The Broken Frame (2 page)

"I understand. Can you remember if there was anything, even a hint of something, unusual or unspeakable, in your father's life at the time?"

"I don’t know if there was. If so, we never noticed it. Although it may be that my father was a great actor and he tried to hide it. The rest of my memories have faded into a thick fog."

"I understand. As I said to your mother, as soon as we have something new, we will inform you immediately. For now, all I can do is thank you for your time."

"I sincerely hope you will investigate this case thoroughly, Commissioner. I want to know the cause of his death. What led my father to kill himself?”

"Don’t worry, we'll get an answer soon."

Michele Riva left the office. After a few minutes, in which time Germano added some information to his notes, his phone began to ring again.

“Germano.”

"Good morning, Commissioner, I'm the coroner who just performed the autopsy on the body of Carlo Riva."

"Tell me everything, Doctor."

"The death was caused by a pointed weapon. Specifically, the letter opener you found in the gallery. It pierced his heart through two ribs. From the angle, it seems the wound was self-inflicted. The blade followed a path from top to bottom, before reaching the heart. It’s perfectly compatible with cases of self-inflicted wounds."

“I have made notes doctor, but can you give me the report today?”

"I'll try. One last thing, if you’re interested. I noticed the penetration was very clean, both externally and internally. It’s as if the knife reached the heart very slowly."

"I guess this is all compatible with suicide."

"Yes, Commissioner. Even if Mr. Riva was perhaps not entirely convinced of what he was about to do."

"I think it's human to have doubts, Doctor."

“I think so too. Anyway, Silvestri is here, and he wants to speak to you. Wait one moment.”

“Thank you. Silvestri, what’s going on?”

"Hello Commissioner. About the letter opener we found. We isolated the fingerprints, although I have the impression they belonged to the customers of the gallery. That’s all."

“Did you find any other fingerprints in the back of the art gallery?”

“Only those of the corpse. Right now, we’re about to finish the examination of the farewell letter.”

“What have you found?”

"There’s something weird about it. We couldn't find a fingerprint on either of the two sides of the sheet.”

"How the hell did that happen? Are you sure no damage occurred while you transported the evidence?”

“It’s impossible. Nothing could have removed all of the fingerprints."

"Okay, I understand. Thank you for your fast response. Try to send me the report as soon as you can."

"I’ll do that."

"Thanks Silvestri."

––––––––

A
s soon as the call ended, Germano tried, in vain, to write something on a sheet of paper without touching it. Once he was certain of the impossibility of such an operation, he made up his mind about his next move.

First, he telephoned his colleague Parisi, and made an appointment for him to come to his office at noon. Shortly after, he picked up his coat and the keys to his car. Before the meeting with his friend and colleague, he had time for a second inspection of the art gallery.

Parisi came to Germano's office few minutes later than noon.

"May I come in?"

“You’re already in. There are a few updates in the Riva case, and we need to discuss them.”

“Is there something wrong with the autopsy?”

“Not really. Both the angle of the wound and the intensity are clear signs of suicide. However, there are some issues about the suicide note that I'm concerned about.”

“Tell me more, Vincent.”

“It’s like this. I’ve tried to write on a sheet of paper without leaving any fingerprints, and it was clearly impossible.”

"You mean Doctor Silvestri didn’t find any fingerprints on that letter?"

"Yeah, that's right. Half an hour ago, I was at the art gallery, I decided to take a second look. I have the impression there is a small detail that has escaped all of us. Or rather, one which has not received its proper consideration."

“Which is?”

"It was on the counter. The one open to the public, not the one in the back room. A frame holding a picture of Riva, along with his wife and son. All three were posing, the classic image of a happy family."

“Was on the counter? What do you mean?”

"Because I brought it back and sent it to Silvestri, after I had it photographed myself. If you look at the top corner of the frame, you can see some abrasions, the marks are quite clear. In addition, the glass underneath is chipped, which is also clearly visible."

