“Of course,” she said. “Don’t you?”
“You’re a better cop than most of the guys I work with,” he said, realizing it was true. “What did you think about Lake? Could he have murdered Claire?”
“I wasn’t exactly there to challenge his story,” Nikki said. “I’m notpart of the investigation anymore. It was awkward enough to get invited in for drinks after I yelled at his wife. I presume Sonia and Emilio checked his alibi, though. What makes you think Jayston is a suspect?”
“He knew her,” he said. “Maybe he was having an affair with her, like his wife suspected. Maybe she told him she was pregnant. Maybe she threatened to tell the wife. Most murders are committed by someone close to the victim—look at the boyfriend or husband first, I say.”
“True,” Nikki agreed. “But if he wanted Claire dead, why do it publicly…and so brutally? Wouldn’t it make sense to wait until they’re out to sea…and oops—she vanishes overboard? No witnesses. Just an accident. Good way to hide a pregnancy, if she was pregnant.”
“You’ve got a point there,” Valerio acknowledged. “What about the wife? Could she have done it? Although, I suppose she’d have the same opportunity as the husband. If she’d wanted to kill the nanny, she’d do it at sea, too.”
“It was such a high-risk attack,” Nikki noted. “That’s what surprises me. Why do it there? Public place and plenty of witnesses. And a stabbing death is messy. Too many opportunities to leave evidence. It just doesn’t make sense to me that anyone from the yacht would take that risk when they had better options.”
“You don’t take that kind of risk unless you’re desperate or insane,” said Valerio.
Nikki was about to answer when a voice behind Valerio said, “Nina? Nina Serafino, is that you?”
Only when he swiveled around to look did Valerio notice how much he’d had to drink. The world seemed to track unsteadily. He was suddenly wobbly and a little sick. He swallowed to keep everything in place.
The speaker was a handsome, well-built man—a little older than Valerio and much fitter. His features were even and attractive and, much to Valerio’s envy, he’d managed to keep all his hair. A thick mane of salt-and-pepper locks were combed in waves away from his face. He wore a long wool coat.
Nikki gave him a puzzled look. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”
“It’s been…years,” he answered. “More than a decade, now I think about it. You wouldn’t remember me. I was friends with your brother…Adriano. We worked together.”
Nikki, usually so quick, seemed to struggle for words. She looked momentarily stricken. In the pause that followed, Valerio stuck out his hand.
“Valerio Alfieri,” he said. The man took it.
“Sandro Balestrieri.”
If he’d been thinking clearly, Valerio felt sure he could sort through two conflicting opinions about the situation. His first feeling was annoyance with the intrusion. He’d been enjoying Nikki’s conversation and didn’t feel particularly inclined to share her with someone else. But this feeling contended with a powerful curiosity. Nikki was a deeply private person. What he knew about her personal and family history he’d patched together from the scraps she’d somehow forgotten to tuck away. He’d heard the name Adriano only once—as the beloved brother she’d lost years ago. Police records said that Adriano Serafino had died of a gunshot wound in November 2006 during a spate of Camorra-related violence. Twenty-year-old Nikki’s statement was in the record, the only witness to the shooting.
“Pull up a seat, Sandro,” said Valerio, indicating the spare stool. “Join us.”
“Oh, I really shouldn’t,” he protested. “I’m just passing through. It’s so strange to see you, Nina. It must be fate. As chance would have it, I think I saw your father earlier today.”
“A Peroni for Sandro, here,” Valerio called out to Graziella, who nodded.
“I think…I do remember you,” Nikki said haltingly. She seemed to be regaining her composure. “Of course. Sandro! I remember you used to come by for dinner. You and Adriano went to school together, didn’t you? Carabinieri Officers’ College?”
“Yes!” Sandro exclaimed. “That’s right. Then we worked together in the same unit until…he passed. The last time I saw you was at Adriano’s funeral. How have you been?”
“I’m doing really well!” She said the words in an eerily chipper voice, without apparent irony. “Are you still in the service?”
“Yes.” He made a slight gesture as Graziella brought out the Peroni. “I’m really sorry. I need to get home. Please give my greetings to your father. I’m sorry I didn’t say hello to him in person.”
“Of course,” said Nikki. Rising to her feet, she didn’t flinch or pull back as Sandro reached down to embrace her.
“Good to see you,” he said. “Just wonderful to see you again.”
—
The conversation didn’t recover after that. Nikki seemed distracted and, after a few minutes, took out some bills and laid them on the barrel.
“I’ll call it a night,” she said.
It was only after she’d disappeared around a corner that Valerio remembered they hadn’t signed the insurance paperwork.
