Free The Absolution by Jonathan Holt

professional.”
    â€œIsn’t that difficult? Given that you still work together quite closely?”
    â€œNo,” she snapped. “It’s actually a lot easier than gossiping like a couple of old women.” She pulled out a ten-euro note and threw it on the counter. “Come on. We’ve got work to do.”

TEN
    THANKFULLY, BAGNASCO PROVED more adept at filling in Budget Requisitions, Overtime Projections, Evidence Collection Protocols and all the other forms needed to make the Carabinieri’s labyrinthine bureaucracy creak into action than she was at inspecting crime scenes or interviewing witnesses. Kat left her to it, and went to break the news of Cassandre’s death to his wife.
    Signora Cassandre turned out to be a more elegant woman than the photograph on her husband’s desk had suggested, impeccably dressed and well mannered even in the midst of shock. At one point she clutched Kat’s arm and asked what would happen to her apartment. It was a curious thing to mention at such a time, so Kat asked what she was concerned about.
    â€œThe mortgages,” Signora Cassandre whispered anxiously. “I had to sign them. But he said it was only for a short time.”
    Kat made a mental note to have an officer go through Cassandre’s personal bank accounts. If he was money laundering, where had the proceeds gone? His lifestyle, she surmised from the elegance of his apartment, along with its location in one of the most fashionable parts of San Marco, was lavish, but hardly more so than one would expect of a senior partner in a Venetian bank. And then there had been allthat money on the memory sticks. If that wasn’t Cassandre’s, whose was it? A client’s?
    She escorted Signora Cassandre to the morgue for the formal identification. Hapadi had placed wooden blocks under the victim’s head and a folded cloth over the gaping wound in the neck. Even so, the removal of the tongue had caused the cheeks and mouth to swell and twist grotesquely. Signora Cassandre took a careful look before confirming in a steady voice that it was her husband. One should never underestimate, Kat reflected, the sang-froid of old money. Hapadi, by way of contrast, looked deeply uncomfortable.
    Back at Campo San Zaccaria, she checked over what Bagnasco had done and had to grudgingly admit to being impressed. She did spot one glaring mistake, however.
    â€œI asked for five officers and twenty carabinieri . That’s standard for a homicide. You’ve listed three officers and eight carabinieri .”
    Bagnasco nodded. “Allocation are saying that’s all that’s available.”
    Kat went straight to General Saito. “As you said yourself, this is clearly going to be a big and complex investigation,” she reminded him. “We’ll probably need to bring in financial experts from the Guardia di Finanza. And because of the Masonic angle, people may be reluctant to talk to us – we’ll need more resources than usual, not fewer.”
    Saito held up a hand to forestall her. “It’s August, Captain. In case you hadn’t noticed, everyone’s away. But when you mention Freemasons . . . Let me caution you against jumping to conclusions. There’s no direct evidence yet that Freemasonry had a bearing on your victim’s death, as I understand it.”
    â€œYou’re probably not aware of the latest developments,sir.” She filled him in on the calling cards they’d found at Cassandre’s office and the USB stick full of electronic money. “My working hypothesis is that he was involved in financial crimes, in the course of which he may have swindled or otherwise betrayed some of his fellow Freemasons. That’s why they killed him in a way that reflected the wording of their oath.”
    â€œWas he wearing a watch when he was found?”
    â€œNo,” she said, puzzled by this sudden change of tack.
    â€œSo a far more