Free temptation in florence 03 - bankers death by Beate Boeker

to go to bed. She was so tired that every step upstairs was a conscious effort. At the same time, she dreaded going back to her apartment, the scene of the crime. Simonetta had told her that they had re-arranged everything and that she would be fine, but she still felt like a dog that had its basket taken away without replacement. “Can't it wait until tomorrow?”
    “No.” Fabbiola shook her head. “We're busy constructing our alibis, and you need to learn yours.”
    Oh, Madonna. Carlina shook her head. “No way.”
    “Yes!” Fabbiola grabbed her arm and pulled her inside. “Don't prevaricate.”
    Carlina decided that it took less energy to go along and followed her mother to Benedetta's kitchen, where the rest of the family, including Simonetta and Maria, were assembled. It smelled heavenly of fresh focaccia bread with black olives and bits of spicy pepperoni. Carlina saw the bread wrapped up in fresh towels in a corner of the kitchen. Obviously, Benedetta had decided to start a counter-offensive on the battlefield of bread.
    Fabbiola, who wisely ignored her sister's mouth-watering bread, pulled up a sheet of paper, sharpened a pencil with the air of someone who's about to do an act of major importance, and lifted her head. “We'll burn this paper later. Let's start with Leo.”
    Benedetta jumped. “Why should you start with Leo? Why not with yourself, or Carlina, or . . . ?”
    Carlina blinked. What on earth was happening to Benedetta? Had Fabbiola's health food period, combined with Ernesto's bungee-jumping, destroyed all her usual equilibrium? She had never seen Benedetta so out of kilter.
    “I was going through the house apartment by apartment,” Fabbiola said with dignity. “And I was starting on the ground floor, that's all. We can also start with Teo, if you should prefer that.”
    “No, no, that's fine.” Leopold Morin gave Fabbiola a soothing smile and laid a placating hand on Benedetta's arm. “I was at the library.”
    “When?”
    Leopold opened his eyes wide. “When? Well, when the murder was done, of course.”
    Fabbiola frowned at the slight Frenchman. “But how do you know when the murder was done?”
    “I object to this.” Benedetta snapped. “You are behaving as if you're the boss in this family, and it sounds as if you're all accusing us of murder. Thanks, but no thanks. I won't have anything to do with it.” She jumped up and left the room. Leo shrugged and followed her with an apologetic look.
    “Well, I say . . .” Fabbiola shook her head. “Now how are we going to arrange our alibis?”
    Carlina felt a headache coming on. “I don't want to make up an alibi. I want to tell Garini the truth.”
    “Have you gone crazy?” Her mother stared at her. “You want to tell him there was a half-naked man in your room, together with a bottle of champagne? Any lie is better than that!”
    Carlina closed her eyes. “I know, but I'm bushed. Whatever we agree on tonight, I'll forget it anyway until tomorrow. So don't count me in. Good night.” She got up and left the room as fast as she could, before anybody could stop her. Let them figure out how to do this. She'd had enough.

Chapter 5
    I
    Stefano Garini clenched his teeth. He knew he was not going to relish the conversation with his boss, but it had to be done. He lifted his hand and knocked on the door.
    “Come in.” Cervi's voice sounded half-asleep, as usual in the early morning.
    Stefano opened the door and went in. “Buongiorno, Signor Cervi.”
    “Buongiorno, buongiorno.” Cervi waved at the chair opposite his desk and frowned. “Take a seat and make it short. I have an important meeting in half an hour.”
    That suits me. “Yesterday evening, I was alerted by a member of the Mantoni family that Valentino Canderini, a cousin, had been stabbed. He was found in front of the family home on Via delle Pinzochere.”
    Cervi narrowed his eyes. “Did you say Mantoni? Not that same family again?”
    Stefano suppressed his