Free Foreign Deceit by Jeff Carson Page A

Rosenwald. No, I don’t have his number. But I know where he works. It’s called the Merate Observatory , I think, or the Osservatorio di Merate I guess it would be named in Italian?”
    “Have you heard from him at all?”
    “No.” She shook her head.  
    “Okay, so, what was he supposed to do with Matthew that night, do you know?”
    “He said they were just going out for a few drinks. They usually went out about once a week together. Matthew’s from Australia, and they met through a friend of mine. They kind of hit it off because they could speak English together, and they both like to drink beer.” She laughed.
    He pulled a slip of paper from his pocket. “Do you know this bar?”
    She looked at the receipt for the Albastru Pub. “Yes. It is actually a Romanian bar.”
    “Have you been there?”
    “Once with John, and actually with David.”  
    Wolf’s thought’s were burning through the fog of jet lag, excited to have a good direction to take tomorrow.  
    He put the slip of paper back in his pocket. “The Caribinieri said you heard something downstairs on the night of his death?”
    “I did. I heard a crash and went downstairs and knocked on his door. But it was dark underneath his door, and it was locked. I just started to think I probably heard something else, outside, or from across the hall, or something. I just went back upstairs and went to sleep.” Her eyes were wide, staring, unblinking.  
    “When was that?”
    “It was 1:15 in the morning. I remember looking at the clock when I heard the crash.”  
    “There’s nothing you could have done,” he whispered.
    She nodded her head, staring at her hands.  
    “So you talked to the Caribinieri the next day?”
    “Ummm…no. I talked to them on Sunday. When he didn’t call me, or respond to my texts, or answer his door all day Saturday, I started getting worried.”
    “Oh, yeah, okay. Sunday.” He rubbed his temples. His mind was struggling to keep details straight. His body demanded sleep. “Let’s see, so, what did you tell the Caribinieri?”
    She looked to the ceiling. “Not that much. One guy was just asking if I saw or heard anything the night of his death. I just told him about what I heard, and how I came down and knocked. I told them how he didn’t answer my calls, or my knocking, and how he stood me up for our date, and that’s why I was concerned.   Then…well, that was pretty much it. A couple of officers were just waiting outside my door. They said they had a special counselor coming for me to talk. I didn’t want to wait around to speak to some government worker who doesn’t know me, or didn’t know John. I just walked out.”  
    “Yeah, I understand. I don’t blame you,” he said. “Did they ask about drugs?”
    She looked confused. “No, not at all. I didn’t know about the drugs until just now.”  
    A warm blanket of exhaustion wrapped around Wolf again. He’d had enough. His body needed rest. There was no use fighting it any more.
    “Are you going to be around in the next couple days?”  
    “I have to work during the daytimes, but I am usually home at night.”
    “All right. I may need some help with some things this weekend. We’ll see.” He went back to his brother’s apartment thinking about the Friday deadline for Lia’s help.  

Chapter 15

    Wolf picked up his backpack and went into his brother’s room. He put his bag down and exhaled, staring at the bed. “I’m sure these sheets are dirty as shit,” he said out loud to John. Pulling the comforter back, he confirmed his suspicion.  
    There was a set of sheets on the shelf in the bathroom closet. They smelled nice and washed, but there were no pillow cases.  
    Looking in John’s bedroom closet bore no fruit. He stood, shaking his head, marveling at the anal retentive organization. The assortment of clothing was meticulously separated into dark and light segments, coats in a separate segment still. John’s six pairs of shoes were