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

Italy? Cam had told me not to marry the guy in the first place, but at least he’s been decent enough not to keep reminding me.”

“And what has been your routine since you got to Campiglio?”

“What you would expect on a ski holiday, though for Cam it’s been a combination of business and pleasure.”

“How so?”

“Cam was meeting with someone involved in real estate regarding a possible loan from the bank where he works.” This got another look from the policeman. “He didn’t give me any details, of course.”

“Well,” said Rick, “it’s a good way to write off some of the expenses for the trip.”

For the first time Cat Taylor laughed, and it was not endearing. “Let me tell you something about my brother, Rick. He attended parochial school and then went on to fulfill his dream of graduating from Notre Dame. He stayed on in South Bend to study international business. One of the basic precepts that was drummed into his head in business school was the importance of ethics. He takes the morality of business dealings very seriously. So, in response to what you said, I know for certain that he would never go on a ski trip and write it off as business expense because of some short meeting with someone. Even if the bank allowed it.”

Rick was impressed. “He sounds like a very—”

She raised her hand to interrupt. “Ah, but unfortunately this high moral posturing only counts in his work. His personal life is a different story.”

By now the policeman was concentrating on her face. His pen rested on the pad.

“Are you talking about the way he treats you?” Rick asked.

“The way he treats me is of no real importance. I’ve been able to defend myself since I was in grade school.” The two men continued to stare at her, waiting. “Let me put it this way. When this job in his bank’s Milan office came up, he jumped at it. After all, he had done a semester abroad in Rome as an undergraduate at Notre Dame and spoke passable Italian. But the real reason he was so enthusiastic was that it would get him out of town, way out of town, far from not just one but two women.” She laid her right arm carefully over the back of the chair and smirked.

Rick was intrigued. Why is this woman talking this way about her missing brother? Apparently Luca had the same thought, and he spoke softly into the ear of his trusted interpreter who listened and then turned back to Catherine Taylor.

“Cat, we seem to have gotten off track. Can we get into the details of what your brother did since you arrived here? He’s the one the inspector is here to find.”

“Of course.” She gazed at the ceiling to gather her thoughts and Luca once again readied his pen and pad. “We drove up Wednesday from Milan after lunch and got here just as it was getting dark. There was no food in the apartment so we went out to a restaurant for dinner.”

“Just the two of you?”

“Yes. I wasn’t very hungry, and was still tired from the flight since I’d arrived that morning. I’m not very good with jet lag. I’m still not sleeping through the night and need a nap in the late afternoon. Cam naturally tries to keep me going all day, says it’s the only way to beat it.”

Rick tried to keep her on topic. “The next day?”

“Thursday we skied in the morning and had some lunch on the mountain. After eating we skied down, I stayed in, and Cam went to his meeting. Before you came I was trying to recall the man’s name since I knew you’d ask, and all I can remember is that Cam said his name meant pomegranate.”

“Melograno.”

“That’s it. Funny that people would be called pomegranate. Although I had a friend at boarding school whose last name was Pear.” She stopped and looked at Rick. “You didn’t translate what I just said for the inspector?”

“No I didn’t. What about Thursday night?”

“Cam had picked up some food after his meeting in the afternoon so we ate here. Then he went out and I read a book and went to sleep early. Of course I woke up in the middle of the night. I told you I have a problem—”

“With jet lag. Yes you did. Do you know where your brother went that night?”

“He went to a bar, but I don’t know which one. Since he’s spent a lot of time up here in the last year he’s become familiar with the nightlife, such as it is, in this town.”

“Did he mention who he talked to, or anything about what happened in the bar?”

A satisfied smile came to her face. “Normally he wouldn’t tell me anything, but the next morning I found out that he’d met a woman in the bar, and they’d hit it off quite well.”

Rick was about to ask if the woman was in the apartment when Cam woke up, but decided against it. “How was it you found out?”

“When we went skiing we ran into her. Or she spotted Cam and ran into us. I don’t understand Italian, of course, but I could tell by her tone of voice, and his, that there was something there. When he introduced me to her he said they’d been together the night before.”

“What was her name?”

“That, I remember. Gina Cortese. The name fits her.”

Rick wasn’t sure what she meant by the comment, and from Luca’s expression he didn’t either, despite a good translation. “So he picked up this Gina Cortese in the bar.”

“No, I didn’t mean to give that impression. He already knew her from previous visits here. In fact he said he’d met her the first summer he came up to Campiglio for the hiking, a year and a half ago. That was when he decided to rent a place. I doubt if Cam’s latest girlfriend in Milan knows about her, but that’s typical of my