Shadows of the Past (21 page)

‘I find it rather offensive that you would think that,’ she answered at last, pleased to hear how cool her voice had become.

‘Yes, Commisario, and so do I,’ Luca had that cold authority in his voice. The commisario looked at him, a veiled look, but she could see that he had some problem with dealing with an aristocrat. That he was not impressed and intended that they knew that. So he has his own agenda, she thought, well that is nothing to us. It does not matter why the man killed Antonio, just that he did. And as to why Antonio killed Rosa, there was no need for anyone to know that.

‘I want these people caught but not at the expense of making the contessa ill. I think this is enough for today. I think that it was Antonio who arranged to have her kidnapped; he must have wanted money, only it went wrong. I employed the wrong man!’

The commisario shrugged. ‘It can happen. However, it is better we do it now,’ he said, ‘if you want these people caught.’

‘We don’t know who they are!’ Luca said, exasperated.

‘We can check who Perseli spent his time with. He has no record. How long did he work for you?’

‘Seven years. I needed an assistant. He came from Firenze and he was recommended’ — Luca hesitated — ‘he was recommended by Rosa d’Casta.’

‘Ah, you see!’ The commisario said, ‘you see we are getting somewhere. Everything is starting to fit into place.’

Alva was a little surprised; she had thought Antonio was long-established. That was the impression he gave and she never questioned that he had not been with the conte for longer than seven years.

When the commisario had gone she went to her room, telling Luca she going for a long soak in the bath. Her bones still ached and he understood and accepted it. She needed time to think. Desperately, she needed more time alone to go over things. Try to sort out the muddle of the past.

The water smelt heavenly of orange blossom. She lay in the bubbles, eyes closed, head resting against the cool porcelain of the tub.

Antonio, she never liked him, never took to him, something about him had her hackles rising the moment she saw him. Yet how could she tell Luca how she felt? It was a woman thing, she had nothing on him to explain her feelings.

She was, she supposed, weighing him and watching him more than she should. She had noticed he spent a lot of time in the old building adjacent to the indoor pool.

Sometimes, when she could not sleep she would go on the balcony and gaze out. Now and again she had seen lights on the beach, a yacht in the bay. Of course it was holidaymakers. The beach was private but they probably moored and then swam out and had a party. She was not the type to go and remonstrate over something like that — it wasn’t important. It was not as if it were hordes of people doing it.

Perhaps she had been seen. Often she had walked down to the beach. Luca, when she was pregnant, would not let her ride, and anyway, she had started to feel so ill she did not want to. But she knew that exercise would help her.

That was when she had gone down the stairs at the fort, curious, a little bored, and braver than she was now. The door had been partly open. She had pushed it and heard rushing footsteps.

Fearful, she had run back up the stairs, gone into the dunes and then looked back. Antonio had been there, with another man that she did not recognize. They were checking watches and looking out towards the horizon. Sure enough, around the headland a yacht had come into view. It had moored in its usual place but it was not night, it was daylight.

There was a glint of something on the yacht. Somewhere a phone had started to ring … she had put her hand in her pocket and then realized she had not brought her phone with her … and anyway the sound was too far away.

Instinct had made her throw herself down in the dip of the dune. Antonio was talking on the mobile phone. He had whirled around, looking, searching the shore. She had ducked down her head, and then slid her body down the sand. When she reached the bottom she started to run, tripping and falling through the sand as she did.

When she had arrived back at the palazzo she collided with Luca who had been coming from the disused building. He had lost his temper, asking her what she thought she was doing running like a mad woman, her clothing and her hair covered in sand.

‘Oh stop it!’ she had cried, and had wrenched herself away from him. ‘I don’t even want to think about you!’

Whatever was going on he had to be involved. It was not innocent, she was certain of it.

From then on she had started to feel worse. Every day had brought another wretched round of sickness and lassitude. Now she saw the reason why. Even then, she had never suspected it was being done on purpose, and yet she knew that the person on the yacht had seen her. That was what the phone call had to have been about.

And she had thought Luca was involved. Did she think that now? Remember, she said to herself, try to remember if I always thought that or was it just then? Was that why I did not say anything to him, because I was always certain he was involved?

There was only one way to find out. She left the tub and dried herself, going to the closet to look for a casual tracksuit to slip into. If she confronted him — but what was she saying, confronted him? There was no need to do that because he loved her and whatever had gone on then, had to be over now. But what if … what if … I love this man and there is something sinister about him? No, she was being stupid, as usual, to think so.

