“Mr. Kirkpatrick – he’s the pathologist – tells me, from the temperature of the body and the state of coagulation of the blood, that your friend has been dead for less than three hours. That means, on the evidence of Miss Parkinson, that you cannot possibly be a suspect. It’s fortunate that the young lady came home with you.”
There was a twitch at the corner of Paisley’s mouth. It was only then that it dawned on Ben that he might have been a suspect. He suddenly felt the need to take a long, deep breath.
“He also says that the young man hadn’t eaten for at least three days and that his body has taken a considerable beating. Several of his fingers have been broken (probably deliberately) and some of his ribs may have been fractured by heavy kicks. I’m afraid it looks as though your friend was tortured before he was killed. That might mean that his murderers wanted Mr Cimbrone to tell them something or to give them something which they thought was very important. Do you have any idea what that might have been?”
Ben shook his head. For the first time the full meaning of Toni’s death got through to him. It dawned on him that there was something very nasty happening behind all this. He felt the floor sway beneath his feet. If he hadn’t already been sitting down he would have felt the need to find a chair.
The inspector was watching him closely. “You say that the father of Mr Cimbrone had recently died. Do you know the cause of his death?”
The harshness of his voice jerked Ben into alertness again. “The cause? Er – well, I believe it was a heart attack or something like that. I know the old boy had been ill for some time. Toni had mentioned several times that he was worried about him.”
“Now then, Mr Cartwright?” Paisley spoke slowly and clearly, “Can you think of anything in your business here which the murderers might have wanted to obtain?"
“No, I can’t. I’ve been wondering about that myself. We never keep large amounts of money here overnight. Most of our sales are to existing accounts and the rest are usually paid for by credit card. I don’t know of anything here which is particularly valuable. Obviously there’s the drink on the shelves, but that’s not enough to commit murder for.”
“It wasn’t a simple theft which went wrong,” agreed the inspector. “They weren’t worried about leaving their fingerprints behind. We’ve found them all over the place. They seem to have been looking for something. It may have been some sort of information. They’ve been through all your papers thoroughly.”
Ben pondered. “Well, I don’t know what sort of information they would have been looking for. We only have the normal business paperwork – nothing of special significance. We import wines of course, as you know. But I can’t see why that should be significant, unless there’s some sort of hidden code on the manifests.”
The inspector asked no further questions for several minutes as he brought his notes up to date. Ben was left to ponder the horrific mystery of why someone had wanted to torture and murder his partner - a man who he’d always regarded as a friendly, easy-going individual.
Paisley raised his head again. “This company of yours, Mr Cartwright – who are the principals?”
“Pardon?”
“The owners?”
“Well, Toni and I are - or were. That is - we had ninety-eight percent of the shares split equally between us.”
“Who has the other two percent?”
“They’re held in a trust fund administered by our solicitor - James Meredith. The intention, when we set up the business, was to give somebody else a casting vote if we disagreed over anything important. In fact it has never arisen.”
“And what will happen to Mr Cimbrone’s shares now?”
“I don’t know. I suppose they’ll go to his next of kin. That will probably be his mother. Perhaps I may be able to buy them – although I don’t think I’d be able to afford it. The shares are now worth quite a lot on paper because of the success of the company. In any case, Toni’s family has a big interest in our activities. They supply a lot of the wine.” The thought suddenly occurred to him that James Meredith’s two percent might become important after all.
“So who are his nearest relatives?”
“Well, his mother, of course. He also has an older brother called Alfredo who I believe has been running the family business and estates in Italy since his father became ill.”
“Does he have any other family?”
“There’s a younger sister called Francesca. I suppose she’s about twenty-one or so by now. She and Toni were very close, but I didn’t see much of her. I don’t know how she’ll react to his death?”
