Free Errant Angels by Stuart Fifield Page B

and had become somewhat apprehensive when he had learned of Rome’s growing interest.
    â€˜Benito, caro ,’ she said, kissing him lightly on the mouth, ‘come… Let me fix you a glass of something.’
    He followed her as she walked through the kitchen and out onto the broad terrace that ran along the south side of the villa. The views out and over Lucca were almost as splendid as were the diamonds on her fingers.
    â€˜A glass of wine, beer … or perhaps something stronger?’ she asked, crossing to a small bar at the far end of theterrace. ‘Did it go well?’ she asked over her shoulder. ‘You were gone for a long time.’
    She did not mention that it would have been helpful for her to have known the previous day that business would be keeping him in Montecatini for another night. As it was, she had not been able to capitalize on the opportunity.
    â€˜No, I do not think it did,’ he said. ‘It is all too uncomfortably similar to the cases we had here in Lucca two months ago.’
    He had removed his tie and jacket, which he flung casually onto one of the cane chairs, before flopping wearily down into one of the others. One thing Benito di Senno could not be accused of within his marriage was keeping his wife out of the picture. Of course, he was far too discreet a professional to tell her everything, but what he felt he could tell her was more than enough to make her feel something special, someone important.
    â€˜You mean those two murdered women?’ she asked, passing him a glass of ice-cold beer.
    He nodded once and took the glass from her. ‘There is no proof as yet, but yes; there was another young woman who had been strangled. But this time she had been raped first. That is what is different from the two women who were strangled here in Lucca. This recent victim was an innocent tourist who was presumably visiting the Baths … from Germany. Thanks for this, cara ,’ he paused and took a long draught of the beer. He looked tired. ‘Rome has become involved. “ Potentially diplomatically embarrassing ” was how they put it this morning.’ He took another mouthful of the cold beer. ‘The Carabinieri are going to be looking into this latest case as well. The diplomatic element makes it far too serious to leave it to the polizia to get to the bottom of … apparently. That is Rome’s opinion, not mine.’
    Renata looked at her husband with mild curiosity.Although she benefited materially from his hard work and position, she had never understood what made a person spend their life working with something like the law, which was a concept she found lifeless and impersonal. She had always been excited by the enjoyment of her singing – not to mention the recent enjoyment of Riccardo’s regular, throbbing arousal, which was even more memorable than hitting a brilliant high C at the end of an aria. All poor Benito had to contend with was one boring criminal case after another and a large criminal element that seemed to have learned nothing from past police successes.
    â€˜So, now I think I should go into town and file some reports about Montecatini and see if anything else has come in.’
    â€˜Must you?’ whined Renata. ‘How long will you be gone? I have prepared a meal for us,’ she said, wondering how far the cook had got with it. ‘It is such a beautiful day and I thought it would be nice to go for a stroll.’
    Riccardo Fossi had told her that he had to go to Torre del Lago for the day to visit his aged aunt, so there was no chance of a repeat matinee performance of Thursday night’s frolic.
    â€˜I am sorry, tesoro ,’ he said, picking up his jacket and tie before bending down and kissing her, ‘but you know what they say about time and crime waiting for no man. I’ll take a quick shower and then I’ll be off.’
    â€˜Do you need any help?’ asked Renata