Black Bridge (10 page)

“Gemelli seems to be in a new spirit of cooperation. We won't have to pull as many strings as we usually do. He's already shown me the medical examiner's report. Moss and Quimper were definitely murdered.”

“‘A new spirit of cooperation.' How interesting! And what, may I ask, is his reason?”

“He wants my help. I was acquainted with Moss and Quimper and observed certain things about them—”

“And some of those things involve Bobo! That's it in a nutshell! I'm not that dull-witted! Between the two of you, you want to do him in! It's a conspiracy!”

“With that attitude you're going to do Bobo more harm than good! Moss called you a short time before they were killed. You're involved yourself from Gemelli's point of view and don't think it doesn't give him satisfaction!”

“It doesn't matter a fig what he thinks of me! And Bobo had absolutely nothing to do with these murders! You're a fifth column, a Quisling, a—a—oh, what's your sad American equivalent? Yes!” she said forcefully. “A Benedict Arnold! Although
he
was a hero in
my
country.”

For a moment the anger on the Contessa's face ebbed away into confusion—as well it should have, given the convoluted logic of her last words—but she recovered herself and nodded with satisfaction.

“Oh, how can I trust you? How can
we
trust you?”

She looked forlornly at the door as if seeking out the about-to-be-betrayed Barone, who just might have wandered down to find out what all the excitement was about.

“You
can
trust me, Barbara. But you're right. I don't like Bobo! I don't know if it's him or—or
you
and him. Even before he came into the picture I was out of sorts. I still am, with worries about this damn gout, silly and self-indulgent though it seems to you. Seeing you so wrapped up in Bobo makes everything even worse. I'm happy for you, but I don't want you hurt in any way. And I keep bumping up against the fact that I just don't trust him, and the crazy thing is that I don't have much faith in my own reaction either!”

“Why, you're jealous!” the Contessa said with an inappropriate but nonetheless big smile. “You sweet, dear, little man! I want to come over and give you a kiss!”

She didn't, but instead kept beaming as if at a mischievous child.

“So you see, Barbara, because I
am
aware of my bias, I'll do whatever I can to be absolutely fair.”

This struck his own ears as more than a little smooth and facile, not to mention naive. The Contessa didn't look convinced.

“To show you how bad things are for Bobo, you should know that copies of the threats were found in Moss and Quimper's room at the Flora as well as other evidence.”

The Contessa was stunned.

“We have three possibilities, Barbara, and only three. One: Moss and Quimper were murdered for some unknown reason by someone who then planted those things in their room to implicate Bobo. Two: They were murdered by one person but the sheets and guidebook were left by someone else who wanted to take advantage of the murders to make trouble for Bobo. This person was blackmailing Bobo and underlined the pertinent passage in the guidebook. Three: Moss and Quimper were threatening Bobo, and they've been murdered because of it in some way. Don't delude yourself, Barbara. Bobo is involved—one way or another. The only question is how deeply.”

“I'll leave you to contemplate the possibilities on your own. I'm going to put a cold compress on my face and rest. And please let Bobo restore himself before you start badgering him with questions. Stay here if you like, but make good use of your time by reconsidering some of your wild notions.”

5

“Yes, two policemen came back here and went through my room,” Bobo told Urbino in the
salotto blu
an hour later. “I told them they could turn everything upside down as long as they didn't cut the paintings from the frames or break the ceramic palm trees. Quite thorough, they were. They wanted to know what clothes I was wearing last night. I told them I gave my suede jacket, scarf, and gloves to the Gritti housekeeper. Then, when I said that Barbara's maid had already washed some of my other things, they acted as if I had imposed on the poor girl in the middle of the night. It
is
her job!”

Bobo ate one of the
tramezzini
, then emptied his wineglass. As Urbino filled their glasses from a bottle of Bardolino, he said: “You seem blasé about all this, but Gemelli is very serious. There
have
been two murders.”

