Chapter 23
THURSDAY MORNING
When we got up to San Giorgio, it was to find that Paolo had done an excellent job of clearing the track.
There was still a thin covering of snow on it, but it had been compressed down by the snowcat and I felt sure that my van would have no real trouble negotiating it, even without snow chains.
Whether Ingrid’s beloved Ferrari or the other luxury cars would manage to do it remained to be seen.
I asked William what car Calogero had brought and he told me it was a dark-blue Lancia saloon.
It came as a considerable relief as we approached the villa to see the Lancia still parked there. The bird had not yet flown.
I gave William a hand to get out of the Land Rover and onto his crutches.
When we got to the front door of the villa, Valentina appeared with a welcoming smile on her face, gave him an affectionate peck on the cheek and helped him make his way down the corridor to the lounge.
I spotted Orlando by the lounge door and indicated that I needed to speak to him in private.
It occurred to me that I still had Bartolomeo’s keys in my pocket, so I handed them to him and suggested that we go and speak in his father’s study, where we wouldn’t be overheard.
There was an amusing moment inside the study when it looked as if he was about to sit down on the wrong side of the desk, but I pointed across to his father’s chair and reminded him that this was now his.
He gave me an awkward smile and sat down.
I sat down opposite him and immediately launched into an account of what I’d been told by William.
I kept my eyes on his face while I talked and I got the feeling that this wasn’t totally unexpected news. When I reached the end of my account, he nodded a couple of times before replying.
‘I’m afraid that confirms my suspicions.
Whoever took the money had to be in a senior position in the company, skilled at moving money about and expert at covering their tracks.
It really had to be Calogero, but I couldn’t prove it.
He’s been with the company for a long time, and my father point-blank refused to believe that he could have had a hand in it.
In consequence, Father even sat down with Calogero to try and discover who’d been doing it – against my advice.
In this way, he immediately revealed that we’d found out about the missing cash, and it would have given Calogero extra time to cover his tracks.
’ He gave a frustrated sigh. ‘I’m afraid ever since Vincenzo died, my father started acting really strangely.
He used to be such a smart and committed businessman, but he completely lost it over the last few weeks.
The only things that seemed to interest him were alcohol and women.
’ He lowered his voice. ‘Do you know something? He even propositioned Fiona the other day. He had no shame.’
Although it was looking pretty clear that our number-one suspect was now Calogero Naselli, I noted this last remark as being another motive for Orlando to have killed his father. Still, I told myself, one step at a time.
Unaware of my thoughts, Orlando continued.
‘I’ll speak to William and get him to give me precise details of what proof he’s managed to obtain.
’ He looked up at me across the desk. ‘Assuming that William has got it right – and I don’t doubt him for a moment, he’s a remarkably able guy – what do we do next?
Does this mean we have to get the Carabinieri involved again? ’
I’d been thinking about this. ‘If it’s all right with you, I’d like to suggest that you and I sit down with Calogero this morning and hit him with the facts.
Let’s see how he responds. If we’re lucky, he’ll go to pieces and admit, not only to the embezzlement, but also to having pushed your father off the boulder.
After that, we’ll have to get the police involved and, although you told me that you didn’t want knowledge of the missing money to be spread about, I don’t think you’ll have much option.
We would be talking murder.’ I saw him nod his head in reluctant agreement, and I struck while the iron was hot.
‘First things first, why don’t you go and have a quiet chat to William now?
Armed with the evidence that he claims to have discovered, we can then confront Calogero together. ’
He got up and left the room. I stood up in my turn and wandered around the study, flicking through papers on the desk without seeing anything particularly interesting.
I glanced out of the window and was pleased to see that the sun had now reached the villa.
I could actually see drops of water forming on the icicles outside the window, as the air slowly began to warm up.
If it carried on like this, I reckoned that everybody, even including Ingrid and her low-slung Ferrari, should be able to get back down the track again without too much trouble.
Orlando had left his father’s keys on the desktop and a thought occurred to me.
I picked them up and opened the safe in case there might be anything of significance in there.
There was a small pile of banknotes, a few assorted documents and a folder containing what I assumed to be Giorgio Gallo’s plans for the Alpine resort.
I pulled this out and studied the plans.
It was immediately obvious that it was a most ambitious project that would doubtless have necessitated a multimillion-euro investment.
I wondered if Orlando would go ahead with it, given the current financial situation of Aquila.
It certainly looked interesting, and I had no doubt that Fiona had been right when she’d said that it would be a dream come true for him. Time would tell.
I replaced the folder, locked the safe again and returned to my seat.
Oscar was stretched out on the floor at my feet, looking weary, and he barely raised his head when Orlando reappeared a couple of minutes later, carrying a laptop.
Along with him was a stern-faced Calogero.
I moved to a chair at the side of the desk, so that Calogero could be seated facing Orlando and me, and pressed Record on my phone, setting it on the desk between us.
