Page 19 of Palazzo
“That’s not a lot, but it’s better than nothing,” he said, which irritated her. He didn’t sound upset about the fire at all. “With the sale, you can collect the insurance, and let the buyers do their own repairs, and we can keep the insurance money.” He had it all figured out. He had an angle for every situation, for personal profit.
“If the Johnsons do the repairs, they’ll deduct it from the purchase price,” she informed him sensibly.
“They’re rich. They can afford the repairs,” he said smugly. She felt sick listening to him. His greed knew no limits.
“You may have to come back here if they want to interview you too. They told me I can’t leave Venice until they’re through.”
“Tell them I’m busy,” he said lazily. “I’m not coming back for that. They can talk to you.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“What do you want me to do? Shovel out the burnt furniture? You can hire people to do that.”
Cosima hung up a minute later. As usual, Luca was no help. She called the Johnsons that afternoon too, and they were shocked. Theyimmediately confirmed that they still wanted to buy the palazzo, no matter how damaged it was. They loved it, and they said the décor had only been temporary while they rented it. They had much more elaborate plans for after they bought it. And they were going to redo the wiring, the floors, and the moldings anyway. Cosima didn’t mention it, but she was sure they would want a reduction of what they were going to pay now that the house was damaged. And they were willing to undertake the repairs, which would save her the trouble and the expense. They said they wanted their workmen to do it, and their architect to oversee it.
Olivier and Cosima had done all they could, for now anyway, until the insurance appraisers came to see it for themselves. And Cosima and Olivier had taken a lot of pictures with their phones. They went back to her hotel, and Olivier took her to Harry’s Bar for dinner that night, which was one of her favorite restaurants in Venice. He was staying at the same hotel she was, so he could be near her, and he told her he had canceled his meetings in Florence the next day. He was a steady, solid, reliable person, not showy or exciting, but someone she could count on. She liked how calm and reassuring he was.
They went for a walk after dinner, and she never got lost in the maze of little narrow streets, it was her second home and all of it familiar to her. Then they went back to the hotel and went to their rooms. She was up early again the next day, and the police called her and asked her to come in again that morning. When she told Olivier, he offered to accompany her again.
The detective in charge was even less pleasant than he had been the day before, and after another hour of questioning, he informed her that she was under investigation for insurance fraud, and thepossibility that she had hired someone to set the fire so she could collect the insurance. What the detective said sounded just like the scheme Luca had described to her, for the insurance money. She was shocked when he told her, and Olivier saw her go pale. He tried to reason with the detective and explained that she owned two of the most important stores in Italy, and was an honest, respectable citizen. The detective wasn’t impressed. And she told him that the house was currently about to be sold.
“Insurance fraud is a very profitable business. People make millions at it if they can pull it off. And there’s no question that the fire was due to arson. We have the evidence,” the chief of police told her. Cosima didn’t say anything, but she called Gian Battista as soon as she left the police station, and she told him what was happening. Olivier was with her when she called, but he could only hear her half of the conversation. He understood enough Italian to get the gist.
“I’ll make some calls,” Gian Battista said immediately. “I know two very strong judges in Venice, and the police chief. I hate to ask, but where is your brother?”
“In Saint-Tropez, with friends.”
“You don’t suppose he had anything to do with it, do you?” She thought about it for a minute and shook her head.
“No, I don’t. He’s not that crazy. And why would he?”
“Money, of course, this kind of thing is right up his alley. I hesitate to say it, but I wouldn’t put it past him.”
“Gian Battista, that’s a major crime. He’s a jerk, but he wouldn’t do that. He could go to prison for it. He’s not a fool.”
“Let’s hope not. But let’s see if I can get you off the hook at least.” Gian Battista sounded concerned for her.
Allegra had decided to go home to Rome by then. It was no fun being in Sardinia without her sister, and it didn’t look like Cosima would be coming back anytime soon. Allegra called Cosima and said she wanted to relinquish their rental and go back to Rome that afternoon.
“I’m sorry I’m stuck here,” Cosima apologized to her, but by late that afternoon, the police called Cosima and told her she was free to leave. Gian Battista had worked some magic, and they said they would contact her in Rome if they needed to. They said nothing else. The investigation into the arson had only just begun, and the insurers were doing their own, independent of the police.
—
“What’s happening?” Max asked Luca in a whisper after he hung up from talking to his sister. They were in Saint-Tropez together, staying with Max’s friends. Max had been with him since Venice.
“Nothing. They figured out that it’s arson, and they’re investigating my sister for insurance fraud. That’s pretty funny. It’ll do her good to be on the hot seat for a change,” Luca said harshly. He wasn’t concerned.
—
The police weren’t naive, and they sent detectives out to various quarters of Venice, to see what they heard about Luca Saverio. They checked the casinos, and discovered that Luca was well known at the Ca’ Vendramin Calergi and had been there on Friday night. The casino management said he was a high-stakes gambler, and he had been there with a friend. They vaguely remembered that his friend was French, but not much more about him.
It wasn’t a long jump from that to Luca’s chronic gambling debts and his two-hundred-thousand-euro loss two months before, and the police rapidly put together a portrait of a rich boy who was frequently in financial trouble, although he didn’t have a criminal record. But he had a dicey reputation as a bad guy, and a heavy drinker and gambler.
The police went back to the house to investigate further, and found cigarette butts in the rubble, and a silver flask near where the oil-soaked rags had been found, with Luca’s initials clearly engraved. LAS, Luca Alberto Saverio. It was incriminating evidence. They called the police in Saint-Tropez and had them pick Luca up for questioning. The Venetian police checked the flask for fingerprints. There were two sets, and they made due note of both and emailed them to the police in Saint-Tropez. Cosima had been fingerprinted too.
Cosima called Gian Battista again after they told her she could go home to Rome. She thanked him and asked him what he thought was happening. He had been making calls to officials he knew to find out.
“They’re trying to build a case for insurance fraud. I just hope your brother had no part in this. If he did, and they prosecute him, he’ll go to prison. The insurance companies don’t take this lightly, and neither do the police.”
