temptation in florence 03 - bankers death by boeker beate

Author:boeker, beate [boeker, beate]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2013-04-16T00:00:00+00:00

II

When Garini left the Mantoni house, he wanted to smash something against a wall. Hard. It would have to make a lot of noise, and it would have to splinter into a thousand pieces to give him some satisfaction. What a damned muddle. He felt ill-used, put upon, and misled, and he didn't know if he was angry at Carlina, simply for being part of that family, if nothing else, or if he should only be angry at the rest of them. In fact, it didn't make a difference as she treated the family as her first priority no matter what happened. He clenched his fist and climbed onto his motorbike, then kicked it into action with more aggression than necessary. Why hadn't she confided in him? Why had she agreed to lead him in circles?

Suddenly, that sneaking little voice inside him spoke up, the one that always took Carlina's side. “Because she knew what an awkward situation this would cause for you. It wasn't her choice to hide the body.”

He couldn't help it, he had to argue with that inner voice. “But it was her choice to hold her mouth and to go along.” He was way above the speed limit as he rushed around the corner onto the Piazza di Santa Croce.

“Wouldn't you have done the same?”

He preferred not to reply to this one. Damn it. He missed her already. She had seemed so defeated. Would they dare to accuse her again? He wanted to kill that mother of hers with his bare hands.

“You're a great Commissario,” the little voice taunted him. “So cool and composed. Face it - you're in a worse situation now that you know he was found half-naked in Carlina's apartment than before.”

Garini accelerated again with a roar. His boss would have a heyday. Damn it all. What on earth could he put into the report? Could he leave it out? For a day or two - maybe. But not indefinitely. In general, he kept his reports short and concise. He hated to waste time on bureaucracy. Maybe he should follow that old business rule he had once heard from a manager. If the figures you have to present are not as you want them to be, and if you can't fake them, smother them with tons of unnecessary details, so nobody will spot the ugly truth anymore. He might have to do that. If he added enough tedious diversions, went on about the alibis of everybody involved in unnecessary length, and only mentioned the position of Valentino's body in passing, in a half-sentence somewhere toward the end of the report, then Cervi might have fallen asleep before he came to the juicy bits.

He clenched his teeth. But not yet. For the time being, he would not mention this anywhere. He promised himself he would get to the bottom of this business . . . and if it meant that the whole family had to go to prison, so be it.

He swung around the corner, past a colorful newspaper booth.

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