The inspector finished his fifth page and laboriously prepared his next sheet. While he wrote painstakingly, Ben’s mind ranged back to his last visit to the Villa Cimbrone. He had only occasionally seen the willful young girl with the vitriolic temper whose behaviour Toni seemed to view with a tolerant smile. In the way of Italian families she had been kept well out of Ben’s way, except for the family gatherings at the dinner table.
Somehow he had gained the impression that Francesca did not approve of him. Perhaps she blamed Ben for the fact that Toni spent so much of his life away from home, either in London or travelling around Italy in search of wines to export to Britain. The two weeks which Toni had spent in hospital recovering from his climbing accident would not have helped to soften her attitude.
Ben reflected morosely that it was more than likely she would consider him to blame in some way for Toni’s death. He fervently hoped that he wouldn’t be anywhere near when the terrible news was broken to her.
“Are there any other close relatives?” Paisley was gazing at him intently.
“There’s his mother of course. I have seldom spoken to her. She had no English and my Italian is rudimentary to say the least. Also Alfredo is married to a woman called Sylvia who I’ve only met a couple of times.”
“Which part of Italy does his family come from?”
“Southern Italy – near Naples.”
The policeman rubbed his chin as he looked at him. “Right - now let’s come to the events of this evening. At what time did you return to your flat?”
“It was quite early. I think it must have been soon after ten when I paid off the taxi.”
“Did you notice anything unusual before you went in? Were there any lights on? Did you hear any unexpected noises? Were there any doors or windows open?”
Ben considered carefully. “I don’t remember anything. You can’t see the office door from the street, so I probably wouldn’t have seen if there was a light on in there.” He thought for a while, and then hurried on. “I do remember that all the lights were off when I let myself into the shop. I suppose that’s why they knocked over the display stand which alerted me.” He shuddered. “Otherwise I might not have found Toni’s body until the morning.”
“Did you check the communicating door to the shop before you went up to your flat?”
“No. I didn’t think of it.” Ben didn’t mention the fact that he had been concentrating on the prospect of deflowering Mollie.
“But it was definitely locked when you tried to open it after hearing the noise?”
“That’s right. It took me a few seconds to find the keys and get it unlocked.”
Paisley wanted to get the details right. “You actually tried it before you got out your keys, and it was definitely locked.”
“Yes,” agreed Ben. “Yes, I’m sure it was.”
“OK. Now tell me what you saw as soon as you opened the door.”
“Well, nothing at first. It was too dark. But as soon as I turned on the light I saw the display unit knocked over. Then I saw the outside door was open a little way.”
The inspector led him through the subsequent events up to the point where he telephoned the police. Ben once again apologised for touching the body but Paisley shrugged it away as being of no importance. He seemed to have less interest
in the body than in the objects surrounding it.
As he prepared the next page of the statement (the eighth by Ben’s reckoning) he asked, “Now Mr Cartwright, can you think of anybody who might have wanted to kill Mr Cimbrone - anyone at all?””
“Nobody,” said Ben after long, hard consideration.
“Perhaps there’s someone who he upset or harmed, possibly in Italy. They do seem to have some strange ideas over there – all these vendettas and things.” The inspector shook his head doubtfully. “Do you know of anybody in Italy who might have had a reason to kill your partner?”
“No!” Then Ben’s thoughts returned, unbidden, to the events of two years ago which he’d been trying to forget ever since.
“Mr. Cartwright?” Paisley was watching him closely.
Ben sighed. “Well – there was something. But I don’t see how it could have led to this.”
“Please tell me about it and leave me to decide the relevance.”
“Very well.” He took a deep breath. “About two years ago I was invited to have a holiday with Toni and his family at their villa on the coast near Naples. While I was there I met his brother-in-law, Carlos. In conversation between us, I was unwise enough to say that I had done some rock-climbing. It turned out that Carlos’ passion was climbing and so he arranged for himself, Toni and me to climb a very demanding cliff-face in the Apennines.”