Luca had been angry with her at that time. No, not angry, impatient. He had told her to do things that would make her better but she had ignored him. He had lost patience frequently. Of course she had not known that Renata was also whispering in his ear. Going to her father and telling him that his wife had a crush on Antonio. She was doing it because Antonio had ordered her to do it, just as he had ordered her not to co-operate in anyway with her stepmother. The girl confessed it all. Knowing what she did now about Silvia, she could understand how these lies must have made Luca feel. Here was another woman he could not entirely trust.

Luca came in quietly and seemed surprised she was not in bed. ‘I thought you would rest. I needed to shower and change. Somehow I feel filthy after all that downstairs.’

‘Me too … I’m not sleepy though. I relaxed in the tub.’

‘Alva, is there something you are not telling me?’

The question surprised her, her mouth opened making an ‘o’ shape, showing that perhaps she had something to be guilty about.

‘I don’t think so.’

‘You know you can tell me anything … ’

‘All right. But Luca … it isn’t entirely clear in my head. Only it’s to do with when I was first here. There seemed to be a lot of coming and going, a boat would come; there would be lights at the beach. Antonio always seemed to be in the building next to the indoor pool. I watched him, I suspected him of something but I don’t know what.’

He looked genuinely amazed; he raised his hands, palms upwards and asked. ‘Why didn’t you say?
Per Dio
, what do you think was going on? Did you imagine I was involved in something?’

‘I don’t know, maybe … I can’t remember the details.’

‘But what could it be, do you think he was smuggling something … people?’

‘People? But where could he hide people? I imagine it was something much smaller.’

‘Not drugs? What a vivid imagination you have, Alva.’

Alva looked at him, her head to one side. He seemed so cold, and then he went on.

‘I was so busy at that time. We were developing the port, if you remember, and I was also modernizing many of the homes of my workers on the other side of the island. It was a major project; there was a lot of coming and going. I can’t think he would be doing that behind my back. But of course it could be possible, I suppose.’

‘It could be that. Oh Luca, I wish I had told you. I felt so ill — you seemed so distant … everything was going wrong and I just didn’t want to … ’

‘You did not know that I was not involved. It’s all right, Alva, how could you know such a thing? That you would be married to the man who owned Santa Caterina and people were doing things behind his back. That he was too stupid to realize what was happening. That could be it … but I do doubt it, Alva.’

‘Do you know what I think, Luca, I think you were just too trusting. You’re straightforward with people and expect the same from others. I know you treat everyone very well, that people respect and love you … you were really the perfect person to deceive because if anyone, and I include me, even suspected you were involved in something like that, no one would have told on you.’ She went to him and gave him a deep hug.

‘Do you think that Rosa was involved too?’ he asked quietly. ‘Was her murder because of a falling out amongst thieves?’

She hesitated. But she could not do that, could not betray Renata. It was not the girl’s fault that she was not his daughter. Alva, not knowing what to do, merely raised her shoulders.

He released her and went into the bathroom. He paused and asked her to order dinner. If she liked they could eat it here, out on the balcony in the peace of the warm night. Something in his attitude gave the strong impression that he did not want to talk about it, not now and not ever.

*

Later after they had eaten they sat quietly, sipping their wine and looking out over the beautiful landscape. The sea was a mass of scarlet ribbons from the burning embers of the departing sun. Drifting in on a soft breeze was the scent of a million flowers, intermingling and exotic.

‘There is something else I have to tell you,’ Luca said. ‘I want to share this with you, and only you, you understand. It goes no further?’

‘Of course. You know I can keep a secret.’

‘Yes, I do know,’ he smiled. ‘Renata is not my natural daughter.’

She gasped, the gasp sounded so loud in the still evening air, that he looked at her curiously. ‘
Cara
, did I shock you that much? I’m sorry … ’

‘How do you know?’ she demanded intensely.

‘I’ve known for years. Easy really, Renata was ill at one time and she needed blood. Mine was not deemed suitable. A child will have the same blood as its father. Later I had another check done. DNA. It was hurtful, at first, but then I realized it did not matter. You see, Renata was my daughter in practically every sense of the word. I am not a man that would reject a child because she was not from my body.’

