Джеффри Арчер - The Short, the Long and the Tall [С иллюстрациями]

‘Just out of interest, Signor Cattaneo,’ said Antonio, ‘if you had won the toss, dare I ask how you would have killed the mayor?’

‘I would have shot him as well, but unfortunately we only have one gun between us, so I had to bury the weapon in his garden, where you can still find it.’

‘Again, just so that I understand his motive, may I ask why Gian Lucio was so willing to be charged with a murder that he didn’t commit?’

‘Oh, that’s easy to explain, Lieutenant. Lombardi used to eat at Gian Lucio’s restaurant three times a day and he never once paid the bill.’

‘That’s hardly a good enough reason to kill someone.’

‘It is when you lose all your regular customers because none of them want to eat in the same restaurant as the mayor.’

‘But that doesn’t explain why you wanted to kill him.’

‘Gian Lucio is my best customer, and he could no longer afford my finest cuts, so it wouldn’t have been much longer before we were both out of business. By the way, Lieutenant, was Lombardi electrocuted by any chance?’

‘Get out of here, Signor Cattaneo, before I get myself arrested for murder.’

Not a totally wasted morning, considered Antonio, because he was now confident only he, Constable Gentile and the murderer had any idea how Lombardi had been killed. But where was Gentile?

Antonio arrived at Lucio’s just before 6 p.m., looking forward to seeing Francesca. He sat at an outside table and placed a bunch of lilies on the chair next to him, smiling when Gian Lucio joined him.

‘Can I get you a drink, Lieutenant?’

‘No, thank you. I’ll wait until my guest arrives. And Gian Lucio,’ Antonio said as the restaurateur turned to leave, ‘just to let you know your friend Signor Cattaneo failed to get you arrested for murder this morning.’

‘I know, but then I did win the toss,’ sighed Gian Lucio.

‘My bet is that both of you know who killed Lombardi.’

‘Can I get you a glass of wine while you’re waiting, Lieutenant?’ Gian Lucio said, quickly changing the subject. ‘Francesca prefers the Cortoglia White.’

‘Then why don’t you make it two?’

Gian Lucio left quickly.

Antonio continued to look across the square to the pharmacy until he spotted Francesca locking up. He watched her crossing the square and immediately realized it was the first time he’d seen her not wearing a long white coat. She was dressed in a red silk blouse, a black skirt and a pair of highheeled shoes that certainly hadn’t been bought in Cortoglia. He tried not to stare at her. What else was different? Of course, she’d let her hair down. He hadn’t thought it possible that she could be even more beautiful.

‘As you’re a highly trained detective,’ Francesca said when she sat down next to him, ‘you will know that my name is Francesca, while I’m not sure if you are Antonio or Toni?’

‘My mother calls me Antonio, but my friends call me Toni.’

‘Do your family also come from Naples?’

‘Yes,’ said Antonio. ‘My parents are both school-teachers. My father is the headmaster of the Michelangelo Illioneo School, where my mother teaches history, but no one is in any doubt who runs the place.’

Francesca laughed. ‘Any brothers or sisters?’

‘Just one brother, Darius. He’s a lawyer. So once I’ve locked any criminals up, he puts on a long black gown and defends them. That way we keep it all in the family.’

Francesca laughed again. ‘Did you always want to be a policeman?’ she asked, as Gian Lucio handed them both a glass of wine.

‘From the age of six when someone stole my sweets. But to be fair, if you’re brought up in Naples, you have to decide at an early age which side of the law you’re going to be on. Did you always want to be a pharmacist?’

‘I first worked in the shop at the age of twelve,’ she said, looking across the square, ‘and with the exception of four years at Milan University studying chemistry, it’s been my second home. So when the owner retired, I took over.’

‘How did your father feel about that?’

‘He was too busy fighting the mayoral election at the time, and I do mean fighting, to have even noticed.’

‘Which everyone assumed your father would win.’

‘By a landslide. So it came as something of a surprise when the town clerk announced that Lombardi had won.’

‘But I haven’t come across anyone who voted for Lombardi,’ said Antonio.

‘In that election, it didn’t matter how you voted, Toni, only who was counting the votes.’

‘But your father became mayor soon after Lombardi was murdered?’

‘No one even stood against him the second time, so I hope you’ll attend his inauguration on Saturday?’

‘I wouldn’t miss it,’ said Antonio, raising his glass. ‘That’s assuming I haven’t arrested Lombardi’s murderer before then.’

‘How many people admitted to killing the mayor today?’

‘Two. Pellegrino and the florist, Signor Burgoni.’

‘So how did he bump off Lombardi?’ Francesca asked.

‘Claimed he ran him down in his Ferrari, and then reversed over him to make sure he was dead. Right here in the town square.’

‘Sounds pretty convincing to me, so why didn’t you arrest him?’

‘Because he doesn’t own a Fiat, let alone a Ferrari, and what’s more, doesn’t even have a driving licence,’ said Antonio, as he handed Francesca the lilies. ‘So he’ll be able to continue selling his flowers.’

Francesca laughed, just as Gian Lucio appeared and suggested another glass of wine.

‘No, no, Gian Lucio,’ said Francesca, ‘I must get home. There’s so much I have to do before Saturday.’

‘When your father will take up his rightful position as mayor of Cortoglia. But I do hope that we’ll see you both before then,’ said Gian Lucio as he offered a slight bow.

‘If I’m given a second chance,’ said Antonio as Francesca stood up, and they began to walk across the square towards the pharmacy. Francesca explained that she lived in an apartment above the shop.

‘Where are you staying?’ said Francesca.

‘They’ve put me in Lombardi’s old home while I’m here. I’ve never lived in such luxury, and I’m trying not to get used to it as it won’t be long before I have to return to my little flat in Naples.’

‘Not if you don’t catch the killer,’ she teased.

‘Nice idea, but my chief’s becoming restless. He’s made it clear he expects me back at my desk within a fortnight, with or without the murderer.’

When they reached Francesca’s door, she took out a key, but before she could put it in the lock Antonio bent down and kissed her.

‘I look forward to seeing you tomorrow, Toni.’

Antonio looked puzzled until Francesca added, ‘I have a feeling that it can’t be too long before you’ll need another bar of soap. By the way, Toni, some of our customers buy them in boxes of three, even six.’

Francesca opened the door and disappeared inside. Antonio walked across to the other side of the square to find several of the locals were grinning.

The following day started badly for Antonio. He was studying the pinboard, now covered in photographs, several with crosses through them. His thoughts were interrupted by Riccardo Forte, the local postman, who marched in and even before delivering the morning mail said, ‘I can’t bear the strain any longer, Lieutenant. I’ve decided to give myself up and admit that it was me who murdered the mayor.’

‘I was just making a cup of coffee, Riccardo, would you like one?’

‘Not before you arrest me and beat me up.’