Orlando, looking serious, didn’t waste time.
‘Calogero, why did you do it? Why steal from the company? We’ve always treated you well, haven’t we? Why do it?’
Naselli’s face was a picture. There was no hiding the momentary look of panic that flooded his face, before he did his best to collect himself and respond, adopting an outraged tone.
‘Steal from the company? Never. How can you say such a thing, Orlando? Your father would be appalled at such a suggestion.’
Full marks to Orlando, his face gave nothing away.
‘I’m sure my father would indeed have been appalled, because that’s exactly what you have been doing.
’ He opened his laptop and turned the screen so that both of them could see it.
He then launched into a very technical exposition, tapping the screen from time to time with the end of a pencil, but I wasn’t looking at the screen or trying to follow the jargon.
I was watching Aquila Sports’ Head of Accounts come to terms with the fact that he’d been caught out.
As the seriousness of the situation hit home, I saw his shoulders droop and his whole demeanour change from offended to ashamed.
When Orlando finished speaking and sat back waiting for a response, Calogero looked a shadow of his former self.
We had to wait for what seemed like an age before he finally responded, his voice almost cracking with emotion.
‘I did it for Cinzia.’ He lapsed into silence again and Orlando and I exchanged puzzled looks.
Neither of us said anything and we just waited.
Finally, Calogero managed to find the words to explain.
‘Things haven’t been going well between us for some time.
She wants children, and I can’t give them to her.
’ He actually started wringing his hands, his eyes fixed on his fingers.
‘I’ve seen doctors and specialists, but there’s nothing they can do for me.
I know that what I’ve done must seem terrible in your eyes, but I was only trying to make it up to her.
She’s always wanted a villa down on the coast, and I needed the money so I could buy that for her.
I thought this might at least go some way towards compensating for the lack of a child.
I imagine you won’t believe me, but I intended to pay it all back over the next five years a bit at a time, and nobody would have been any the wiser. ’
He looked absolutely distraught, and I had to admit that he sounded as if he was telling the truth. Nevertheless, I leant forward and spoke for the first time, adopting my stern DCI Armstrong voice.
‘But Bartolomeo found out about the missing money, didn’t he? You knew that it was only a matter of time before the finger of suspicion would point at you. Is that why you killed him – to silence him?’
His eyes rose slowly from his hands, an expression of abject horror on his face. ‘You think I killed Bartolomeo? I would never do something like that. I’m no killer.’ He crossed himself three times in quick succession. ‘Good God, no. What do you take me for?’
I sat there in silence, doing my best to process what he’d said and my reaction to it.
The fact was that I tended to believe him, but I needed to be sure.
‘On Tuesday afternoon, after your meeting with Bartolomeo, you went out for a run, didn’t you?
’ He nodded and I continued. ‘I want you to think very carefully before you answer this – what time did you go out and what time did you come back?’ I piled on the pressure.
‘You originally said that you went out for a short run just after one and were back by one-thirty or so. Are you sticking to that story? You’re facing a murder charge, Calogero.
Think very carefully and tell us the truth, the whole truth. ’
After another, shorter pause, he replied in a low, half-choked voice.
‘That wasn’t true. I went out around two and came back as soon as the snow started, say two forty-five.
When I heard what had happened to Bartolomeo and you started asking us all where we were between one-thirty and two-thirty, I panicked.
I was terrified you would find out about the money, and then – just as you’ve done now – accuse me of his murder, so I lied and gave you the wrong timings. ’
This was a significant change. This meant that he would have been able to track Bartolomeo to his favourite viewing point and push him to his death immediately prior to the arrival of the snow. In spite of his protestations, was Calogero not only a thief but a murderer?
I pressed him some more, still sounding uncompromising.
‘What route did you take on your run? Did it take you to the boulder where Bartolomeo was found dead? Only he wasn’t dead when you went there, was he?
I put it to you that you murdered him in order to stop him from discovering that you’d been stealing from the company. Are you a murderer, Calogero?’
He dropped his head into his hands, and it sounded as though he was almost sobbing when he replied through his fingers.
‘No, no, no, I swear I didn’t. I went west, up the path to the place where I met you the other day.
I didn’t go near the boulder. I didn’t see Bartolomeo and I certainly didn’t kill him. You have to believe me.’
He sounded quite convincing, but I wasn’t letting him off the hook yet.
‘Your wife confirmed your original story. Presumably, this means you asked her to lie for you. Do you realise that by lying in a murder inquiry, she was committing a serious offence that could see her go to prison?’ In fact, I doubted very much whether she would get more than a caution or a suspended sentence at most, but he didn’t need to know this.
His shoulders began to shake and it looked as though he was in tears.
I sat back and considered everything he had told us.
He had admitted being responsible for the theft of over a million euros and that, in itself, could see him end up in jail.
He had a strong motive for committing murder, but somehow I tended to believe him when he had denied that.
The problem I now had was, if he didn’t do it, who did?