‘Oh, Luca … I have to come to you,’ she left her seat and slipped behind his chair, embracing him deeply. ‘You see each confession you make draws a confession from me. I was not honest with the commisario. Luca, I do know why Antonio killed Rosa.’

Later, when she had explained, he murmured, ‘And you would keep quiet because of Renata and because of me?’

‘Exactly.’

‘Do you think it will make a lot of difference if we don’t tell him?’

‘No. What purpose would it serve as to why he killed her? He’s dead, we know he did it,’ Alva said.

‘But whoever the other man is in this, he knows too? How many other people know about Silvia’s secret? Silvia was a very indiscreet woman, in more ways than one,’ Luca recalled.

‘It’s too much to share with Renata just now, anyway. If it comes out, well then we should deal with it. I think Renata has too much to contend with.’

‘I agree.’

She slid on to his lap, and he held her lightly to him. ‘I knew that very first day, when we spoke on the telephone. I felt you would be so special in my life and then I went and almost lost it.’

‘I was horrid,’ she said, ‘I know that now. I can see me being so waspish, so unco-operative, yet it wasn’t my fault. He must have been putting something in my food. Damn the man, he made that special time of Alessandro growing in me so unhappy and then he does that … ’ She shivered. ‘It’s funny but I can’t think that I even remembered exactly what happened afterwards. When I was in the hospital and everyone was fussing, for a time I thought I had tripped and fallen. Perhaps it was the fall that first started my memory’s erosion and the car accident just made it worse. There’s so much I still don’t know. I can’t even remember what I was doing in London after I left Santa Caterina. I recall I went to live outside the city. Someone had asked me to do some research, but I was really in no fit state to do it. I couldn’t cope and I left. Then I went to London but why, I can’t say, it won’t come … do you think someone lured me there? Was it Antonio and his friends?’

‘I don’t know and you must not force yourself to think too much. Everything has been going so fast for you. You have had these devastating things happen to you …
Cara
, you now have to let go of it all for your own sake.’

‘I will … but it’s hard to do that — these things keep flashing in and out of my mind. Still, as long as I have you then I am afraid of nothing and no one … ’

CHAPTER TWELVE

The kindest thing that Renata said was, ‘I did not want to dislike you. I thought you looked nice but it was difficult. I needed to please Antonio.’

‘Don’t worry about it now.’

They were sitting in the car. Renata had agreed to go into the clinic voluntarily. Guido had gone to find someone to arrange for her room and to take up her bags. She had asked that Alva go with her and had said her goodbyes to her father at the palazzo.

‘I didn’t want to share Papa with anyone either. I had been used to it just being us.’

‘None of it matters anymore, Renata, it just matters that you get better.’

‘I know. You did it, Alva. Do you think I can do it too? Can I come out of this … this feeling … this misery … ?’

Her eyes were wide and dark and filled with a kind of fear that Alva recognized.

‘It’s a dark lonely place, Renata, but there is light. I promise you that you can come out the other side. Just accept their help; they do know what they are doing, even if sometimes you hate them for it.’

‘You ran away … ’

‘I know. I wish I hadn’t but when your father, in an attempt to help me, said I had thrown myself down the stairs, I could not stand even to think of him.’

‘I really believed him when he said he had seen you do it.’

Alva knew she was talking about Perseli; Renata never used his name any more. That had to be a positive.

‘I know you did, Renata. You would not have lied about something like that. Not when it was your half-brother involved.’

‘You think not?’ Her mouth turned down. ‘I hated the idea of having a half-brother, Alva. It was another competitor for my father’s affection.’

‘Here’s Guido. You will be all right, Renata. Call me, talk to me, anytime.’

‘You’re very forgiving, Alva. I doubt I could be like that, but thank you.’

*

They went back to Santa Caterina using the public car ferry. Alva felt safe with Guido, safer with him really than anyone. Carlo was still her bodyguard but now that Guido was around more, she found she liked him. He had a good sense of humour and a warm heart. He talked to her and told her about his girlfriend and his hopes for his future. Carlo was quieter these days, more reflective. She felt she needed to be with someone who could make her laugh and she told her husband so.

‘I am going to promote him so enjoy him while you can. I have a feeling that Guido has more to offer than just being a chauffeur-handyman. He is intelligent and he is from the island, too. He knows how things are done here.’

