order of things. Soon he would be home where his wife would have a hearty stew on the table, which he would enjoy with a glass of Sangiovese.
As he rounded the corner, he clocked something in the shadowy road up ahead. He frowned; it looked like a car, abandoned. He approached, stopping just before the vehicle. Switching off his engine, he climbed down and walked over to the car. He saw the wall and whistled. This land belonged to his neighbour, Antonio, who would be most disgruntled at the amount of damage to his wall. This section would need rebuilding completely! The farmer checked up and down the road – night was coming and drivers wouldn’t see the deserted car in the dark. He took his phone out of his pocket and dialled for the police.
TWENTY-ONE
‘Their phones are going straight to voicemail,’ said Lieutenant Baroni. ‘We’ll check the ferry records – see if Abby’s car was registered with any of them.’
‘You think they’ve left the island?’ asked Susanna.
‘It’s possible. Can you show us their rooms?’
‘Why?’
‘They’re looking for bodies,’ said Matteo. ‘They’ll search the whole house.’
Susanna looked from Matteo to Baroni, aghast. ‘You think they’re here? Ellie’s here?’
‘We don’t know anything yet,’ said Baroni with a reprimanding look at Matteo. ‘But if we could see their rooms . . .?’
Susanna stood and led the way upstairs. The Carabinieri followed, with Matteo bringing up the rear. Susanna stopped outside Abby’s room first but, aware Matteo was behind her, didn’t like to encroach any further.
The lieutenant had no such qualms and stepped forward. ‘Have any of her clothes gone?’ she asked.
Matteo uncrossed his arms and went over to the wardrobe, looking inside. ‘I think so. A few.’
‘Anything else you notice?’
‘No.’
Susanna watched from the doorway as the police moved around the room, looking on shelves, opening drawers. Captain Santini moved over to the bed, began to rummage around the bedside cabinet. From the top, he picked up the book Abby must have been reading, turned it upside down and flicked through it, but nothing fell out. He opened the drawer and pulled out a couple more books and a bundle of envelopes.
Santini separated the envelopes from the books and, taking one off the top, tossed the rest on the bed.
‘Hey!’ protested Matteo.
Santini smiled smugly at Matteo, at his look of indignation. He opened the envelope. ‘It is from you?’
‘Nothing in there is useful. Written a year ago. After we’d first met.’
Santini shrugged and began to read, a smirk on his face.
‘We should still check,’ said Lieutenant Baroni, plucking the letter from her colleague’s hands. She pocketed the envelopes, much to Matteo’s frustration, and Susanna braced herself, as it looked as if he was about to object, when Captain Santini spoke again.
‘Well, what do we have here?’
He was crouched on the floor, the door of the cupboard underneath the cabinet open. In his hand was a small yellow plastic container.
‘What’s that?’ Susanna asked, frowning. She couldn’t read the label on the front from the other side of the room.
Baroni took the bottle from her colleague. ‘Weedkiller,’ she said.
Susanna started. ‘Oh my God.’
‘What?’ exclaimed Matteo.
‘Any idea why your wife would keep weedkiller hidden in her bedroom?’ asked Baroni.
Matteo was struggling to answer; confusion riddled his face. ‘I don’t know how that got there. It wouldn’t be Abby . . .’
‘Who would it be?’ asked Baroni matter-of-factly.
‘I don’t know . . . It doesn’t make sense.’
Susanna was beginning to feel sorry for him, but then a sudden thought made itself present in her mind.
‘Ellie was ill,’ she said breathlessly. ‘Night before last. She was feeling terribly unwell.’
She looked up at the bottle of weedkiller with its glaring yellow packaging. ‘You have to find them,’ she urged the police. She started to cry, the salty tears irritating the sunburn on her face. ‘Please. You have to find them.’
Matteo took a deep breath, tried to restore calm. ‘This doesn’t prove anything.’
The lieutenant’s phone rang. She answered. ‘Pronto.’
She spoke in Italian and Susanna was unable to follow the conversation, but she watched Matteo’s face, saw the shadow cross it.
‘What’s happened?’ she asked quickly.
Lieutenant Baroni hung up. ‘Abby’s car has been found. On the mainland. It’s damaged, crashed into a wall.’
Susanna cried out, a sound of anguish. ‘Oh my God. Ellie, is she OK?’
‘There was no one at the scene,’ said the lieutenant. ‘I think it’s of the highest importance that we find your daughters as soon as possible.’
TWENTY-TWO
Lieutenant Colonel Baroni watched as the pickup truck winched Abby Morelli’s car up