"What do you mean, Vincent?"

"Let me explain. Would you have a frame containing a family photo, on show almost in plain view of the customers? With chipped and broken glass?"

“Probably he didn't notice it.”

“That’s hard to believe.”

“Is that what you think?”

"I have a feeling that someone deliberately damaged it. Perhaps by banging it on the counter, as if to destroy something more than just the frame."

“Perhaps it was what the picture stands for, what it means to them.”

“Exactly. I’m pretty sure this frame was intact twenty-four hours ago.”

“What do we do now?”

"For now I've put in a request for the camera footage, both inside as well as the outside film showing the sidewalk. I want to shine some light on this story. It means we'll need to investigate a little more.”

"Okay, Vincent. So we’ll talk as soon as you have the videos?"

“Yes, I’ll let you know.”

G
ermano, as usual, was pleasantly surprised at Di Girolamo's knowledge and speed in finding the CCTV recordings for him to work with. The Commissioner used the whole morning to watch and analyze the films. At the end of this session, and with considerable disbelief, he felt bound to make a formal request for an arrest warrant. He’d inform Parisi about the unexpected results of his investigation as soon as he came back from Rome, where he’d been on another case.

The Inspector showed up after brunch, and found Germano waiting at the door to his office.

“What’s the deal? What happened in Rome?”

"Nothing new, the gambling investigation is still missing a piece."

"Let's hope you can solve it. Things have just changed here, drastically."

"Changed? In what sense?"

“It’s the Carlo Riva case. A few minutes ago I received confirmation of the arrest warrant I requested earlier."

“Who are we going to arrest?”

“I was surprised myself, but we're going to arrest Michele Riva. He’ll be charged with the murder of his father.”

“How did you discover his involvement?”

"One of the tapes shows the son, Michele Riva, when he left the art gallery at 18:50. I already called the forensic department to find the exact time of Carlo Riva’s death, and it was around 18:30."

“Even so, Vincent...”

"I know exactly what you're thinking Angelo. It's unbelievable."

"Did he by any chance provide an alibi for the time of the murder?"

"Actually, when I had the chance to speak to him, the conversation came around to the reason why his father may have committed suicide. I didn’t reveal any details at that time, and he told me he’d been studying the entire afternoon. According to him, that was from immediately after lunch until dinner time, in his studio on the Tiber.”

“Did he tell you if he’d seen anybody? Maybe he studied with a colleague from the university?”

"Not that I recall. Anyway, I don’t think he studies at the university. Dealing with theater probably involves working on a show in that theater."

"It's also possible he asked somebody to cover for him during the time when the crime was committed. We should allow for that, I imagine."

"You’re imagining a lot, Angelo. In fact from now on, any person who provides an alibi between 18.00 and 19.00 will indict themselves for aiding and abetting. The images speak for themselves."

"Understood. Who will you send to make the arrest?"

"Di Girolamo should be ready by then. I also called the mobile team who will be there in support."

"Where did you say he lives?"

“Along Via del Politeama.”

The news of Michelle Riva’s arrest made the front page in the online editions of the newspapers. The Commissioner scanned the articles very carefully. When he was about to put on his coat and go home, Inspector Parisi entered his office without knocking.

"Vincent, there’s a person out there who’d like to talk to you urgently."

"Unless it’s absolutely necessary, I'm heading toward my car, Angelo."

“I believe it’s absolutely necessary.”

“And who is this person?”

"He said his name is Tim Simons. His daughter lives in Rome, and she's Michele Riva's girlfriend."

"Tim Simons? The famous American detective?”

“I guess so. Should I ask him to come in?”

“Wait, I'll sit down first. Okay, let him in."

Mr. Simons looked the same as his pictures in the newspapers. Germano often read the American press, and he had to agree, at first glance, with what they said. The renowned detective wore light-colored pants, and a white Panama hat. He had a dark beard almost two inches long. The butt of a Toscano cigar protruded from his mouth, which was almost hidden by the beard.

