The Body in the Piazza - By Katherine Hall Page Page 0,46
but by the time I got through the door—you wouldn’t believe how crowded the place was—he was gone. I looked around for a while, but it was hopeless.”
“Besides jumping on a train, it would have been easy enough to come back out another door and take a bus. Or just walk away.”
“And if he’s a native Florentine, he would know the area surrounding the station.”
“You didn’t see Olivia there?”
“No. The next I saw her was in the van.”
“She didn’t look out of breath, as if she’d been running,” Faith said. “Although her cheeks were a little red, which could just be her natural color under that white makeup.”
“You can see why I had no idea who she was at first.”
“So, what do we do now?”
“Swim, shower—and keep an eye on Olivia,” Tom said.
Excerpt from Faith Fairchild’s travel journal:
I feel as if we have been in Italy for weeks rather than days. And here at Cucina della Rossi it’s only been a little over 24 hours. Time has become elastic and there has been so much happening that it’s stretched almost to the breaking point.
Am going to start carrying my notebook with me. Don’t want to leave it lying around. Is that what Freddy did? And is that why his is missing?
I believe Tom. When he’s sure, he’s sure. So we know Freddy’s killer has turned up in Florence and equally sure we don’t know where he is now. Probably long gone. He’d been recognized, crazy for him to stay. He’d assume Tom would go straight to the police. We talked about whether he should or maybe tell the whole story to the Rossis and ask them what to do. But there’s no point. I doubt the police here, or in Rome, would believe that Tom could have identified the killer. It was dark etc. We’d hear again that Freddy was the victim of a mugging gone wrong. And no point in upsetting the Rossis. What could they actually do?
The big question mark is Olivia. Was she simply asking the man for directions? He’s not bad-looking. Or is there a closer connection? A connection back to Rome and Freddy? She was staying in the same hotel at the same time as he was—and the same time he was murdered. For that matter, everyone here was. Although I never saw Sky and Jack there, they seemed to be every other place we went with Freddy. Francesca suggested the hotel in the materials she sent out, so it’s likely they were there, too. Spending a lot of time in their room?
Tom doesn’t think the group has secrets. He got a rude awakening today when he saw Olivia. And the others? It’s no secret that the Russos are having major marital problems, but why? What did he do? What lie, or lies, did he tell that made his wife buy the Pinocchio? Was it the same ol’, same ol’—an affair? Maybe she found out just before the trip and the plane tickets were nonrefundable? Can’t imagine traveling with someone under those circumstances, sharing a room, let alone a bed. The matrimoniale in our room is big, but not that big.
The Culvers seem to be just what and who they are—aunt and niece of certain ages intent on bargains, even if that means a little skulduggery.
But Jack? Haven’t quite figured out how to tell Tom what happened. You never know with men. He might demand pistols at dawn—or he might just laugh. Why did Sky look so frightened on the way back? Jack must have told her who he saw and whoever he was, he’s somehow a threat. The contents of the bags she was carrying could pay off the debt of any number of small nations. Where are the Californians getting their funds?
Tom’s in the shower. The pool is wonderful and we had it to ourselves. Len had disappeared, thank goodness. Swimming under the Tuscan sun with the smell of jasmine in the air is just what we needed. It would all be so perfect if it wasn’t so not perfect. That’s the only way I can describe it. Far from perfect. The water stopped. Time for cocktails on the terrace.
Faith stood sipping a Campari and soda with a twist of lime, trying to figure out how to introduce the question of Jack’s and Sky’s occupations into the flow of conversation when Len Russo beat her to it.
“So what do you do out there in California, Jack?”