‘Well, what did you think of the ex-wife?’
‘There was certainly no love lost between her and her ex-husband, but I’m not sure I see her as a killer. Angel was unfaithful to her, but they divorced four years ago as a result. I can’t really see why she would have let her anger fester for four years before doing something about it. Yes, he owed her money, but that’s hardly a reason to kill him, particularly if she was about to drag him through the courts. It’ll be interesting to see Angel’s will, in case he left her something despite the divorce. If his death means that she stood to inherit millions, then suddenly that would be a pretty strong motive for murder.’
Virgilio nodded in agreement. ‘And the boyfriend? Might it be significant that he’s in the same regiment as the victim?’
‘It’s certainly worth checking. Looking at him, I would think he’s not much older than Tricia, my daughter, so that would make him in his early thirties. Tristan Angel left the Guards thirteen years ago, so the man would only have been twenty or so before Angel left. I think it’s unlikely that Simon Frost would have had time to develop a lasting hatred for Angel and, even if he did, why wait thirteen years to kill him? Anything’s possible, particularly because he’s a soldier and he must be familiar with weapons, but I’m struggling to find a motive for murder for either of them. Unless Angel’s will throws up something new, I’mkeeping them on my list of suspects for now, but I still tend to think it’s somebody at the villa. My money would have been on Donald Hicks, but now that he’s dead I’m sure it has to have been one of the others.’
Virgilio nodded in agreement. ‘My feelings exactly, but there’s also the question of where Angel went and what he did between nine and ten yesterday morning. Did he meet somebody? Might that somebody have followed him to the duomo and killed him? Was he meeting somebody completely different at the duomo? And why did he go into the confessional? God knows…’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I need to get back up to the villa. I seem to be managing pretty well with English this morning. If you’ve got something you need to do, and you prefer to stay down here and go back to your office, then that’s fine with me.’
I gave him a little grin. ‘And leave a murder investigation? No, as long as I’m not in the way, I’m more than happy to go back up to the villa with you and see what happens. Apart from anything else, my van’s up there.’
At that moment, his phone started ringing. It wasn’t a long call but, as it turned out, it affected me. This time, it was his turn to grin. ‘I’m glad you just said you’re happy to be involved, because one of your compatriots has just turned up. It’s a Mr Nelson from the British embassy in Rome. Feel like having a chat to him?’
12
WEDNESDAY MORNING
I was in for a surprise when I walked into the magnificent large lounge at Villa Botticelli, and Mr Nelson from the British embassy looked even more surprised. As he saw me, he jumped to his feet and advanced towards me, both hands extended in greeting.
‘Well, well, well, if it isn’t you, Dan, of all people. Fancy bumping into you here after all these years!’
I recognised him immediately, although at least twenty-five years had passed since we had last met. William Nelson, known to everybody at Lewisham police station as Billy the Kid, had been my contemporary in the force, and we had worked together for quite a few years before he had joined Special Branch, and I had moved on to Scotland Yard. I hadn’t heard of him since and I wondered if his appearance here meant that he was now working for the security services. I held out my hand, and he pumped it up and down enthusiastically in both of his as I returned the greeting.
‘Hi, Billy, this place is a bit of a change from Lewisham nick.’I indicated our luxurious surroundings: the intricate-patterned marble floor, the monumental fireplace and the tapestry of horsemen in Renaissance costume on the end wall. ‘I’m glad to see you’re still working. I retired three years ago. So what are you now? Secret service?’
He grinned back at me, and it was easy to see how he’d got his nickname. Even though he was fast approaching sixty like me, he still had an amazingly youthful face. I remembered how all those years ago, he would often be asked for proof of age when trying to buy a pint of beer in a pub. In comparison, I probably look like Methuselah nowadays.
‘Me, secret service? No, I’m in the consular section at the embassy. I’m just a pen-pusher these days.’
Knowing him and the intensely ambitious streak beneath his benign exterior, I didn’t believe a word of it, but I just gave him a hint of a wink and brought the subject around to why he was here. He explained – or, at least, he gave me the official version.