Ben paused, feeling again the shudder of fear that crept up his spine and set his hair on end. He forced himself to continue. “The climb went disastrously wrong. Carlos was leading, Toni was second and I was bringing up the rear. Carlos slipped and fell. He took Toni part way with him but I managed to save my friend’s life. However I couldn’t do anything for Carlos and he died. That’s all really.”
He was aware that the policeman was watching him closely, looking for his weaknesses. “Was your partner blamed for the accident?” he asked.
“Toni? No! The Italian inquest said Carlos’ death was the equivalent of misadventure. There was never any suggestion that Toni was to blame in any way.”
It was different for Ben. Toni had told him that there had been dark mutterings about Ben’s failure to save Carlos, who was an important man in the region – mutterings which Toni claimed to have silenced. Nevertheless he was left with the uncomfortable thought that his partner might have been sacrificed because he was trying to protect Ben.
After a long pause, the inspector said, “I can’t see that this unfortunate accident can have led to the victim being treated in this atrocious way. Is there anything else you can tell me about your partner’s past?”
“I don’t think so.”
“There’s nobody else who might have had a reason to hate him? I would remind you that this murder was a particularly nasty one with signs of him being tortured before he was killed.”
Ben thought again but shook his head once more.
“Nobody he upset badly among your business contacts?”
“I never heard of anyone being upset by him. He was a most charming person. Everybody liked him.”
“What about your employees - or some of your suppliers? Are any of them likely to have had a reason to want to take revenge against him or the company?”
“I can’t think of anyone. We’ve had a few changes of staff in the last couple of years, but I don’t think we’ve ever treated anyone unfairly. Anyway, Toni didn’t deal with that side of the business. I’d be the target for a disaffected employee or supplier.”
The inspector wore a puzzled frown. “He never gave you any idea that he had any problems? Were the two of you close enough for him to have confided in you?”
“I believe we were. But he never mentioned anything like that.” Ben scratched his forehead.
“In any case the Italian angle would be none of my responsibility.” The inspector took a deep breath. “Well, I think that’s the lot for now. Is there anything else you want to tell me?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Anything it might be useful for me to know?”
Ben shook his head.
“If something else occurs to you later, I can be contacted at Charing Cross police station. Here’s my card.” He placed it on the table in front of the young man. “Now then – this is your statement as I’ve written it down. I want you to read this right through to make sure it’s correct, then sign every page in the space at the bottom to confirm that it is a true record of what you said. Take as long as you like. Make sure there are no mistakes. The document might have to be used in court one day.”
The inspector pushed the small sheaf of papers across the table to him. “Once that’s complete, I hope that I shan’t need to trouble you again. But I may need to come back to you if something else comes up as a result of our investigations.” He shook his head. “Frankly, I don’t think we’ll get very far on this one. I think the coroner will pass a verdict of ‘killed unlawfully by persons unknown’.”
“Now then.” He stood up. “I want a chat with Mr Kirkpatrick while you’re signing the statement. Call me when you’ve finished. Then you can go upstairs to your bed.”
Half an hour later Ben had seen the police off the premises. The body had been removed to the morgue. The bloodstained items had been bundled up and taken away for evidence and a receipt had been handed to him. He had been advised that victim support counselling would be offered to him in the morning – would he please be polite to them?
He checked once again that the locks were set and the alarms switched back on. Then he turned off the lights and made his way up to his flat. He reflected sadly on the destruction of his hopes earlier in the evening. Would Mollie ever be willing to come back to his flat with him again? He somehow doubted it.
He sighed as he put his hand in his pocket and felt the little metal emblem nestling there. He realised that he had forgotten to tell Inspector Paisley about it. He shrugged dismissively. It would have to wait until the morning. He couldn’t see the importance of ringing the man up now to tell him about some little piece of metal which probably had nothing to do with Toni’s death in any case.
If he could have foreseen the way in which possession of that emblem would affect his life in the next few days, he would certainly have been only too anxious to hand it over to the police as soon as possible.