“I'm aware of that, but I can't make myself worry about it when I know I'm innocent, can I?”

“It would upset me very much if I were unjustly accused.”

“As it would me, but I haven't been accused of anything,” Bobo reminded him. “I could give a list of people who had as much contact with Moss and Quimper as I did.” He raised his glass. “I'm a lamb, Urbino, a true and veritable lamb.” After his sip he nodded as if in approval of either the Bardolino or his comment. “But although I might be a lamb I have no intention of being led to the slaughter—by anyone!”

“That means you'll make things as clear as possible about your relationship with Moss. It's the only way you can protect yourself.”

“Be assured that I didn't have
any
relationship with him or the girl. That's what you—
we
—have to convince your friend the Commissario about. I never saw either of them before Barbara's reception.”

The bold look he gave Urbino wavered. Fear was in the air. Whatever secret Bobo might be harboring, he was intelligent enough to realize that a murder investigation was bound to flush it out.

Urbino brought up the incident of Moss and Quimper in the gondola beneath the Gritti Palace terrace.

“I vaguely remember the couple in the gondola but I didn't realize it was them. To know they were involved with those threats baffles me. Has it occurred to you that the murderer could have planted them in their room to point a finger at me?”

“But if that's what happened, you have a
different
kind of problem—just as bad if not worse. It would mean that the person threatening you is also a murderer, someone who might have killed Moss and Quimper for a reason related to you. If you're hiding anything, whether about them or someone else, no matter how trivial you think it may be, it would be better to mention it now rather than later—all the more so if you're innocent.”

“‘Hiding anything,' you say?” Bobo gave a hollow laugh, showing rows of impossibly white teeth. “I've already told the Commissario everything.”

“But you didn't mention that you had some words with Moss at your book signing, words that seemed to have something to do with Barbara.”

“With Barbara? How preposterous!” Again the hollow laugh. “I don't remember what we said to each other. Which means it must have been of little consequence.”

“That wasn't my impression.”

“But that's the problem with impressions, isn't it? They're so often wrong.”

“What did you and Livia do after the performance?” Urbino asked, abruptly switching his focus.

“We went to Harry's Bar to celebrate our success.”

“How long were you there?”

“About half an hour—until ten-thirty.”

“Not long for a celebration. What did you do then?”

“I walked Livia to the Flora and left. No, wait a minute. Before I left I called her on the house phone to remind her to look in on Orlando. I had forgotten to tell her.”

The Flora was about a ten-minute walk from Harry's. Bobo had returned to the Ca' da Capo-Zendrini about twelve forty-five. Even a slow walk or the local vaporetto would have brought him back at least an hour earlier.

“Moss called Barbara about midnight. He wanted to drop by. Do you know anything about that?”

“Absolutely nothing. Why should I?”

“Moss and Quimper were staying at the Flora. You could have seen them when you walked Livia back. Moss could have told you he was thinking of coming here.”

Bobo stared icily at Urbino.

“I didn't see Moss after the reception. I was only at the Flora a short time. We said good night and I made my way back here on foot. I got lost and ended up on the embankment across from the cemetery island.”

This surprised Urbino. Although it was easy to get lost in Venice, it was unusual to go this far astray making your way to a palazzo on the Grand Canal.

“And your nosebleed?”

“Oh, that! I lost my footing going up a bridge. I didn't hit my nose but the jarring provoked the nosebleed. I'm very sensitive when it comes to them.”

“Are you sure you didn't walk through the Rialto Market when you were lost?”

“Absolutely not!” Then, with what must have been intended as a no-nonsense expression, he added: “Know this and know this well, Urbino: I want the murderer found as soon as possible. And not only because of how bad it looks for me. This person is crazed! Who knows which of us might be struck down next?” When he took a sip, his hand was visibly shaking. “Just knowing that someone other than that bumbling Commissario is looking into things will be a comfort. Barbara says that he's asked you to help. Just watch out for his tricks! I give you a
carte blanche
to talk to whomever you like. I have nothing to hide. You'll find me the soul of understanding and patience. After all, we both have the same end in mind, don't we?”