‘I’ve been sent by the defence attaché to see if TXA needs any support. They’re an important exporter, and the country needs all the trading partners it can get.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Especially in the wake of Brexit.’
This didn’t come as a total shock. Business is business after all, but I couldn’t help commenting all the same. ‘As I understand it, TXA also have some other decidedly dodgier trading partners. We’ve been wondering whether maybe one of them might have been responsible for the murder of Tristan Angel.’
He caught my eye and raised an eyebrow. ‘When you say “we”, does this mean you’re involved in the investigation?’
Virgilio, who had been standing quietly alongside me, listening to the conversation, fielded the question. ‘Good morning, Mr Nelson. My name’s Commissario Virgilio Pisano, and I’mleading the investigation. Dan’s helping us, as he has done on a number of occasions in the past. He’s fluent in Italian and English, plus, with all his experience, he’s a valuable partner.’ His tone became more businesslike. ‘Dan asked an interesting question. We’ve been trying to assess whether the murder of Tristan Angel was committed by one of his close associates, or whether he might have been the victim of a foreign power or even a terrorist organisation. Do you have anything you can tell us that might help our investigation?’
Billy immediately looked more serious. ‘I’m not sure I know much that can help. What I can tell you is that he certainly wasn’t killed by us. As far as the British authorities are concerned, TXA is a bona fide trading partner with links to respectable companies like BAE Systems and others. The company has enjoyed the support of the UKDSE, the government body that seeks to promote defence exports to friendly countries around the globe. As such, there’s no question of the UK or any of our close allies wishing to harm either the company or Mr Angel.’ He paused and glanced over his shoulder, but the door was firmly closed. ‘What I can tell you, however, is that over the past year or so, we’ve begun to receive reports, not all of them substantiated, of the company also working with other, less reputable operators. I can’t name names, but it’s conceivable that Mr Angel may have made enemies, and that his death could be the direct result of that. I’m sorry I can’t help you more, but I would agree that it is something you have to consider as a possibility, maybe even more than that.’
Virgilio and I exchanged glances. If the murder in the duomo had been committed by a foreign operator, particularly if this had involved agents of a foreign government, the chances of identifying and apprehending the perpetrator looked slim. There was, however, the question of the death of Donald Hicks,which almost certainly must have been an inside job by somebody here at the villa, making Angel’s death also potentially an inside job.
I saw Virgilio shake his head slowly in frustration before addressing Billy again. ‘Thank you, Mr Nelson. Now, is there any way in which we can assist you?’
Billy shook his head. ‘No, thank you,Commissario, I just need to sit down with a gentleman called Donald Hicks, and then I’ll be out of your hair.’
I broke the news to him. ‘I’m afraid there’s been a very recent development, Billy. Hicks was found dead in his room this morning, and the pathologist has just confirmed that it was murder.’
His eyes opened a little wider. ‘Well, well, well, I wasn’t expecting that.’ I saw his eyes glance out through one of the big windows into the grounds of the villa with its imposing high walls all around. ‘Of course you guys had this place under surveillance.’ He didn’t wait for an answer. ‘So it’s looking as though Hicks’s killer must have been somebody here, rather than a foreign operator. Is that what you’re thinking?’
I nodded. ‘Exactly, and we’re seriously considering whether Tristan Angel’s murder yesterday might have been committed by the same perpetrator.’
I saw him pause before replying while he thought through the ramifications of this latest information. ‘That certainly seems like a realistic possibility. Tell me, gentlemen, who do you think is next in line for the throne?’
Virgilio answered. ‘I’ve been wondering the same thing. I would think it’s probably Vincent Archer, the head of finance, but it’s possible that Alexander Murray, the head of sales, will be the one to take over.’
‘Right, if you don’t mind waiting to speak to Archer, I’ll sit down with him first and find out if he’s in charge now. If so, heand I can discuss the company’s future and then I’ll leave you to your investigation unless, of course, I can be of any help.’