She did enjoy having Guido around, preferring him to accompany her on her ride and to drive her to the port, or take her across on the launch. Besides, being from the island, he had a lot of local knowledge and she determined to learn as much as possible so that she too could help her husband with the management of the island.

The day after Renata left was a perfect day, very warm and sunny. Dressing in a one-piece bathing suit, she tied a sarong to her waist and added a thin shirt for going through the house, then went down and out to the pool.

After putting her things on a sun-lounger she dived into the pool and swam several laps. Someone had been from the house while she was swimming; there was a coffee pot on the table and the umbrella had been opened over a lounger. Grateful, she slid on to the lounger, slipped her sunglasses on, and then poured coffee.

I am a little happy
, she thought.
No I am very happy
.
My husband and I are in love, the darkness is in the past
. If Antonio’s murderer had wanted to kill her, he would have done it when he had the chance. Even the commisario agreed on that point.

It was Antonio who had wanted her out of the way, Antonio who must have feared that she would remember everything and reveal what he was doing. Content, she fell asleep. She came to drowsily, hearing someone addressing her.

‘Mm,’ she murmured, her eyes still closed.

‘Contessa, the conte is on the telephone. He will be late home. Apparently, one of his tenants has just died and — ’
The voice
! Alarm bells rang; she felt herself shiver. Her eyes flickered open. Carlo stood at her side. Glad that the sunglasses hid her eyes, she murmured. ‘Thank you, Carlo; I’ll come into the house in a moment. Did you take the number?’

‘I think he was on his mobile phone, Contessa.’

‘Oh, of course. Thank you, Carlo.’

Cool
, she thought,
be cool, stay where you are, and do not move. Your legs will tremble if you stand
. Glancing up, she saw him turn and go back towards the house.

Carlo? Carlo, whom she trusted. It could not have been him on the beach, yet the voice — concentrating on the voice and not the man, she recognized it. That slight accent. He was not a Florentine. He had lived in Florence but he was not from there, she remembered him saying. But then again so had Antonio, and Rosa d’Casta was from Florence. It all made sense — like a jigsaw, each little piece was falling into place.

The man on the boat — he, too, was from somewhere different from here. She had thought Istria or Switzerland but now when she came to think of it, his accent was not so different from Carlo’s. Oh, God, had Carlo taken over from Antonio? Was there really some kind of smuggling operation and was it still going on? Of course, it would once things died down. It would start up all over again because there was so much money involved. And it was a perfect place.

Taking her time, ignoring the heavy thud of her heart, she gathered her things together and strolled back into the house. Going via the loggia she only felt safe when she slid into the sun lounge. Now in the confines of the house she knew she could rush, but she didn’t. Holding herself back, first she went into the kitchen. Claudia announced that Guido was with the conte. There was no man, apart from Carlo, in the house. There were the gardeners but on this vast estate they could be anywhere.

She went to her bedroom, searching for her mobile phone. It wasn’t where she usually kept it and then she remembered it had to be in her handbag. The last time she had had it with her was when she had gone to the port only yesterday. One of the designer shops had opened for the summer and she was anxious to see what kind of things they would be selling.

Her hand started to tremble. She rested it on the bed for a moment, clasping and unclasping the silken sheet. She looked at the phone by her bedside but was afraid to use it because someone would be able to hear what she said should they pick up an extension.

All her handbags were on a shelf in the walk-in closet. It was an effort to cross the room, pull open the door and pull down the navy leather bag she had had yesterday. Snapping open the clasp she looked inside. Her phone was not there. Damn, where had she left it?

Her head started to throb; those flickering images whirled up, flashing before her eyes, things that had happened, the jumble that she could never somehow put in order. Crossing back to the bed she climbed on it and lay down. There was no reason to panic. Carlo did not know that she had recognized his voice. She was quite safe.

Carlo had not killed her on the beach. But, a little voice piped up, he had not rescued her either, he could not have cared what happened to her, just so long as he could get on with whatever he had been doing. He was a killer — he had killed once that she knew of, and he would not hesitate to kill her if he realized she had recognized him. Raising herself up, she was suddenly overcome with the feeling that she was on a merry-go-round. Her head was spinning, weakly, she sank back and closed her eyes but that made her feel nauseous. A faint tapping on the outer door had her leaping from the bed. Claudia never knocked so she knew it was not her.

It was him! He called her name. ‘Contessa, are you there?’

