Charmer's Death (Temptation in Florence Book 2) (14 page)

“American tourist strangled with unbreakable nylons!”

The sunny morning eclipsed. Carlina froze in mid-movement and stared at the small booth on the corner of the street, where the newspaper hung, its headline screaming at passers-by. Not one newspaper, oh, no, dozens in crooked rows, hung like washing on a line. And every single one showed her frowning face, a blurred snapshot, with the distinctive Temptation logo in the background.
They must have taken it yesterday when I left the store.
She had never even noticed a photographer on the street. “She sold the murder weapon.” It said in black capitals below her picture.

“
Madonna.” Carlina forced herself to walk to the tiny newspaper booth in spite of her weak knees. “I'd like one of the Quotidiano, please.” She pointed at the blurred picture of her face.

The old man plucked the Quotidiano from its position and handed it to her without looking up. Then he stretched out his other hand. The fingertips were blue from the cold. “One Euro thirty.”

As she took the paper, she met his gaze.

His eyes widened. “It's you.” He swallowed so hard, his Adam's apple visibly jumped up and down. His hand started to tremble. “It's you!”

She tried a smile, but could feel it coming out as a frozen grimace. “I'm afraid so.”

Every wrinkle on the old man's face stretched into a false smile. “Don't do anything to me.”

“Of course not.” Carlina sounded more exasperated than soothing. “I didn't kill him.” She dropped the coins into his hand, but it was shaking so hard that a twenty cent piece dropped to the ground, behind the newspapers stacked in front of the salesman.

The old man didn't seem to notice. His pale eyes remained fixed on her face, and he backed off one step. “Go away.”

Carlina bit her lip. She nodded and whipped around, clutching the newspaper like a lifeline.

At Temptation, she spread the paper onto the sales counter and read the whole lurid story. “A new lead has come up in the murder of the rich American Trevor V. Accanto. Until yesterday, we only knew that he had been strangled inside the Basilica di Santa Trìnita on December 18, but now our latest inside information reveals that the killer had a warped sense of humor: The American, who took a different lover in Florence on every Christmas vacation, was strangled with a pair of unbreakable nylons - one entanglement too much! The owner of the exclusive lingerie store Temptation, Carlina Ashley (see our picture to the right), sold the unusual murder weapon. She knew the victim but claims to have had no knowledge of the murder at the Basilica Santa Trìnita. The Italian police are closely cooperating with Switzerland, France, and the US in this murder as experts are investigating an international angle. Will the nylon-murderer continue, looking for unfaithful men all over Florence? Has she already picked out the next victim? Has your wife bought unbreakable nylons from Temptation on Via de' Tornabuoni? If yes, you'd better avoid dark places! Stay tuned . . . we'll keep you updated!”

Carlina's hand covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes wide. This was worse than she'd thought.

She lifted her head and stared unseeing at two teenage girls who were leaning against the shop window of Temptation, shadowing their faces right and left with their hands, peering inside. The second Carlina moved, they screamed and ran away.
Oh, my God.

Her cell phone rang.

She checked the display and pounced on it like a cat. “Have you seen the Quotidiano?”

“
This minute.” Garini's voice was grim.

“
What should I do?” Her voice rose to a hysterical pitch.

“
I assume you're not willing to close the shop, are you?” His voice remained calm.

Carlina reared back. “Of course not! It's suicide to close a retail store three days before Christmas!”

“I didn't expect any other answer.” He sounded resigned. “But you are aware that thousands of curious people will flock to your store and maybe even a nut-case or two?”

Carlina swallowed heard. “I guess. But I can't close anyway.”

Silence.

She could not even hear him breathe.

Ricciarda came through the door, looking wind-blown and lovely. She smiled at Carlina and went to the back to hang up her coat.

Carlina forced herself to return the smile, then concentrated again on the phone. “Do you have any idea who leaked the information to the press, Stefano?”

“I do.” He was quiet for a minute, then added. “Listen, I'll send you Piedro for the day.”

“
Piedro? Isn't that your assistant, the one who's a little slow?”

He made a sound in his throat. “A little slow is the understatement of the year. Compared to him, a snail moves with lighting speed. He's the worst assistant I've ever had.”

“Oh.”

“
I want him to stand in front of your window and check the people going in and out. I'll also tell him to keep an eye on everything that goes on inside the store. If you feel in any way threatened, just give him a sign, will you? I'm sorry I can't send anybody else.”

“
But he'll freeze to death, standing all day outside Temptation!”

“
If he does, I hope it'll hurt.” Stefano's voice remained calm. “He's the one who's responsible for all the crap in the Quotidiano.”

Carlina gasped. “Piedro did that? But how? Why?”

“Apparently, he met an old school friend yesterday; they had a bit of a good time, and in all innocence, or so he claims, he told him about the case. The good friend forgot to mention that he worked for the Quotidiano, though Piedro could have made some connection when he murmured something about being a free-lance journalist.”

“
Gosh.” Carlina pushed the newspaper toward Ricciarda who had come back from the storage area. “Read this,” she whispered and turned her back to her assistant, looking out of the window. Two men in business suits hurried past. One looked up at the name above the door, then dug the other in the ribs and pointed at the advertising sign for the nylons. “Mai più smagliature! No more runs!” Grinning, they both moved on.

Something inside Carlina twisted. She remembered her pride when the logo of Temptation had been etched into the glass above the door, picturing it as a synonym for beauty and luxury. Now it was a synonym for murder.

“Carlina?” Garini's voice sounded concerned. “Are you all right?”

“
Yeah.” Carlina pressed her lips together. “Did Piedro tell you all this voluntarily?” If he had done that, he was more courageous than she had ever suspected.

“
Let say I extracted it bit by bit.”

