Into the Killer Sphere (3 page)

Signora Testi suddenly changed topic, talking about the main news of the umpteenth murder in the villas. She would always jump from one topic to another, which those who knew her were used to and didn’t mind. Chase, though, spent a minute trying to work out how those two topics could be related. He soon gave up and paid attention to their discussion so as to not lose the thread of the conversation.

“Police aren't ruling out homicide, I heard it on the radio. I tell you, this is not the Tursenia I knew and loved twenty years ago. It’s a nightmare, nowadays. You can’t even stay safe in your house because you’ll die in some robbery or God knows what else. I tell you, I’m afraid,” Paoletta said.

“What a tragedy! That kid is an orphan now, she only has her grandma… How will she carry on?” cried Marcella, showing the typical and sincere character of hers that made her so successful with every customer.

“Oh,
cara
Marcella, I guess she’ll be fine. She went through much worse, you know, because of her… issues. If she doesn’t die prematurely like the rest of her family. Anyway, Piero Galli was not exactly a nice man, especially since his wife died. Besides, Marcella, I don’t think the daughter is going to have money issues,” Paoletta replied.

“Why, are they rich?” Chase asked. The villa had looked like a very fancy and expensive house, but it was better for him to act as if he didn't know anything about the Gallis. The fewer people who knew about his cooperation with Angelo, the fewer problems they could cause. He knew his father was always trying to keep tabs on what his son was doing, and had plenty of connections at home and abroad to supply his info. He was the Paoletta Testi of the whole of London and beyond: in one way or another, Sergeant Nigel Williams could generally get any information he wanted. This ability of his was why Chase tended to avoid police stations – all police stations.

“Oh, of course they are rich,
caro mio!
They
come from a wealthy family, thanks to Piero’s mother. She has always known how to manage people… and money.” Signora Testi shook her salt-and-pepper bobbed hair and smirked. As usual, she enjoyed sharing her knowledge about Tursenian society.

“You have to be trained on the subject,
mio caro
. I'll tell you what happened to the Gallis before you got here,” Paoletta said to Chase. “Piero’s wife died of a heart attack ten years ago. People used to say that she was too stressed by her daughter’s situation; she’d got into bad company hanging around the town centre. Some said she was pretending to be in trouble in order to be the centre of attention, others that she was an alcoholic or a drug addict. I’d go for the last one,” Paoletta specified.

She went on to tell Chase that after Marta’s death, Piero fell into a deep depression and closed himself off. He began leading a solitary life with his dogs, not caring about anyone. She reported how people also said that Agata Galli, Piero’s mother, was a Fascist spy during World War II, but changed her stance shortly before the Partisans began their assault, and helped them to take possession of Tursenia. Then she gained a small fortune, thanks to her powerful contacts and some good investments, and later her husband joined the Masonry. That was thanks to her social position, but women could not be members. Agata’s husband died in the summer of 1981 from a stroke.

“I was told that their grandchildren - she has one granddaughter from Piero and three grandchildren from Marco, her younger son - are mean and selfish, and can't wait for their grandma to die so they can get her inheritance as well, but it’s such a cliché.” Marcella commented at the end of Paoletta’s report, while sorting out stuff in the “Great offers” box at the entrance of the store.

“Yes, it is. But in every rumour there’s also a bit of truth,” Paoletta replied, then turned to Chase. “You’d better watch out,” she said to him, clearing her throat and changing topic again. “I think someone informed the traffic wardens about your car insurance. I can’t figure why, though. You’re such a nice guy.”

After saying this, she made her farewells and went to call the cats with her usual whistle to feed them.

Chase looked at Marcella for some explanation of her behaviour, but Marcella simply shrugged.

“Don’t know what she meant,” she placidly commented.

Chapter 3

“I’ll brief you quickly: we’re going to meet Agata Duranti - that was her maiden name, then she became Galli,” Angelo said to Chase before entering the villa’s living room.

“First you gotta tell me why we’re here again,” Chase complained. “We were here one hour ago. You dropped me at home and then you picked me up again half an hour later… Mate, what the hell?”

Angelo shook his head and put a hand on Chase’s shoulder, patting it.

“You still have to get used to Italians. You think I like going to and fro in Tursenia because the old lady has finally woken up and agreed to talk to us?”

Even if Chase got Angelo’s sarcasm, it didn’t make any difference to him. Angelo had asked for her as soon as they had got to the villa earlier that morning, but Ramona had told them she was resting as she was too upset by events and needed to lie down for a while. She was quite old after all, and her heart might have given out.

Chase made a face of displeasure which didn’t stop Angelo from completing his briefing.

“Anyway, Signora
Galli is in her eighties. We need to go carefully.”

“
Prego,
have a seat,” Agata began as soon as they entered.

She attempted to make them welcome in the severe and dark living room with a coffee and some biscuits served by Ramona. She lightly put a hand on Chase’s shoulder, inviting him to sit next to her. Chase knew that old ladies and mothers always liked him at first sight; unfortunately he didn't have the same effect on their daughters and granddaughters.

Agata’s face was lined with the signs of an eventful life. Her pure white hair was done up in a fine, old fashioned bun. There was something about her that Chase didn’t like. Maybe it was just a hunch, as he’d heard she used to be a spy, and spies were professional liars. And he didn’t like liars.

Agata told the police she had been at home the evening her son died. She had been upstairs finishing a book when, by chance, she had heard some noises coming from the library.

“The thunderstorm outside had been very loud and had mostly drowned out every other sound,” she commented.

She called Piero several times to find out what was going on, but he hadn’t replied.

“When I got to the library I found Piero lying on the floor and the smashed chandelier next to him,” she said, showing no emotions, like she had prepared her script. “In the meantime, Rachele and her fiancé had arrived. They helped me, since I fainted at the sight of my dead son. I couldn’t believe my eyes.”

