The Third Shadow

Ten

~~~~~

A certain level of delicacy was required: Olivia was, after all, in early stage pregnancy. In any case, hauling her down to the caserma would have only had the press working itself up into a lather. Then there was Sarah to consider too: a confession of complicity by her sister-in-law would confirm everyone's worst fears. For now, the less she knew or suspected, the better. In short, it was in everyone's best interests to keep things as informal as possible.

After a quick call to Nuzzo, it was therefore agreed that Sarah should be collected by Annie Rogers, the embassy rep - ostensibly to find a hotel where the women might spend their final night in Italy in some degree of privacy. She was told that Olivia would join them later, after a check up with a pediatrician. A visit had indeed been arranged for the early evening; given the trauma of recent days, it had seemed only sensible. The interview meanwhile took place in the bungalow as we waited for the forensic team - the scientifiche - to make their way down from provincial command. Their presence would, I could only suppose, be sold to the press as part of routine procedure.

"Some clothes," Olivia was listing. "His phone charger, toiletry bag."

The telephone call to this Loacke chap - yes, that had been part of it. A man planning fraticide would hardly have the presence of mind to worry about a minor business matter. Whatever had happened between the two brothers that night, it hadn't been pre-meditated. No, Lee had had to come back for his passport. Sneak in past Sarah dozing there on the settee, gently wake his wife.

The cabin bag had provided confirmation - the hole in the zip-pull being just big enough to accommodate the nib of a biro, a gentle tug had been sufficient to leave a slit through which I'd been able to peer inside. Just as I'd suspected: it had been half empty.

"We're going to need you to detail exactly which items of clothing," I warned.

There was a resigned nod from the other side of the living room table. Her eyes were downturned, avoiding mine - a schoolgirl caught out in some minor misdemeanour. Yes, it was difficult not to be reminded of her youth: twenty-eight, only a year older than my Ellie.

"Anything else?" I asked.

"Some money."

The admission was voiced evenly, matter-of-factly, as was the usual way with confessions. Once the decision has been made, once 'found out', the guilty party recount their secrets with a calmness bordering almost on relief. She'd done her job, after all: had bought her husband precious time. There was little point now in wilful obstruction.

"How much?"

"He took it from my handbag. There might have been a hundred or so."

Added to the two hundred and fifty he'd withdrawn earlier in the day, the investigation would proceed on the supposition that Lee had taken flight with somewhere between three and four hundred euros in cash.

"That everything?"

"Think so, yes."

There might have been something else, I suspected, but we would need to check that with signor Caputo, the landlord.

"And what did he say? I mean, he must have attempted some sort of explanation."

"He just said that something had... Had come up." She looked upwards for a moment, eyes angled off towards the ceiling, picturing it. "Said he was sorting it out. Whispering, finger over my lips. Didn't want to wake her. Sarah."

I paused to translate, Nuzzo's face pinched in concentration. It must have been frustrating, not being able to pick up on the linguistic subtelties. As frustrating as it was for me to keep having to stop, lose the flow.