seriously just for me, whether for my academic ability, my effectiveness in the workplace, or even as a Girl Guide many years ago.
Time and time again, men don’t see any further than the outside.
I’m not stupid; I know some men find me attractive, but you can’t imagine how frustrating it is never to be judged on your ability, always on your looks.
As I say, I’m sorry if this sounds like me just being gratuitously bitchy, but time and again, that’s what I’ve encountered. ’
This sounded genuine and heartfelt, and I reassured her. ‘Thank you, Penelope, I appreciate your openness. Tell me, what about Emilia Cortez? Was her relationship with Tristan purely business, or do you think he was also pursuing her?’
It didn’t take long for her to formulate a response.
‘I think it might have been the other way around. Maybe she was pursuing him. There was something about the way she looked at him. I definitely got the idea that she would have been more than happy if something had happened between them but, for some reason, he couldn’t stop fixating on me. ’
This was an interesting observation, and it was consistent with the impression Sergeant Dini had received.
Might Angel have been murdered by Emilia Cortez in a rage of unrequited love?
But I was at a loss to see why she might then have murdered the allegedly gay Hicks.
Were we looking for two different murderers?
I promised Penelope once again that I would do my best for her and told her to try not to worry.
Easier said than done.