Page 32 of Murder at Christmas

He nodded but gave no reply. I studied him closely, but surreptitiously, as he processed the information. Although the big white beard made it difficult for me to see his facial expression clearly, I saw him nod slowly a couple of times before transferring his attention to me.

‘Yes, thank you. I confess to feeling relieved.’ I listened attentively, wondering where he was going with this. ‘Deep down, I knew there was no way my brother would ever have taken his own life.’ His tone became more bitter. ‘He thought too much of himself. There was no way he was going to deprive the world of his presence. And when I say the world, I mean the female population of the world.’ He lowered his voice to little more than a whisper. ‘Can I tell you something in confidence? I’ve never told a soul before, but now that he’s dead, there’s no harm in telling you. Keep it to yourself, though. You know his wife died, don’t you?’

‘Yes, Valentina told me her mum had a heart attack when she was a teenager.’

Umberto shook his head. ‘It wasn’t a heart attack.’ He stopped and corrected himself. ‘Well, strictly speaking, she did die because her heart stopped, but the reason for it was because she took an overdose.’

‘She took her own life?’ I had a feeling I knew the answer to my next question, but I asked it anyway. ‘Why did she do that?’

This time, I couldn’t miss the bitter expression on his face. ‘Why do you think? She was sick and tired of her husband’s philandering. She swallowed a bottleful of pills, and they stopped her heart.’

‘But surely there must have been an inquest, an autopsy?’

A more cynical expression appeared on his face. ‘No autopsy. Money changed hands, and it was all hushed up. My brother couldn’t stand the thought of the bad publicity. The only people who knew the truth were him, the doctor, the housekeeper at the time, and me.’ His tone became more bitter. ‘As I say, money changed hands. He bought the three of us off, including the doctor.’ He glanced around, but nobody was within earshot. ‘How do you think I manage to drive a Mercedes and buy jewellery for my wife? I have a good job, but I don’t makethat kind of money. Ever since that time, Bartolomeo has been paying me a monthly allowance. I suppose that will stop now.’ For the first time, I heard regret in his voice at his brother’s death. ‘There’s no way I’m going to tell Orlando or Valentina about it. The past is the past, and that’s that.’ He reached out and caught hold of my forearm in a surprisingly strong grip. ‘I’m telling you this in confidence, right?’

I nodded and returned to his opening remark. ‘Yes, I promise I’ll respect your confidence, but tell me, why did you say you felt relieved to hear that the police have dismissed it as an accident?’

He released his grip on my arm and produced a wry smile. ‘Because if they were looking for a motive for murder, they wouldn’t have needed to look any further than at me. Gloria told me she’d spoken to you about what happened on Monday night. You’re a detective, you could see that an awful lot of men would have taken the law into their own hands after something like that. Not me, I’m not made like that, but I wouldn’t have liked to have to prove my innocence in a court of law.’

‘So you’re telling me that he slipped and fell. You didn’t push him.’

‘Don’t think I wasn’t tempted but, no, as I say, that’s not the way I’m made. I don’t know whether Bartolomeo slipped or was pushed but, if our roles had been reversed, I’m quite sure my brother would have had no qualms about pushing me off the rock. Somehow, he was born without any moral fibre at all. Sometimes, I wonder if we had different fathers…’ His voice tailed off and he gave me a fraternal pat on the shoulder before going into the lounge and heading for his wife.

I stood there, reflecting on what he had told me, wondering whether I could believe him or not. The simple fact was that there were so many people here with motive for murder and Umberto, just like the others, could of course be an even more talented actor than Oscar.

21

WEDNESDAY EVENING

After talking to Umberto, I went over to Orlando and Valentina and took them to one side.

‘You’ve heard what the Carabinieri have said but, with your blessing, I’d like to stay on tomorrow to complete the commitment that I made to your father – and for which I’ve already been paid. Ultimately, it could be that the police are right, and it really was a tragic accident, but I would like to stay another twenty-four hours to be absolutely sure. It’s your call. If you want me to drop it, Anna and I can be out of here in the morning, as soon as the track is clear enough. As I say, you two are in control now. I’m happy to take my orders from you.’

Brother and sister exchanged looks, and I was pleased to see Orlando answer for both of them. ‘Thank you, Dan, we would like that. Tell me something – all along, I’ve had the impression that you haven’t been happy with the idea of it being an accident. Do you have any specific lines of inquiry that you want to follow up?’

That was a good question. The simple fact was that there were probably half a dozen people here for whom I had been able to identify at least some kind of motive, and the two youngpeople I was talking to were among them. I chose my words carefully.

‘My mother always says that I was born suspicious. That’s probably what got me into the police in the first place, and it’s certainly why I became a detective. Over the years, various superior officers rammed it into me that I should never ever take anything at face value. Appearances can be deceptive – or manipulated. There are a couple of people here that I’d like to speak to and, ideally, I’d like to see if I can climb up onto that boulder to check out the scene of the accident or the crime for myself. I promise I’ll report back to you the moment I find anything significant.’ I gave a helpless shrug of the shoulders. ‘Whether I do find anything remains to be seen.’

I gave them both an encouraging smile, persuaded Oscar to stop nuzzling Valentina, and set off to look for William. I searched all the rooms on the ground floor without success before heading upstairs. I knocked on all the doors up there but again drew a blank. When Oscar and I came back down to the lounge again, I suddenly realised that William wasn’t the only absentee. The rug in front of the fireplace was empty. I went through to the kitchen just in case, but there was no sign of Winston the dog there either. I was standing in the kitchen, wondering if this might have something to do with William’s disappearance, when Marina appeared. I queried it with her, and she nodded.

‘Winston and William often go for walks together. To be honest, I think William got on better with the dog than he did with Signor Bartolomeo.’

‘Have you any idea what time he went out?’

She glanced at her watch and frowned. ‘That’s strange. It’s half-past six now, and I’m sure he went out just as it was getting dark. Are you sure he hasn’t come back?’

‘There’s no sign of him or the dog. That means he’s been out for an hour and a half. Is that normal for him? It seems like a long time for a walk, especially in the dark.’

Marina was looking seriously concerned now. ‘That certainly isn’t normal.’ She crossed herself superstitiously. ‘God forbid that something’s happened to him as well.’

‘You’d better go and tell Paolo or Orlando. I’ll take Oscar now and start looking for him. Any idea which direction he might have gone in?’

Marina shook her head helplessly, and I thought hard. Valentina and I had been walking up the main track as night had fallen, and we hadn’t spotted William, so he must have gone off in another direction. I made a quick decision. ‘Tell them I’ll head off towards the stream and the waterfall. Could you let me have one of the walkie-talkies and give one to Paolo?’

Armed with a little radio, I set off along the track that Valentina had shown me on Monday evening. It was still snowing, but only lightly now and it was quite easy to make out the track even beneath a covering of snow. There were several sets of footprints in the snow and what were unmistakably the paw prints of Winston. I glanced down at Oscar, who was trotting happily at my side.

‘Can you find Winston? Where’s your friend Winston?’