Page 6 of Murder at Christmas

He barely glanced at her, and I felt sure I saw a shadow of annoyance flit momentarily across the woman’s face before she held out her hand towards Anna and me. ‘My name’s Cinzia.’ She spoke in Italian, so Anna replied in her own language.

‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Cinzia.’ She pointed out of the windows. ‘Isn’t this a magnificent setting?’

Cinzia Naselli didn’t have a chance to respond as our host was already on the move again, dragging Anna with him. In a very short space of time, he introduced us to a stern-faced woman named Ingrid and a nervous-looking young man namedWilliam but didn’t specify their connection with the family or the business. Finally, we came to a young woman who looked as if she would rather have been outside than inside. This, Bartolomeo announced, was his daughter, Valentina.

Valentina was probably about ten years younger than her brother, say in her early twenties, and she, of all of the people here, was definitely dressed for the Alpine conditions. She was wearing a white roll-neck beneath a dark-blue fleece, unsurprisingly sporting the Aquila eagle logo on her left breast, and tight-fitting jogging trousers. She had long blonde hair tied back in a simple ponytail, and her face was tanned.

She looked fit, healthy, and even more fed up than her brother.

Whether this was just because she longed for the great outdoors or because somebody here was getting on her nerves remained to be seen. Still, she produced smiles and a handshake for Anna and me, and a broader smile when she spotted Oscar. She dropped to her knees to pet him and a couple of seconds later was almost knocked over as Winston, the massive hound, decided to show his affection by climbing all over her. She and the two dogs ended up in a heap on the floor, but this cheered her up no end, and she was soon laughing out loud.

Having now completed the introductions, Bartolomeo finally released his grip on Anna’s arm and asked us if we would like something to drink. Although the idea of a cold beer had distinct appeal, I knew there was something more urgent that I should do.

‘That’s very kind, but I need to give Oscar a decent walk first. He’s been stuck in the van all day. Would you mind if he and I slip out and stretch our legs?’ I glanced at Anna. ‘Will you be all right on your own?’

She knew exactly what I meant and she gave me a reassuring wink. ‘I’ll be fine. I can look after myself. You go off with Oscar.’

Bartolomeo, apparently oblivious to the significance of our brief exchange, addressed his daughter, who was still having a wonderful time wrestling with the canine grizzly and Oscar on the floor. ‘Valentina, would you like to go with our guest and make sure he doesn’t get lost? And take Winston with you – he loves being outside, and I have to look after my guests here.’ He cast a decidedly predatory eye towards Anna, but Selena stepped in, taking him by the arm and leading him off – but not before she had shot me a surreptitious wink in her turn. Clearly, she had worked out what sort of man our host was.

Valentina jumped to her feet with alacrity and gave me a big smile. ‘Come on, the light’s almost gone, so we don’t have much time before it gets completely dark.’ Her smile broadened into a grin. ‘And when it gets dark around here, believe me, it gets dark.’ Her English was amazing, with a totally convincing educated British accent. If I hadn’t known, I would never have suspected that she was Italian.

I thanked her and looked down at Oscar, who was rolling about on the floor. ‘Feel like a walk, Oscar?’

That is what’s known as a rhetorical question. He was on his feet and out of the door before I had time to wave goodbye to Anna.

4

MONDAY LATE AFTERNOON

Coming from the heat of the house, it felt even colder outside, and I was glad Anna had insisted that I buy the cosy jacket. The sky was an amazing colour, not dissimilar to Gloria Viviani’s dress, and everything around us was tinted with a deep ruby-red glow, although there was still just about enough light for us to see where we were going. The two dogs headed off into the distance while Valentina walked alongside me and, as we walked, we chatted. I started by asking her about the house, and the answer was interesting.

‘My father bought it ten years ago, but it was built almost a hundred years ago by a wealthy industrialist who had a mine a bit further down the valley.’

‘Really? What sort of mine? I didn’t notice anything on the way up here.’ This explained the name of the restaurant in San Giorgio.

‘There’s nothing much to see these days, just an old cave entrance. It was an iron mine, but it was never very productive and it closed down after the end of the Second World War. Since then, most of the mine buildings have either crumbled or been buried under the regular avalanches and landslides we get inthe valley. You should walk down there with Oscar one day. It’s amazing. They’ve dug a long, sloping tunnel and it’s even got rails in there, but from outside, you wouldn’t believe there was anything inside the rough, rocky entrance. I wouldn’t go in it though, if I were you. It could be dangerous.’

‘I suppose you must know this area really well by now.’

‘Pretty well. I used to spend most of my summer holidays here when I came back from school in Kent.’

‘So that’s where you learnt such amazing English.’ I glanced across at her. ‘How did you get on at boarding school? That was pretty unusual for an Italian, wasn’t it?’

She looked back at me and even in the diminishing light, I could see the sadness on her face. ‘It was fairly grim at first, but I couldn’t complain – it was my idea.’

This came as a considerable surprise, but I didn’t press her for an explanation. I waited patiently as Oscar reappeared with a stick in his mouth – where he had found this so high above the treeline was a total mystery – and I threw it into the scrub for him to chase and retrieve, wishing I had worn a pair of gloves as the air was bitterly cold. A woolly hat would have been a good idea too. While I rubbed my hands together to restore the circulation, Valentina continued.

‘I was thirteen when my mum died of a sudden heart attack. She was British and she always spoke to me in English, even though we were living here in Italy, and she spoke super Italian. She went to that boarding school when she was growing up and she said she loved her time there. She often talked about it, so when I suddenly found myself all alone in the world, I thought it would be a sort of substitute home for me.’

It occurred to me that she would still have had her father, but I didn’t comment on that – at least not directly. ‘How did your father react to the suggestion?’

I saw her shrug. ‘To be honest, it suited him. He was building up the business at the time, and I hadn’t really seen much of him when I was growing up.’ Her expression hardened. ‘Besides, that gave him more freedom to be with all his lady friends.’

A ready response to something like this didn’t come to me, so I hastily changed the subject. ‘Tell me about the valley. From here, the cliffs to the left and right of us look impossible to climb. Is the way we came the only access?’

She nodded. ‘Realistically, yes. Some guys from the local climbing club came up here a few years back and managed to climb up alongside the waterfall, but only with the help of ropes and all their mountaineering paraphernalia. No, there’s just one way in and one way out – unless you take a helicopter like my father.’ Once again, there was distinct disapproval in her voice when she spoke about her father.

Although we had been walking for only about five or ten minutes, it was noticeably darker now and when Oscar came running towards me, his precious stick held proudly in his jaws, he was almost invisible against the dark backdrop – apart from his eyes glowing green. I threw the stick for him one last time, and he disappeared into the gloom. As I glanced back over my shoulder, the lights of the villa already seemed far away. I rubbed my frozen ears, and my hands weren’t getting any warmer either, so I made a suggestion.