6

After Urbino left, Bobo called the Hotel Flora from his bedroom. Disguising his voice on the off chance that it might be recognized, he asked for Livia Festa's room. He waited impatiently as the phone rang. He was about to give up when Festa answered.

Bobo spoke in low, urgent tones. Someone right outside his door would have been unable to hear anything he said until, near the end of the conversation, he raised his voice and said angrily: “Unless you want everything to come out, you'll keep your mouth shut! Remember: I called you after we said good night. We talked for one or two minutes. I reminded you to check to see how Orlando was doing.” Bobo listened to her response then said: “You don't need to know. Just don't forget what I said. And we haven't had this conversation. In fact, we haven't spoken to each other since last night.”

Bobo hung up and wondered if there was anything he had forgotten.

7

The next morning at Florian's, Urbino took the
Gazzettino
from the rack and ordered a
caffelatte
. A piece on the murders told him nothing new. No mention was made of the threats against the Barone or the items found in the couple's room.

Urbino stared out into Piazza San Marco and thought about various aspects of the case. The swiftness with which Bobo had had his clothes cleaned by the Gritti housekeeper and the Contessa's maid was puzzling. Did it say anything more than that Bobo was fastidious?

Then there was Bobo's casual dismissal of his encounter with Moss at the book signing. Why had Moss come unless for a compelling reason? Of course, a threat had been left. Perhaps that was reason enough for Moss and Quimper's presence, but somehow Urbino doubted it. And anyone at the signing could have left the threat.

On the short walk to the Hotel Flora, Urbino saw the Contessa. She was coming out of the Banca Commerciale Italiana. She had a strained look on her face and grasped her Gucci bag tightly under her arm. When she saw Urbino, she started.

“Urbino! You shouldn't creep up on people like that! What are you doing here?” Since “here” was the heart of Venice, she must have realized the strangeness of her question and quickly said: “Up early as usual, I see. I hope it's to make efforts on Bobo's behalf.” She paused, looked uncomfortable. “Well, I have to be going. I'm on my way to Venetia Studium,” she said, naming the shop that sold hand-printed fabrics and items done in the Fortuny “
plissé
” technique.

She hurried off. Urbino watched her until she darted into the shop.

8

“Mademoiselle Quimper was nice enough but her friend was impossible!” the manager at the Hotel Flora said. “Always complaining—about the room, our rates, the breakfast, noise from the garden, everything! He had a chip on his shoulder. Very quick to anger—but don't misunderstand me. No one deserves to die like that. My brother-in-law in the police gave me all the details.”

“Did Moss or Quimper make any telephone calls from their room on the evening they were murdered?”

“No—and they didn't get any either. I was on the desk. It's not my shift, but one of the staff got sick.”

“I'm sure you've gone through it all with the police but would you mind telling me if you noticed anything unusual that night?”

“Not really, but, well,” he said hesitantly, “there
was
something about the Barone Casarotto-Re. I didn't tell the police because I forgot it at the time. My brother-in-law told me this morning that they found something in the couple's room that indicated they might not have liked the Barone.”

If Gemelli found out that one of his men was giving away vital information in a murder investigation, he would be furious. Urbino had to go cautiously.

“I don't know anything about that,” he said.

“Neither do I,” the manager said quickly, “but you asked if I noticed anything unusual the night of the murder, and the Barone came here about ten forty-five with Signora Festa. He made a call on the house telephone.”

He nodded toward the small adjacent room.

“Do you know which room he called?”

“More's the pity,” the manager said regretfully. “It was a few minutes after Signora Festa went up in the elevator. He talked for a few minutes and then left. Moss and his friend went out together about five minutes later. That was the last time I saw them. About ten minutes later Signora Festa came down with her dog.”