Free Daggers and Men's Smiles by Jill Downie Page A

or leaving.”
    â€œLeaving — oh my poor, darling Toni! It was always such a chance we took, with the marchesa so close, but we could not keep away from each other — you know how it is.”
    Moretti was aware of a quizzical glance in his direction from his partner.
    â€œDid you meet on Rastrellamento , or had you known each other before?”
    â€œWe met on the first day and it was what the French call ‘ coup de foudre ,’ Inspector.”
    â€œForgive me, Miss Salviati,” said Moretti, “but — you are a very beautiful woman. You must have had men making passes at you, falling in love with you, at every step. What was different about Toni Albarosa, that you would risk an affair with a man married to the daughter of the marchesa, who was on the premises, and who clearly has a position of importance on this project?”
    Vittoria Salviati swung around from the mirror on her swivel chair, giving both officers a glimpse of slim brown legs beneath her cotton wrap as she did so.
    â€œThat’s just it — he didn’t make a pass at me. He just looked at me so sweetly with his big eyes, and told me — oh, the most beautiful things you can imagine! For a whole week before he slept with me! Oh, I’m sure this is all my fault. I’m sure this has something to with that bitch of a wife of his, or that bitch of a mother-in-law of his, or both of them!”
    â€œI don’t think you need blame yourself for his death in that way, Miss Salviati. I think that Mr. Albarosa was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Did he ever say anything to you about anything he might have seen or heard during those nightly visits? Outside in the grounds, I mean?”
    â€œNo. Mostly we didn’t talk once he got to my room.”
    Moretti could think of no adequate response to this.
    â€œDoes everyone have to know?” Vittoria Salviati leaned forward anxiously in her chair, affording Moretti a generous glimpse of her much-photographed and beautiful bosom.
    â€œNot immediately, but when we find who is responsible, the reason for Mr. Albarosa’s presence on the terrace at that hour may come out in court.”
    There was a knock on the door and the makeup artist put his head into the room. “Miss Salviati’s due on the set in half an hour and — oh my God!”
    With a wail and a shriek he ran across and held the actress’s face between his hands.
    â€œVittoria sweetie, what have they done to you, what have they said to you!” He turned and looked accusingly at Moretti and Liz Falla, the brutal sulliers of his handiwork. “Look at this mess — she’s got mascara and lipstick on her chin , for God’s sakes. I’m going to have to start all over again.”
    At the foot of the trailer steps Liz Falla stopped and looked at Moretti.
    â€œThat Albarosa had a great act going, eh, Guv? Believe you me, that one works much better than that sleaze Ensor’s slimy gropings.”
    â€œI believe you,” said Moretti. “I want to talk to Monty Lord next, but first we’ll head back into St. Peter Port, and I’ll drop you off at the station. If Chief Officer Hanley asks where I am, you can tell him I’m making further enquiries.”
    â€œRight, Guv.”
    â€œOkay, DC Falla, give me your first impressions,” Moretti said, as the police car pulled in to the side of a narrow lane to allow one of the town buses through. Through the open window Liz Falla called out cheerily to the driver as he passed.
    â€œWell, first of all, I agree with the costume lady — find out why daggers and we’re on our way. But I’m not sure I agree about the past. The French say ‘ coup de foudre ,’ like Vittoria Salviati said, but they also say ‘ cherchez la femme ,’ don’t they? I think it’s all about sex myself.”
    â€œYou may be right.” Moretti smiled. His partner’s