Death in the Dolomites David Wagner (each kindness read aloud .TXT) 📖

one man, still clomping about, but now on his third pair of ski boots. “Riccardo, we should let Signor Bauer get back to his clients. Is business good, Signor Bauer?”

“It could be better, Inspector.”

***

“Let’s stand here in front of the store, Riccardo, where Bauer can see us.” Luca adjusted his hat, a ritual Rick noticed each time they emerged into the open air. “He doesn’t have much of an alibi. But the only motive I can think of is that he was annoyed with Taylor for being with Gina Cortese, which doesn’t seem very strong.”

Rick shrugged as he pulled on his new purchases. “People have killed for less.” He held out one gloved hand, like a woman checking out her new manicure, then squeezed it into a fist before holding it up to his face to sniff the new leather. “Where to next?”

The inspector checked his watch. “We should be just in time to catch Gina Cortese between her classes. They told me she would be up here.” He waved a finger toward the western side of the town.

They crossed back over the street and took the sidewalk past shops and apartment entrances until they reached an alley that led up to a set of scuffed wooden steps. At their top an open expanse of snow spread out where three ski trails ended and a four-seat chairlift picked up the skiers to take them back up to the top.

Among the kilometers of trails that cut through the forests on the three sides above Campiglio, the most difficult ones ended here. Thanks to a gentle final slope, one wide section at the end of the trails was filled with beginners, mostly children, taking their lessons. They were divided into small, chattering packs, each herded by an instructor. The kids had to learn to get up the hill before they could try to get down, so a short lift next to the line of trees served that purpose. Its cable had plastic discs dangling from the ends of poles that the operators patiently slipped between the legs of each small skier to take them up. Most kids mastered it immediately, riding the pole to the top before letting go, but along the way a few lost their balance and crumpled to the ground. They formed a line of wriggling snow-covered debris awaiting rescue.

Wearing a headband and goggles, Gina Cortese was easy to pick out from among the various instructors. Her diminutive charges, five in total, lined up behind her as she skied diagonally in wide arcs, urging them to imitate her exaggerated moves. Rick and Luca waited at the bottom of the run, their civilian clothes contrasting with that of the skiers around them. Gina reached the bottom, gave some final instructions to her class, and pushed herself toward the two men who were starting to stamp their feet to keep warm. She had spotted them on the way down, which was easy to do.

“You are waiting for me, I suppose?” She pushed her goggles to the top of her head.

“That is correct, Signora Cortese,” Luca answered. “I had a couple more questions. You have the time now?”

“I do. My next lesson doesn’t start for fifteen minutes. I imagine you want to ask me about Elio. He’s got to be one of the suspects in this.”

She gave the policeman a probing look, awaiting an answer. Rick was trying to remember who this Elio was, and from the initial expression on his face, so was Luca, who then responded. “Ah, your ex-husband. You believe the mayor should be a suspect in this crime?”

“If he’s not involved directly, he has to know who did it. He knows everything that goes on in Campiglio. Even before he became mayor he had his nose into everybody’s business.”

“And what would be his motive?” asked Rick, wondering if she would mention her relationship with the dead man before her divorce from the mayor.

“Hell, I don’t know. You’re the detectives, you can figure something out. Cam was a banker, perhaps Elio had some financial deal that didn’t work out. Nothing would surprise me.”

Luca digested her comment. “Refresh my memory about last Saturday, Signora. You didn’t see Signor Taylor that morning, if I remember correctly?”

Her expression tightened. “No. That’s my busiest day of classes. You can check the ski school calendar. They start at ten and I came here immediately after breakfast.”

“You have breakfast at home?”

“No, I always have it at Mitzi’s. It’s close to my morning lessons.” She lifted her ski pole and pointed.

“Yes, we just came from there,” said Luca. “Did Mitzi herself serve you?”

“I can’t remember. Sometimes it’s Mitzi, and sometimes Vittorio, her son. I don’t know which it was that day. No, wait, it was Vittorio. I remember now since he was talking with Bruno when I got there.”

“Bruno Bauer?” said Rick.

“Yes, his store is across the street. He told me the other night that you’d met.”

“Yes, I know Bruno. In fact we just came from his store.”

“You are covering the town well,” Gina said, sliding her skis forward and back. “First Mitzi, then Bruno. You don’t think that he could be involved, do you?” She looked at Luca.

“We went to his store since Riccardo needed new gloves.” Backing up the inspector’s statement, Rick held up his hands and flexed the fingers.

Gina leaned forward on her skis and stretched her back before turning to Rick. “Riccardo…It is Riccardo, isn’t it?”

“That’s right.”

“Riccardo, every time I meet you I become upset. First when you two told me about Cam’s disappearance. Then when you and Flavio saw me across the mountain. Even the other night, when I saw you with Cam’s sister, it reminded me of his death. It’s happening again. And now I have to worry about Bruno.” She pulled her goggles down, either in annoyance to show she wanted the interview to finish, or to hide tears behind the tinted plastic lenses.

“Gina, I’m sorry it had to be this way. But I’m certain you want to find