Last Testament in Bologna by Tom Benjamin

Author:Tom Benjamin [Benjamin, Tom]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781408715567
Published: 2023-11-08T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Rose was still at the hospital and our dog, Rufus, a dirty-brown Lagotto Romagnolo, was beginning to roam menacingly around our freshly laid lawn, so I thought I’d better take him for a walk. I needed to pass by the office anyway.

We were turning the corner onto Via Marconi when I spotted Dolores coming out of our building. It was a bright, hazy evening and the portico was busy with people still enjoying the novelty of spring, lingering by the bars for an after-work aperitivo, or dawdling before shop fronts. With Rufus padding placidly off the lead beside me, I began to follow her, at first with the intention of catching her up and confronting her about what I had learned from Celeste, but then, as my doubts about how to approach the topic crept in, just following.

An experienced snoop doesn’t expect to be snooped upon any more than a hunter expects to be hunted, although in this case I was at the disadvantage of being known to my mark, plus having a dog in tow (albeit that Rufus’s anosmia was a definite plus – he wasn’t about to waylay me with arresting odours) so I had to fall further behind than usual and made sure to keep to the sides of the street where we could blend more easily with the shadows.

Dolores headed south up Marconi.

It soon became clear where she was going, so now I placed Rufus on the lead, and we crossed the street to stay out of her eye-line. Sure enough, she stopped at the bus stop opposite the church of San Francesco while we lurked beneath the portico. I vaguely wondered if I had time to dash back and get my car before her bus arrived. I looked down at Rufus, who gazed up at me with his disconcertingly human eyes as if to say – you’ve got to be kidding.

In any case, it was too late – here it came, the 22 for Stadio.

‘Popping into La Residenza, is she?’ I asked Rufus. Of course, I had checked with Alba, and Dolores had indeed stuck her head in that last time, which didn’t surprise me – she was nothing if not thorough – but it didn’t mean anything. I looked around for a cab, but I was not in London or New York. Here, taxis had to be called, which wasn’t much help to private eyes who needed to instruct a cabbie to ride tail. Then I spotted the one thing that almost never arrived when you needed it – another bus.

As the first number 22 pulled out with Dolores aboard, I scooped up Rufus, as hefty as a furry three-year-old, and dodged the busy traffic to make it to the other side. Still clutching the dog beneath one arm, I signalled for the bus to stop. For a moment I thought the driver would ignore me, but it drew up at the last minute and I got on at the rear door. It closed behind me and accelerated away.

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