“
I see.” Carlina watched a woman stopping in front of the window. With her head hunched between her shoulders to protect herself from the cold, the woman looked at the advertising for nylons and narrowed her eyes, then shook her head and moved on.

Carlina pressed her lips together. “You can send Piedro over right now. The second a madman tries to kill me, I'll push him forward, so he can take my place.”

She hung up and turned around.

Ricciarda looked up from the paper, her eyes huge. “Wow. What an accumulation of filth.”

“Yes.” Carlina clenched her teeth. “And what rotten timing. Everybody with nothing to do will flock to Temptation today. To make it look as if they are serious buyers, they'll try on everything in sight or pretend to need extensive advice, when all they want to do is ogle me and the store.”

Ricciarda frowned. “It's unfair.”

“Yes.” Carlina lifted both shoulders. “We should convert Temptation to a souvenir-shop and sell buttons with a great slogan. Something like 'I was in the store where they sell unbreakable nylons as a murder weapon'. Then we could sell them for five Euros a piece.” She snorted. “I bet I'd be a millionaire tonight.”

Ricciarda gave her an encouraging smile. “I'm sure it won't be as bad as that.”

“Let's hope not. I--” Carlina broke off and stared into space. “But what am I saying? Of course!”

Ricciarda blinked. “You'll make the buttons?”

“Not the buttons!” Carlina grinned. “But we can take the Temptation cups instead. Do you remember them?”

“
The espresso cups with the golden Temptation logo? I thought you'd reserved them as gifts for good customers?”

“
Yes.” Carlina already reached for the telephone and started to dial. “But I had to order much more than I wanted in order to get the customized version. They're at my apartment, and thankfully, they're packed in small boxes, so they're not too heavy. I'll call Uncle Teo to bring them. We can build them into the decoration, and we'll sell them for fifteen Euros per piece.” She started to chant, speaking like a vegetable seller at the market. “Come here, Signore, Signori, we have the perfect souvenir from the murderous store in old-town Florence.” She stuck the phone between her shoulder and her ear while at the same time clearing some space on the sales counter for the cups. “Uncle Teo? It's Carlina. I need a favor from you - I wanted to ask if you could bring me the boxes with espresso cups from my apartment. You helped me to carry them upstairs some weeks ago, do you remember?”

“
I'm so sorry, Carlina, but I don't have time today.” Uncle Teo panted as if he had been running.

In the background, Carlina could hear a familiar sounding ping. She frowned. She knew that sound. What was it? “Where are you, Uncle Teo?”

“Oh, I'm on my way to see a friend.”

Now she knew. The ping was the sound the bus made if you pulled the cable overhead to make it stop. “You're going by bus?” Carlina couldn't stop herself from sounding incredulous. Uncle Teo hated public transport.

“Em. “ Uncle Teo cleared his throat. “I really have to go now, Carlina. I'm sorry I can't help today. Some other time, all right?”

“
I . . .”

He hung up before she could finish the sentence.

“Wow.” Carlina shook her head. “How odd.” Now that she came to think of it, Uncle Teo had seemed very busy yesterday, and there was an air of suppressed excitement about him, as if he knew a secret. She frowned. Maybe he was planning a special Christmas surprise?
Heaven forbid.

“
We could ask Annalisa to bring the cups.” Ricciarda had overheard the exchange.

“
Good idea.” Carlina looked at her watch. “Where is she anyway? We said she should be here by nine thirty.” She punched in Annalisa's cell phone number and waited until she heard a sleepy reply. “Good morning, sunshine,” she said. “This is your employer speaking. You were supposed to be at work a quarter of an hour ago.”

“
Gosh, Carlina, don't be so unfeeling.” Annalisa spoke low, her words slurred together. “I had an awful night and simply didn't feel like getting up early.”

Anger shot up like a geyser inside Carlina. “I know a perfect recipe to get over this kind of problem, Annalisa. Get your butt out of bed and start to work. There's nothing like a bit of diversion to get over your troubles.”

Ricciarda gave her a startled glance.

Carlina stopped herself short. She didn't often lose her tempter like that, but her nerves felt like chewed strings.

“How dare you speak to me like that?” Annalisa's shriek came through the phone loud and clear. “After all I've been through!”

Carlina took a deep breath. “I apologize. I'm a bit stressed out myself.”

“How you can be stressed out when you've no idea what I've been going through and--”

“
Annalisa.” Carlina concentrated on making her voice sound calm and in control. “I need your help. Right now.”

“
What?” Her cousin was wide awake now. “Has anything happened?”

“
Not really. It's just that the whole town will walk by Temptation today to check out what I look like because a dirty newspaper featured me as the most-likely murderer of Trevor.” To her horror, her voice broke.

“
What?” Annalisa seemed flabbergasted.

“
That's why I need the espresso cups with the Temptation logo from my apartment.” Carlina hastily continued. “I plan to sell them to every sensation-hungry person who dares to show his nose in my store.”

“
You want to cash in on Trevor's murder?” Annalisa's voice dropped to a whisper. “How mean is that? How can you only think of money when the most wonderful man on earth is dead?”

Carlina closed her eyes. The thought of selling the espresso cups had helped her to bear the thought of getting through the day. So maybe it was callous, but her behavior wasn't worse than that of the people she expected, and if they blocked up her store, she would lose more turnover than she could ever make with the stupid cups. Didn't Annalisa get that? “Whatever you say, Annalisa.” A sudden tiredness swamped her. “You do whatever it takes to make you happy. I wish you good luck.” She hung up, swallowed a lump in her throat, and turned to Ricciarda. “Am I callous if I sell the cups?”

Ricciarda shrugged. “You don't force anybody to buy them. The customers make up their minds what they want. I don't see anything wrong with that.”