Page 25 of Murder at Christmas

I shook my head. ‘No, the would-be miners.’ The puzzled expression on his face intensified, and I explained. ‘Valentina told me that two Americans turned up on Friday, asking yourfather if they could buy the mineral rights to reopen the old mine. You didn’t know about that? Your father didn’t mention it?’

His sour expression from the previous day returned. ‘He never told me anything. That was the main problem I had with him. He kept everything to himself and he was physically incapable of delegating. He would tell me to do stuff and then, when I reported back at the end of the day, nine times out of ten, it would turn out that he’d already done it himself. No, he didn’t say a thing about American miners. What were they looking for? As I understand it, the old iron mine was closed down because it was unprofitable. How were they going to generate a profit from it?’

‘That’s what Valentina said, too. So you really didn’t know anything about that?’

He shook his head. ‘It’s all news to me, but I bet I know what my father told them: the same thing he told Giorgio Gallo – no chance.’

‘Exactly. Apparently, he sent them packing, even though it would probably have brought him a lot of money, like the Alpine resort project. Presumably, he had so much money that he could afford to turn away this kind of thing.’ I was curious to see how Orlando would react to this after his comment to his father on Monday night that had seemed to indicate that the company might be in financial trouble. The expression on his face now changed to one of frustration and annoyance.

‘Can I tell you something in confidence – and I mean strictly between the two of us, not to anybody, not even the Carabinieri?’ This was a strange request, but it sounded potentially fascinating, so I nodded, and he continued. ‘The company’s going through a rough patch, but it’s not because we’re facing a lot of competition. It’s always been a competitivebusiness, but we’ve been haemorrhaging money recently, and things are getting tricky as far as cash flow’s concerned.’

‘When you say haemorrhaging money, in what way? Was your father overspending?’

Orlando nodded. ‘But that’s only part of it. Yes, he’s been taking helicopter rides and private jets – and they don’t come cheap – but, more seriously, it looks as though we’ve been losing money by other means as well.’ Seeing the inquisitive look on my face, he lowered his voice and continued. ‘It appears that somebody’s been syphoning money out of the company.’

‘You mean embezzlement?’ He nodded again, and I went on. ‘How could that be possible? Surely that kind of thing would need authorisation at the highest level?’

‘You would think so, wouldn’t you? That’s why my father invited Calogero Naselli along this week. He’s Head of Accounts and he lives and breathes figures. I thought the plan was for us to sit down and go through the books line by line, checking to see how much has gone missing and who might have been involved.’ His bitter expression returned. ‘The meeting was all set for yesterday morning after the Zoom call with Selena’s agent. I was the one who alerted my father to a number of anomalies in the accounting over the past few months, and yet I wasn’t invited to attend. I was excluded from the meeting.’ His expression became more belligerent. ‘What was I supposed to think? Did he believe I was somehow involved? Whatever he thought, it’s clear he didn’t trust me. Maybe that’ll help you understand why relations between me and him haven’t been so great lately.’

That certainly did – assuming Orlando was telling the truth. If he was correct in his suspicions, this introduced another possible motive for murder. Might somebody have murdered Bartolomeo to prevent him from finding out that they had been stealing from the company? Might this have even been Calogero Naselli, the Head of Accounts, or Bartolomeo’s former partner,now represented here by his widow? Or could it have been William? Orlando had said that money had been disappearing over the past few months, and William had joined the company three months ago.

The plot was thickening.

16

WEDNESDAY MORNING

The first thing I did when I got back to my room was to send a message to Paul in London. Inspector Paul Wilson and I worked together for many years when I was at Scotland Yard, and we are good friends. From time to time, he’s been able to help me when I have a query about somebody with a UK background, and I felt sure he wouldn’t mind if I asked him if he could run a check on a William Rogers, age about thirty, allegedly a graduate of Cambridge University and a former staffer for a member of parliament. I wondered what this might throw up.

