Into the Killer Sphere (4 page)

She sneered, and while doing it all the wrinkles on her face tensed, then relaxed back. A white lock of hair by her ear escaped from the bun. Probably it was trying to run away from that nasty scenario, as Chase wanted to do.

“Does anyone know about this decision?” Chase’s Italian sounded very poor this time, even to him, but he guessed the lady got the idea anyway.

“Just one of my sons, no one else,” she replied.

“I assume it was Piero,” Angelo concluded.

If the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, it wouldn’t be easy for Signora Galli to keep this secret with only the son who lived with her.

It was too late to go to the park for a run, so Chase went for a brief walk in the neighbourhood. Outside the Walls it seemed that the city came to an abrupt end, with some open fields where drug addicts and dealers met each other for business. But after a short distance he came across the city again. Tursenia is an odd city: you think you have reached its edge because of the countryside surrounding its outskirts, but actually you’re still in the city.

Chase took a while to figure this out: what he thought was the city limits was actually a green belt that divided Tursenia into different areas. There were sectors with blocks of flats, or villas, or paved but put-holed streets. It’s like there were different towns inside the real, unique Tursenia.

While going along the Walls, Chase began mulling over Galli’s murder. Ruling out a crime of passion, and some sort of unplanned violent act such as a vicious robbery (since nothing was missing from the house), the motive for the murder could have been some kind of revenge, or connected to Signora Galli’s will. Then there was Signora Galli herself. Considering that her alibi was unconfirmed, might she have killed her own son? Blackmail was not to be ruled out either. Maybe Piero was blackmailing his mother for some reason, so she decided to shut him up for good.

Assuming that Agata was not the murderer, however, who could have taken advantage of her changing her will?

“
Too easy,”
Chase thought.

Even if Ramona looked as innocent as a lamb and felt guilty because of the chandelier falling, she was the only one who could really benefit from this death. She knew everything about the villa, and even if she wasn’t much good as a maid, Signora Galli still kept her on due to some kind of emotional bond. So, Ramona was probably taking advantage of that. You could learn lots of things from a former spy, such as lying and being falsely supportive, for example.

Or perhaps Piero might have talked or argued with someone who knew about the will who then killed him so as to have no witnesses. Then why didn't whoever it was kill Agata instead?

And what about Rachele? Was she involved in the murder? Wasn’t it too much of a coincidence that she and her fiancé just popped up when the dead body was still warm? And if it was true that Piero didn’t die because of the accident with the chandelier, then there was still a weapon around to be found.

Turning into the street on the left, while entering the Walls, Chase saw a shadow out of the corner of his eye, loitering close to the cars parked outside them. That bald head lit up by the feeble streetlamps was Signor Buongiorno’s, one of Chase’s neighbours. Chase had never met a nosey bald-head like him before. Signor Buongiorno had been shacked up for forty-six years with a redhead with poorly dyed, curly hair named Cecilia, and they were an incredible couple of unpleasant meddlers. He was peering inside the cars, one by one. That caught Chase’s attention, but for now he went on his own way home. He was too busy thinking about the murder to be bothered by it.

Chapter
4

The following morning Chase’s legs brought him to Galli’s villa again. He decided on a long walk through the countryside, instead of waiting for his busy Inspector friend and his terrible driving. The weather was still unstable and the
Tramontana
wind kept blowing, cold and strong. Anyway, he was wearing a thick scarf and took an umbrella with him, like a real Londoner.

While walking quickly along the verge, paying attention to the darting cars, Chase thought that maybe he should have gone out for walks instead of running. This would have saved both his ankles, and his pride in front of that woman.

He could also have got a dog as company, like Piero Galli did.
But maybe his landlord wouldn’t have been happy to host another fleabag in the building
, since the two girls living upstairs already had a little yelping freak named Luciano.

In the blink of an eye,
being immersed in his thoughts,
Chase reached Galli’s place.
He hesitated while ringing the intercom, since he knew he wasn’t behaving discreetly as he’d promised his friend he would. It was another lie, another thing, like the one which had hurt his mother and let down his brother, Scott. Another thing which made his father even more infuriated with him.

Furthermore, Chase hated the way Angelo had dragged him into his investigations, but neither could he resist a murder call anymore, nor leave a friend in a pickle.

Since he had been in Tursenia he had confined himself to only sharing his opinion with Angelo about a few crimes and issues his friend couldn’t solve by himself, and that had always happened sitting around a table and tasting some good traditional Tursenian wine. But this time it was different: Chase was smelling the pungent solvent used by forensics in the library, just like when he was working at Scotland Yard. Some officers were taking inventory of all the stuff there and observing him with a suspicious eye. Chase greeted them with a nod. They replied to him with a mumbled “
Ciao
”.

For a moment he felt such a knot in his chest, a mixture of anger and sadness, but then Angelo’s voice, shouting something to one of the other officers at the entrance, brought him back to reality. He saw that Marco Galli, Piero’s brother, was looking around the room. He was a tall, podgy man with little eyes very close together, high cheekbones and round, pink cheeks.

The photos on the main desk of the library, all depicting Piero with his dogs, seemed to be looking at Chase. Piero Galli was a man marked by time and depression, although he had a sincere smile while hugging his creatures. His beard was almost completely black, like his hair, which was weird for a sixty-nine year old. Probably black hair dye was fashionable in Tursenia, and it made Chase think of Marcella’s black hair. In the pictures Piero always wore camouflage or hunting clothes and a pair of muddy black boots.

