The Marshal and the Murderer by Magdalen Nabb

Author:Magdalen Nabb [Nabb, Magdalen]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Mystery, (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
ISBN: 9781569472972
Publisher: Soho Crime
Published: 1983-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Six

'I'll tell you what.' Niccolini was marching up and down behind his desk between the rubber plant and a filing cabinet in the opposite corner. "We need more facts and less gossip, that's what we need. I'm not just referring to Tina, either. I was thinking the same thing yesterday but with Robiglio in mind — and if it turns out there's a connection there, then all the more reason . . .'

The Marshal's big eyes followed him back and forth, wishing he would sit down but realizing that he had already required him to be silent and listen, and that to ask him to be still as well was asking too much. So he said nothing.

'I want to know exactly what Moretti's deal with that peasant farmer was over his sister. I want to know what Sestini meant by saying you can't get away with it twice, and I want to know what our friend Robiglio was up to during the war because it just might stop him getting elected if it's raked up now, and who knows whether that young girl found out something -what do you think?'

'I think,' said the Marshal slowly, 'as I've already said . . . that there's something more recent . . . Still, I agree with you, we do need facts, only I'm afraid nobody's going to give us any.'

Niccolini stopped marching and smiled broadly.

'Now there you're wrong. I made my mind up on this yesterday, and when I make my mind up I get busy. There had to be somebody in this town who wasn't involved in any of its feuds and scandals and I've found him. It was my brigadier's mother who put me on to him. She's lived here all her life and though she's too young to remember much about the war she was able to tell me where to look. Dr Arnolfo Frasinelli's our man!' He sat down at last, rubbing his hands together with satisfaction. 'Eighty-six years old but they say he's as quick as a twenty-year-old, knows the history of everybody in this place, especially as for years he was a GP, and takes no nonsense from any of them. We're going along to meet him shortly, and with any luck he'll be able to explain at least some of this lot.'

With the flourish of a conjuror Niccolini whipped open his desk drawer and spread a bunch of papers under the Marshal's nose. 'You told me to expect them and here they are, for what they're worth.'

'Anonymous letters . . .'

'Exactly. And not one of them any help unless Frasinelli can enlighten us. Take a look through.' And he carried on marching up and down behind the Marshal's chair.

The first letter the Marshal took from the pile was written with a ballpoint pen in capitals on a sheet of lined paper torn from a child's exercise book. Only two lines were written at the top: ASK MORETTI WHERE HE GOT THE MONEY TO BUY LAND WHEN HE WAS IN DEBT.

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