She reached over and gave my hand a squeeze. ‘Thanks, Dan, you’re a sweetie, and of course I’ll tell her the full story.’ She released her grip on my hand and sat back, the forlorn expression back on her face again. ‘I thought I was doing the right thing, getting everybody together and giving them a chance to hear my side of the story and hopefully, allowing them to apologise for what they did. Looking back on that decision now, I realise that it was naïve, to say the least. I should have known that tempers would run high but, even in my wildest nightmares, I never thought anybody would resort to murder.’
‘If, indeed, it was murder. Let’s see what the inspector tells us first.’
18
SUNDAY MORNING
It was eight-fifteen, and I’d just finished my breakfast when my phone bleeped to tell me that I’d received a text from Inspector Trevisan. It wasn’t a long message.
Definitely murder. Victim was poisoned. Please inform the others that I’ll be coming over soon to interview everybody. I have an interpreter booked, but she won’t be here until late morning. If you could help out, I’d be grateful. Thanks. Giulia.
For the sake of doing things by the book, I replied immediately.
No problem, but are you sure you want me to help? Now that it’s certain it was murder, I suppose I’m a suspect as well. Given that there are some very important people here, you’re no doubt being scrutinised by your superiors. I wouldn’t want to do anything that makes life difficult for you.
Her answer came back after less than one minute.
Thanks, Dan, but I already thought of that and passed your name up the line. Would you believe the questore himself has spoken to his opposite number in Florence, and you’ve been given a glowing reference. All help gratefully received.
I glanced down at Oscar. ‘It’s not what you know, it’s who you know.’
He was far more interested in the end of a croissant that I had given him, but he did at least wag his tail.
The only other guests sitting out under the pergola this morning were Greg Gupta and Carlos Rodriguez on one table, and Dirk Foster, all on his own at another. I swallowed the last of my coffee and went over to break the news to them that Lucy had been murdered. Gupta looked appalled, but Rodriguez just stared down into his coffee cup and gave no sign of even having heard what I’d said. When I went across to Foster, he, on the other hand, visibly paled when I gave him the news. If he was acting, he deserved every single award he’d ever won. He looked up at me with an expression of unbridled horror on his face.
‘Murdered? She really was murdered? But how…?’
I decided to let the inspector answer this one when she got here, so I just shrugged my shoulders. ‘At this stage, I’m afraid I don’t know. Maybe drugs?’
‘Surely not. We flew over from the States together and she told me she’d had a hiccup – that’s what she called it – and she’d gone back on the drugs again for a few weeks, but that she was back off them again now. She sounded really committed this time.’
‘This time? Had you spoken to her about this sort of thing before?’
He took his time before replying. ‘Lucy and I had a thing together some years back. All right, so she’s… she was a whole lot younger than me, but I really thought we might have had something. She’d been doing drugs before she met me, but I got her to stop, and she was doing really well before things fell apart between us.’
‘Can I ask why things fell apart?’
Again, I had to wait for his answer, but when it finally arrived, it didn’t really come as a major surprise. ‘I screwed up. I was in London filming a movie with Carlos and I ended up in the wrong bed.’ He looked up at me with what could have been genuine anguish in his eyes. ‘What’s wrong with me? I had this great girl back in the US and yet I still couldn’t say no to some random woman I met at a party.’ He hung his head. ‘It’s been the story of my life. I find somebody good and I screw it up. Thank God the media didn’t get hold of it, but the news got back to Lucy all the same, and that was that. The relationship was over, and within days, she was back on the drugs again.’ He reached out and caught hold of my arm. ‘I screwed up her life and mine, and now she’s dead. But who would want to kill her? She was so sweet…’ His voice tailed off and I left him to his coffee and his regrets.
I found Alice in her study and I passed on the message from the inspector. I studied her face closely as the news that Lucy really had been murdered sank in. I saw her reach for a tissue but, before she could raise it to her face, tears of real grief came running down her cheeks. However good an actor she might have been, I couldn’t see how these might be anything but signs of genuine sorrow. I sat quietly with her for a couple of minutes while Oscar at her side did his best to provide her with some much-needed support. Finally, she blew her nose and looked across the desk at me, her eyes still damp and bloodshot.
‘Lucy’s dead, and it’s my fault. I was being selfish. I thought this weekend would be a good way of getting some kind of closure for me, but all it’s done is to get a poor unfortunatecreature killed. I don’t know about you, Dan, but there’s no doubt in my mind that the murderer’s target was me. It should have been me lying there, not Lucy.’ A lone tear rolled from one eye, and she dabbed at it with her tissue. ‘How could I have been so stupid?’
‘You weren’t to know how extreme the reaction was going to be. Now, if you want to help Lucy, you need to concentrate on helping me and the police find out who did this.’
She nodded, and I decided the time was right to ask a few questions of my own before the police got here. ‘When I was reading through your book last night, I found references to many of your guests this weekend, but I couldn’t see any mention of Greg Gupta or Wilfred Baker. Were they just invited to fill out the cast of your murder mystery, or did they have a role in your past as well?’
She looked up from Oscar. ‘Greg, no. He and Carlos are a couple, so where Carlos goes, he goes. I don’t know what Greg sees in him. Greg’s a nice guy, but Carlos is a pain in the ass.’
I gave her a gentle prompt. ‘A pain in the ass who figures in your past, according to what I read last night. He said some uncomplimentary things about you, didn’t he?’
She shrugged her shoulders. ‘Like I say, he’s an ass, but he’s a dangerous ass.’
My ears pricked up. ‘When you say “dangerous”?’
‘Dangerous to my career. Louie, my agent, told me I’d been picked for the starring role in a movie, but then Carlos got chosen to direct it and he talked the producers out of casting me.’ She looked across the desk at me and shook her head. ‘That’s what I mean when I say he’s dangerous to my career.’
‘But what would make him turn down a megastar like you?’