“Let me guess. Germano, right?”

“And you must be the famous Tim Simons.”

“Famous? I don’t think so. Maybe in the law enforcement world, but nothing else.”

"What did you want to speak to me about?"

"You see, Commissioner, Michele Riva is like one of the family. He’s been engaged to my daughter for many years, and we’re all very close. When I heard of his arrest I was shocked."

“Honestly Mr. Simons, we were all shocked. We had many theories about the crime, but we didn't believe it was the son who killed his father. Especially after we were so confused about the suicide note.”

“Are you talking about the farewell letter? The one that the newspapers are talking about?”

"Yes, that's correct.  For the time being we're trying to establish how Michele convinced his father to write it. Or if the letter may have contained another meaning."

“Is it possible to let me have a copy?”

“To have a copy? Of what?”

“A copy of the letter, so I can check it myself. Don’t worry Commissioner, I won’t steal your investigation, and I wouldn’t try to usurp your authority.”

“What are looking for?”

“A clue, any clue. I’m pretty much convinced that Michele is innocent, and I'd like to help.”

“Well, I can see you’re not familiar with Italian officialdom. I'm afraid I need to remind you that you don’t have permission to work in Italy. Only in the United States.”

"I realize that, and I know I can't investigate this matter. At least, not officially. Even so, I'm offering to help. You’re also American, Germano, isn't that right?”

“Yes, but I've been living in Italy long enough to remember how it's done over the ocean.”

"Right. Let me investigate Commissioner. I promise you I won't take the initiative without your permission."

"Simons, I fully realize my refusal won't stop you. All I ask is this. If you find something, please let us know immediately. And of course, don't discuss anything with the newspapers."

“That's clear, after all, we're both seeking the truth. I'll be pleased if you don't try to block me.”

“No, Simons, I won’t do that, but...”

“Understood. I’ll let you know if I discover anything.”

“If you do, all you have to do is call the Precinct at any time. Ask for an appointment with me, that way I’ll understand. It's the best way.”

“Don’t you worry Germano, I’ll do whatever works for both of us.”

“I hope so. Is there anything else you need to tell me?”

“Not now. Thank you for your trust.”

“Did I have a choice?”

The news of Simon's arrival had spread throughout the police station. When Germano finally came out of his office, he felt like a celebrity. Except that instead of being surrounded by photographers, when he looked out he only saw his own agents.

He tried not to give away any clues to anyone about the substance of the conversation he'd just ended; he merely said the investigator was interested in a few details of little value.

One man who didn't believe the whole story was Angelo Parisi. After leaving his colleagues, he met Germano in the parking lot while he was getting into his car.

“What did he want?”

“Nothing in particular. He just told me he wanted to investigate certain matters relating to this issue.”

“But he can’t do that. Did you tell him?”

"I tried, but I gave up when I realized it would be completely useless."

“What a man.”

"For now we must keep this case under our control. I'm sad to say it, but if we let the guy go, we'd have to stay on the defensive, waiting for someone to make a false move.”

“There is no other way?”

“Not yet my friend.”

That night was very different from how he'd imagined it. When he arrived at his home, he found some unexpected guests waiting for him. His in-laws, who had decided to delight their children and grandchildren with their recipes. Of course, as usual, they chose Germano's house for the visit.

The unexpected arrival of Simons at the Precinct had already made the rounds of the neighborhood. It meant between the mullet and the prawns, the Commissioner also had to entertain those present, by revealing as much as he could about the popular American detective.

E
lio Rossetti was the bartender who'd called a few days earlier to warn the police about the strange closing time of the art gallery. The Commissioner arranged for him to call in to see him that morning. Germano was waiting for him at nine o'clock. For some reason, the bartender arrived a few minutes early.

"Good morning Rossetti. I only called you in today because of the delays with some of the paperwork, things I couldn't do before. In any case, thank you for your punctuality."