Wildly looking around, she realized she could not hide. The bed was too close to the ground for her to dive under it, the closet was obvious. The balcony, well that was dangerous — how easy it would be for her to fall off …

The passage. Tip-toeing at speed, she crossed the room, pressed the switch and as the panel gave way, nimbly stepped inside. Remembering to pull the lever to close the panel, she slid to her knees, her ear against the door.

It was dark, yet she could hear. He had opened the door and was in her room. She prayed that he did not know about the passage. The spinning of her head started to steady; closing her eyes, she felt the nausea but it was not as bad as it had been when she had lain down.

Her first thought was that there had been something in the coffee but now she was not sure. It had to be the hyperactivity of her mind that caused it.

She listened to Carlo on the other side of the panel; he was going through her room, opening drawers, going into the closet. What was he looking for? He could not know that she had recognized him. It was not that — but then, what was it?

Something was crawling on her bare leg. She jumped, running a hand along the flesh, it was small, an insect of some kind, perhaps a spider — she could not see in the dark. She brushed it off, curling up her toes with distaste.

A door closed. The door to her room, he had gone. Not trusting him, she slowly pulled herself up, then, hands braced against the walls on either side of her, she felt her way along the passageway.

A hard object knocked up against her hand, touching it, she felt its rounded rim and in the middle was a small pointed button. Breath held, she pressed it; dull light, temporarily making her eyes scorch, illuminated the passageway. She could see that she had travelled some way from her room but if she went on, with the light now on, dim as it was, she would see if there was a lever. Moving more rapidly now, it nevertheless took some time for her to locate a lever. She pulled it and a panel slid back. Stepping into the opening she saw it was her own room. She had gone round in circles. Realizing she had to have been in the dark longer than she imagined, she quickly stepped inside her room and closed the panel.

Going to the door, she opened it. The corridor was deserted; quietly she stepped out, running as silently as she could along the landing, and when she reached it, into Luca’s room.

He used it very little nowadays, preferring to spend the evenings and night with her. He had shown her the safe, though. One night he had taken her to his room and shown her where her jewellery was kept so if she wanted a particular piece, she knew where it was. That is what he had said, her jewellery, as if it were some kind of confirmation that everything was all right now. However, she had seen something else in the safe. A small gun.

Recalling the combination more easily than her past life, she clicked open the safe. The small gun was there. She took it in her hand, as she had done that night with Luca, and he had shown her how to check for ammunition and how to remove the safety catch.

‘I don’t like this,’ she had said, putting it back with relief.

‘I don’t either, but after all that has been going on I’m glad I have it.’

There was nowhere for her to hide the gun. Still wearing the flimsy sarong and top, it was impossible to put it anywhere but in her hand. But there was a place closer than her room where she could find something to wear.

She and Renata were similar in size; going to her stepdaughter’s room, she went in and directly to the closet. Pulling out a pair of jeans and a shirt, she slipped out of her clothes and put these on. The gun slipped into the back pocket of the jeans and the long loose blouse hid the bulk of it.

Once downstairs she headed for the kitchen. That would be the safest place to be, there would be servants as well as Claudia, safety in numbers, but when she reached the kitchen only one person was there. It was Carlo.

‘Contessa, I have been looking for you.’

‘Really?’

She feigned surprise, casually tucking her hair behind her ears.

‘Yes, the conte rang again; he wants me to take you to him.’

‘He does? I need to call him first.’

‘He said his battery is low on his phone. It will be all right, Contessa, you know that, don’t you?’

‘Yes, I do. It’s just that we had an arrangement. I am never to go anywhere without I speak to him, you do understand?’

‘But Contessa, that was when someone was out to harm you and that threat has gone.’

‘I’m not sure it has. I don’t want to be awkward, Carlo.

‘You don’t trust me? Your bodyguard?’

‘It isn’t that. It’s just that the conte was specific, he said — ’

‘
Sí
, I know that, you said. But I could not find you; I came to look for you … where were you by the way?’

‘That’s none of your business, Carlo. Where is Claudia, where are the servants?’

‘I imagine they are taking their rest. It is that time, is it not?’ He checked his watch. ‘Between two and five they are free to do as they wish.’

‘Yes, but someone always stays around just in case.’

‘That person is me, Contessa.’

‘OK, I buy that … ’ Casually, she slid her arm behind her back, resting her palms flat against her pockets.

‘Then we shall go to the conte,’ he said.