His brother, Marco, stared around looking very upset. The traces of smears of blood on the mantelpiece were still clearly visible. Chase noted that there were still some shards of glass under the cupboard, although the room had been cleaned as much as possible. Marco’s hands were clenched, while his springy walk revealed a certain agitation.

“Were you fond of your brother, Signor Galli?” Chase had entered the room in silence, so the man gave a start. His chubby cheeks reddened.

“You gave me quite a turn!” Marco gasped, then recomposed himself. “Poor Piero, he wasn’t an easy man to understand, but he surely didn’t deserve to die. Who will take care of his dogs? They were everything to him. I mean, his daughter can get by on her own… and my mother too, of course. No one cares about the dogs, too bad.”

The man fell silent for a moment, holding back the tears.

“I think I’m going to take them on. I owe it to Piero.”

“You have kids too?” Chase inquired. He knew from Signora Testi that he had three children but he asked anyway, to make conversation. Chase didn’t want to interrogate Marco, as Mecci and Angelo had already done that. He wanted only to have a chat with him to figure what he was doing there in a police-restricted area, probably without permission.

“Two daughters and one son.” Marco sighed. “Kids are the real joy of life, but how many sacrifices you have to make for them. My poor brother knew that only too well! We want them all to graduate with high grades, and stay away from drugs, alcohol and trouble. They cost us a fortune, and my wife and I have had to give up so many things to be able to afford to keep our children happy. You know, because of the economic crisis and everything. Sometimes I’m afraid my wife isn’t suited to this kind of selfless lifestyle, but every day I hope to be wrong.
I don't want my kids to become like that silly Romanian maid
.”

While the man was surreptitiously drying a tear, caressing Piero’s picture with his big fingers, a figure popped in through from the east French door, wiping her feet on the doormat placed on the doorstep. She wore old trousers, thin work gloves, a sturdy green raincoat, a pair of gardening boots and a yellow apron which matched her wide-brimmed hat.

“
Why do you need a hat like that when there’s no sun?
” Chase wondered to himself.

“There’s always a way to avoid making sacrifices, my dear,” the lady said. She seemed quite comfortable with her outworn clothes, even if they clashed with the refined make-up and the jewellery she showed off. She was middle-aged, tall for a woman, with dark hair down to her shoulders, a slight double chin and a watchful gaze. “And by the way, who are you, may I ask?” She turned to Chase and got straight to the point.

“Yes, I need to ask that too. Are you some kind of foreign specialist sent to figure my brother’s death out?” Marco Galli joined in.

Chase held his breath for a second: who the hell was he supposed to be?

“He’s with us, no worries.” Angelo barged into the room, saving Chase. “Chase, this is Gloria Rolli, Marco’s wife. I imagine you have already met Piero’s brother.” Angelo politely gestured at Gloria’s outfit and the dibber she was holding which was still dirty with soil. “As you can see, Signora Gloria is an incurable gardening enthusiast who is not supposed to be here.”

Angelo’s tone of voice was severe as he was trying to get them away from the crime scene without upsetting them any more than they already were.

“
Sì
, she takes care of the villa’s garden as well as ours. She is a natural, like Piero with the dogs.” Marco Galli justified his wife’s presence with pride.

“Ok, but you shouldn’t be here,” Angelo told them. “Who let you come in? Maybe one of those lazybones officers out there? Don’t you see that the area is still cordoned off by the police? And you are here for… gardening? Really? Everybody out, please!”

Angelo made them leave the library, checking to see if they had left any footprints inside the room.

“I noticed you didn’t scold
her
about contaminating the crime scene,” Chase quibbled with Angelo. He was still smarting from his near-blunder the day before. Angelo, however, couldn’t
fight fire with fire because his phone rang.

Gloria, in the hallway, took advantage of the moment to straighten some paintings that were a little lopsided, probably as a result of someone bumping them in the chaos following the discovery of Piero’s body. There was also a little bathroom along the hallway, which Gloria dashed in to check if everything was all right.

Marco, in order not to be the only one doing nothing, involved Chase in a gripping report of the movements and actions of himself and his family the night of his brother’s accident.

Chase barely heard what Galli was saying about the moment when he and his wife received Rachele's bad news, as his attention was dragged away by Angelo. Chase knew by now that Italians were not able to speak without gesticulating, but Angelo's gestures and exclamations were far too dramatic not to be noticed.

Marco seemed pretty annoyed at Chase’s lack of attention, so Chase managed to focus back on him.

“We were waiting for Rachele and her fiancé for dinner. They should have been at the house by nine. You know, it was my son’s eighteenth birthday and we wanted to celebrate together in peace, without any family feuds.”

“I spent the whole afternoon setting up the dinner,” Gloria added, waving her arms around. Chase could easily have been hypnotised by her rattling bracelets.

“It was supposed to be a surprise for our son. It was hard to keep him and his sisters upstairs all evening,” Marco explained.

“Yep, I can imagine the surprise they did get was the worst ever.” Chase was cut short because Angelo hurried over to them, thus allowing Chase to escape the awkward moment created by his last sentence.

“Do you mind if I steal him for a minute?” Angelo asked the Gallis, leading Chase into the library again.

Matteo Cangi was on Angelo’s phone. Matteo was a workaholic young forensic scientist in the Tursenian police department.

“What’s up mate?” Chase joked.

“Good news. The chandelier was cut by something quite sharp and resistant, it’s official. Moreover, Matteo found a wood splinter in Galli’s head. It was plunged well down into his skull. That’s how he died. Do you know what that means?” He compulsively kept striding around the room where the forensic team was still working.

“The chandelier has nothing to do with Piero’s death. It’s not the murder weapon. That must be clear to everyone now, mustn’t it?”

Basically, they were back to square one.