When I went into the breakfast room, I found Anna with Selena on one table while Calogero and Cinzia Naselli occupied another on the opposite side of the room. Although Calogero appeared to have recovered from the shock of yesterday afternoon, his wife still looked pale and troubled by what had happened to Bartolomeo. I helped myself to a couple of croissants and sat down alongside Anna. Seconds later, Marina appeared, and I asked her for a cappuccino. She seemed to have bounced back after the shock of yesterday and she managed to produce a hint of a smile for Oscar. I was relieved for her.After she had gone off, I asked Selena how yesterday morning’s negotiations had gone.

‘Are you going to be the new face of Aquila Sports? Am I allowed to ask or is it a state secret?’

She shrugged. ‘It’s a good question. Yesterday, I had already decided to say no but, in light of Bartolomeo’s death, I might rethink things.’

‘Can I ask why you decided to say no yesterday?’

‘I’ve just been telling Anna. I’ve only been here since Sunday, but it very quickly emerged that the real reason Bartolomeo had invited me wasn’t so much in order to get me to work for them, but so he could add me to his list of conquests.’ She shook her head slowly. ‘He was unable to keep his hands to himself, but luckily, I’d been warned what to expect. One of my girlfriends had a bad experience with him, so I’ve been very much on my guard, but even so, he started pawing me on Monday and it was getting me down. If I had signed the contract yesterday, I knew that it would mean meeting with him regularly and, sooner rather than later, I would have ended up giving him a slap.’ She gave me a little smile. ‘Not really the best way to cement a good working relationship.’

I nodded. ‘I get that. I noticed that he couldn’t keep his hands off Anna on Monday night either. Even his daughter knows that he was a womaniser. Anyway, now that he’s no longer in the frame, are you considering signing on the dotted line after all?’

‘I might. It all depends who takes over. I like Orlando and I feel I could work with him, but I’m not so sure about Ingrid. If she’s the one giving the orders, I think I’ll pass. Life’s too short for that kind of hassle.’

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cinzia Naselli jump to her feet and head for the door. She was holding a handkerchief to her face, and I wondered if she had started crying again. I assumed that this was just delayed shock, but might she havebeen fonder of her husband’s boss than I would have expected? I registered this information and watched her leave the room. This seemed like an excellent opportunity for me to have a few words with her husband with nobody listening in. I excused myself to Anna and Selena, walked over to Calogero’s table, and addressed him in Italian.

‘Signor Naselli, would you mind if I join you for a few minutes?’ He looked surprised, but didn’t object, and I sat down in the seat recently relinquished by his wife and pulled out my notebook and pencil. ‘As you may know, I’m a private investigator and I was brought here by Bartolomeo Viviani because he was concerned for his personal safety after the death of his business partner a few weeks ago. I warned him that I wasn’t a bodyguard, but his death came as a real shock to me and, although the police are now on the case, I feel it’s my duty to dig down as closely as possible to help them find out exactly what happened to him and why.’

He nodded his head a couple of times. ‘I quite understand, Signor Armstrong. I’m more than happy to help in any way if I can.’ He sounded sincere enough.

‘Thank you for your cooperation. It’s my understanding that the company has been having financial problems – apparently, money has been disappearing without explanation. Could you confirm if that’s correct?’

As I asked my question, an expression of surprise or more appeared on his face, and he answered sharply. ‘Who told you that? That is highly sensitive information.’

Orlando had told me about the disappearing money in confidence, so I avoided naming him, taking refuge in obfuscation. ‘I had a confidential talk with Signor Viviani in his study on Monday evening.’ I let Calogero draw his own conclusions so, technically, I wasn’t telling a lie. ‘That’s correct about money going astray, isn’t it, Signor Naselli?’

He shifted uneasily in his seat before finally giving a nod of the head. ‘Yes, it would appear to be correct, but I say again, this is a very sensitive topic. If word were to get out that the company is having financial problems – however temporary – it could have a catastrophic effect. You do understand that, don’t you? I need your word that you won’t divulge this information to anybody, not even the police or Carabinieri.’

This was the same thing that Orlando had said and, although I nodded my head, I was puzzled. ‘I promise you that anything you tell me will be in the strictest confidence between you and me, but why don’t you want this information to be passed on to the Carabinieri?’