Chapter 22 #2
He didn’t reply immediately, which was just as well because at that moment, I encountered a concrete-mixer truck coming down the narrow road towards me, and I was fully occupied in squeezing the Land Rover off the road into a snowdrift to let it pass.
I received a grateful wave from the driver in his dayglow jacket and then had to wait until half a dozen other vehicles behind it had passed before I could once more pull out onto the road and carry on with our journey.
In the meantime, William had been thinking.
‘Dan, I need to tell you something.’ I listened attentively as he continued.
‘Has anybody told you about the missing money?’ He didn’t give me time to answer.
‘Over a million euros have gone missing in the last couple of months. I was the first person to spot it and I told Orlando. He and I’ve been investigating over the past few weeks, and only yesterday afternoon, I finally worked out who’s responsible.
’ He paused, mainly because I had had to do an emergency stop as a little Ape, loaded with cages of chickens, had emerged from a side road without looking.
If I’d been Italian, I would have leant on the horn and waved my arms about, but I was English and, more importantly, I was far more interested in William’s story.
Did he really know who the embezzler was and, more to the point, did this mean that it wasn’t him?
I glanced over at him. ‘So who was it?’
Even though we were alone in the noisy Land Rover, he lowered his voice.
‘As I say, I only found the proof late yesterday afternoon, and you’re the first person I’ve told.
I looked for Orlando, but he was tied up, so I went for a walk with Winston and intended to break the news of my discovery to Orlando as soon as I got back, but then I stupidly slipped on the ice and the only thing I broke was my ankle.
’ He took a deep breath. ‘It was Calogero… Calogero Naselli, the Head of Accounts.’ There was a pause.
‘I’ve suspected him all along, but now I have the proof.
That’s why I’m glad it wasn’t murder. Ever since I heard of Signor Viviani’s death, I’ve had the awful idea that the person who had been embezzling the money might have killed to save himself. ’
I did my best to digest what he had told me. Could this possibly be true, or was this an attempt by the real guilty party to muddy the waters by accusing an innocent man?
I pressed him for more detail. ‘How did you manage to uncover the embezzlement? I thought you were Bartolomeo’s PA, not in Accounts.’
He shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea what Signor Viviani’s previous PAs did – probably spent their time sitting on his lap or painting their nails – but I quickly realised that there was very little for me to do.
I’ve always been interested in figures so I started taking a closer look at the books.
’ He looked across at me. ‘I wasn’t doing anything untoward; Signor Viviani gave me his permission.
Anyway, I gradually began to realise that there was something wrong, and that big sums of money had been disappearing.
’ He went on to outline in technical financial terms what he’d done and how he’d come to the conclusion that Calogero had been stealing the money.
I followed most of it, but not all of it, and it sounded convincing.
If I hadn’t been told about his sudden departure from his previous job, I would have taken it at face value.
As it was, I decided to tread cautiously.
‘And when you realised that money was going missing, you went to Orlando, not your boss. Why was that?’
‘I only realised the extent of it a few days after Vincenzo Mazzini had been killed, and Signor Viviani had convinced himself that he would be next. As a result, he more or less closeted himself away and started hitting the bottle, big time. I knew there would be no point in going to him with something like that, so the next best was Orlando. To be honest, I like Orlando and I felt I would get a more sympathetic reception from him, and I’m glad I handed my findings to him.
He took the information to his father, and the two of them had an awful row as a result.
It sounded as if Signor Viviani was blaming Orlando for what we had discovered. Talk about shooting the messenger!’
‘I see.’ I gave it a few moments and then moved on to the more sensitive issue.
‘As part of my investigations, I’ve been looking into the backgrounds of all the people at the villa, and I’ve come up against a query alongside your name.
I gather you left your previous job rather suddenly. Why was that?’
‘You’ve been checking up on me?’ He sounded shocked.
I did my best to sound reassuring. ‘I’ve been checking up on everybody, William. It’s my job; it’s what I do. So what happened there?’
By this time, we had reached the turn-off for San Giorgio and I had to wait almost until the first hairpin before he decided to explain.
‘The constituency manager has a daughter, Annabelle. She and I started going out together, but her father was dead against it. He wanted to marry her to a lord or an earl or something, not a young staffer like me. When he found out, he started shouting at me right there in the middle of the office. I’m afraid I lost it and I told him in no uncertain terms where he could stick his job. ’
I suppressed a smile. ‘And what about Annabelle?’
He didn’t smile. ‘She decided to do as Daddy told her, and the last I heard was that she’s now going out with a Conservative MP almost twice her age who’s almost certainly going to lose his seat at the next election. Good luck to the lot of them.’
If this was a made-up story, William was good at thinking on his feet – or, rather, on his one good foot – but it should be easy enough to confirm.
Assuming that he was right and the money had been stolen by the Head of Accounts, could it be that Calogero had killed his boss in order to prevent his stealing from being revealed?
I found myself tending to believe William and I knew that the next item on my agenda was to sit down and talk first to Orlando and then to Calogero Naselli.
The unwelcome thought occurred to me that he and Cinzia were supposed to be leaving today.
I hoped I wouldn’t arrive back too late.