Agata’s eyes were small and prying, and Angelo suffered under their scrutiny. Usually he was the one that made others feel uneasy. On one hand, her calm while describing the facts and her fainting episode was disconcertingly weird. On the other hand, Chase thought, rich, “aristocratic” people tended to not show their feelings, whatever their nature. Appearances meant everything for them, as they had to keep their composure and protect their family honour.

“Signora Agata, we know that you’re quite a wealthy lady. Do you think Piero’s death could be connected with that in any way? I mean, maybe someone knew about that and tried to rob you?” Angelo asked.

“Yes, I’ve put a few euros aside,” she nodded. “But please, gentlemen, don't look at me that way: I’m old but not stupid. They would have taken something valuable if it was a real robbery. We need to face the truth.”

Agata crossed the room towards Chase, hindering Ramona who was serving the coffees.

“I know that my grandchildren have their eyes on my money. They go to great lengths to pretend to be nice and affectionate towards me. But the only thing they care about is that their lovely grandma Agata won’t forget them on her deathbed.”

“Don’t say that, Signora! Your grandchildren truly love you, I’m sure!” exclaimed Ramona, unable to contain herself.

The old lady thundered back.

“Ramona, how many times have I told you not to butt in while I’m talking to guests? Go away, you miserable girl!”

The maid looked down mortified and left the room apologising, while Angelo and Chase watched the whole exchange in silence, glancing at each other. Chase had seen these scenes (and even worse) in downmarket superstores, but would never have imagined that a refined lady such as Agatha Galli could have washed her dirty laundry in public like this. Or worse, in front of the police.

Angelo kept stirring the sugar in his cup, trying to not make any noise.

As soon as Ramona was far enough away from the living room, Signora Galli’s mood flipped again and she calmly explained herself.

“She’s such a lovely girl, you know, but she’s so ingenuous! She’s the only one who really cares about my health and I’m so grateful to her. You know, I hired her because one of the ladies I know was trying to find a job for her. Ramona comes from a very poor and uneducated family, she’s terrified of animals and can’t ride a bike or swim. She’d never seen the sea until she came here to Italy, can you believe it? I’m teaching her everything, including how to do the housework, interact socially, and not to bother about some kinds of people. At the same time, though, she should learn to bite her tongue sometimes. That’s why I’m so tough with her from time to time, it’s for her own good.”

Angelo gently tapped the teaspoon on the edge of his cup so that the coffee drops clinging to the inside fell back down to the bottom. Then he got the conversation back on track before the old woman began to ramble on again.

“I see, that’s very considerate of you. Now, Signora Galli, you told Inspector Mecci that you believe your son was killed, didn’t you?”

Agata straightened up in her chair and subtly lifted up her chin.

“I knew someone finally would believe me. That’s why you two came here, isn’t it? Oh, thank God.” She actually sounded quite annoyed. Angelo stole a quick glance at Chase, which meant, “
I really don’t know what she’s talking about
.”

“I don’t
believe
it, Inspector. I’m
sure
of it,” Agata proclaimed, relieved to let her suspicions out. Her scraggy, wrinkled hands covered with little scratches made two tight fists.

“And why are you so sure, Signora?” Angelo probed.

“Here’s the thing. You can’t think of my grandchildren as being normal people of their age. They’re mean. They grew up in rich surroundings, where they got everything they wanted. My granddaughter Rachele is the worst of the lot. And concerning the other three grandchildren, they are so selfish that they only show up when they need a favour or it’s Christmas. They’re the exact opposite of their kind mother; it’s too bad. But Rachele is the evil one. She has been up to all sorts of things in her life, and after her mother died she soon became sick and tired of her father’s illness, until she couldn’t stand it anymore and so she killed him.”

“Rachele is Piero’s daughter?” Chase stepped in, and the lady nodded. “Do you have any proof of what you are saying?”

Agata seemed so certain of her accusation, she surely had some evidence. That was Sherlock Holmes’ second lesson. The first one concerned deduction, and so far she was managing that quite badly.

“I don’t know how she did it. Maybe some of her junkie friends helped her by setting it up to look like some kind of failed robbery attempt. I shouldn’t wonder if I were completely right: Rachele has already killed her mother by breaking her heart, and I don't see why she would just stop there.”

Things were getting extremely interesting for Chase. The old lady believed that there was a horrible serial killer at large, in the person of her granddaughter, but she had no hard evidence.

“Are you convinced enough to testify against her in a trial? Presuming that we find evidence that proves Rachele killed her beloved father, of course,” Chase told her.

This innocent attitude had worked with the wimp of a maid so why shouldn’t it work with Agata as well?

“Beloved father? Please. No one in this house likes that girl, and it’s mutual. She’s recently been trying to behave nicely, looking regretful, but she used to put us through the mill. I know she murdered my son because she’s stupid enough to talk about Piero’s depression in my house, on the phone, complaining to her obliging boyfriend,” she scornfully laughed. “I’m old but my hearing is quite good, and when my ears can’t reach, there are Ramona’s. A person who talks about their father in this way is a murderer-to-be. Trust a Second World War Partisan.”

It was clear that the chatty, rancorous Signora Galli knew what she was on about, and it didn't take long before Angelo and Chase found confirmation of her words. Agata got up and checked outside the room, to be sure that no one was nearby. Then she got closer to the two of them, leaning her elbows on the table.

“My grandchildren may fool you but they won’t fool me. I’m going to punish their greed by changing my will. I want to give all my money to my loyal Ramona. She deserves it. She’s so young and nice, and has a baby in Romania. Too bad I won’t see their vulture-like faces once I’m six feet under!”