temptation in florence 04 - expected in death (7 page)

“Ah! The famous
Commissario
.” Aunt Violetta drove toward him at full speed.

Carlina grabbed his arm. “Don't move,” she hissed. “It's a test.”

Aunt Violetta stopped the electric wheelchair with screeching brakes at the last minute, just before she touched his knees.

“Did you pimp that wheelchair?” Garini couldn't stop himself from asking.

“Of course.” She gave him a wicked grin. “Are you going to arrest me?”

“No.” He returned her gaze, trying to hide his amusement. “Not my department. Am not even sure if there's a law against it.”

“Why are you going out with my Carlina?” Her eyes were milky from age, but the tone of her voice left no doubt that her mind was as sharp as ever.

He realized that a hush had fallen over the assembled family. At least forty people were present in the room that was part of Violetta's ancient villa on the hills north of Florence. The old house would have been intimidating by its sheer size if it wasn't obvious from the cracks in the amber walls and the sagging hinges of the high doors that Aunt Violetta had neglected its upkeep. The room where Violetta greeted her guests must have been a small ballroom in another time, with two glittering chandeliers above them. The sound of clinking glasses, talking and laughter had filled it when he had entered with Carlina, but after Aunt Violetta's question, he could feel the expectant silence.

“I'm going out with Carlina because I admire her.” He didn't have to think about that. Carlina's hand was still in the crook of his arm, and he could feel it tremble. He slanted her a quick glance. She was shaking with laughter, amused about the antics of her family.
Again.

“What exactly do you admire in her?” Aunt Violetta's voice could be heard in the furthest corner of the room, probably as far as the garden beyond the wide open French doors with their peeling paint.

Garini didn't hesitate. “Her gutsiness. Her tenacity. Her loyalty.” Even though the loyalty was for her crazy family and exasperated him more than he could say.

Carlina's hand stopped shaking.

Aunt Violetta gave him a sharp nod. “Good answers.”

He couldn't suppress a smile. “Have I passed muster?”

“You have. But don't rest on your laurels.” Without turning her head, she opened her mouth and bellowed. “Omar!”

A man as tall as Garini himself, all sinewy and muscled, came from the side of the room and stood next to Aunt Violetta. He had dark skin covered with tattoos, eyes so black that it was hard to tell where the pupil ended and the iris began, and he had a shaved head. He reminded Garini of a polished piece of dark wood - but more lethal.

Garini blinked and glanced again at Carlina. She had left out quite a bit of prep talk this time.

“I want to go in to dinner.” Aunt Violetta announced in her voice that made the weak window frames rattle.

Omar lifted her out of the chair like a puppet and put her on her feet. She placed her hand onto his arm and went out of the room in slow steps. The family followed as if it were a religious procession.

“Who on earth is Omar?” Garini whispered into Carlina's ear.

“She adopted him when he was a toddler, during a cruise to Egypt. We have no idea where he came from. He's scary, isn't he?”

“Very.”

“We call him Aunt Violetta's hit man. He never talks, you know. They say he had a traumatic experience in his youth.”

“The adoption, I assume?”

Carlina chuckled. “Before that, you idiot.”

“Why does she sit in a wheelchair if she can walk?”

“She's faster with the wheelchair.”

“I bet.”

Carlina looked around. She waved at her mother who was taking a seat on the other side of the room and nodded at several aunts and uncles. “Funny, I haven't seen Uncle Teo. It's not like him to be late.”

As if on cue, Uncle Teo walked in, accompanied by Olga, who clung to his arm. She was dressed in a flowing dress all in white that strangely resembled a bride's gown. Carlina's eyebrows went up, but before she could do more than register the sudden darkening of her mother's face, Aunt Violetta had noticed the newcomers. “Teo!” she barked. “Come over here and present your friend to me.”

Uncle Teo smiled and obeyed the command with his head held high in pride.

How sweet he is,
Carlina swallowed.
He really deserves another romance. If only it wasn't Olga.

“Violetta, my dear.” Uncle Teo bent forward and kissed Aunt Violetta's wrinkled cheek. “Happy birthday. May I present Olga Ottima to you?”

Aunt Violetta stiffened. Her eyes widened, and she looked at Olga like someone who has discovered a cockroach in her pasta. “Olga Ottima?” Her voice held a menacing tone. “The Olga Ottima?”

Olga tittered. “I'm not quite sure what you mean, but I've never yet met another woman with the same name, so it's possible that you're talking about me. Has my reputation preceded me?”

“Indeed, it has.” Aunt Violetta's voice was dry. She turned her head and looked around the table at the family who didn't even pretend not to listen in. “Fabbiola!”

“Yes, Aunt Violetta?” With nervous fingers, Fabbiola pushed a strand of hair from her face.

“Is this the Olga who gave you such a hard time during your last year at school? The one who--?”

Fabbiola jumped up. “Yes, Aunt Violetta, that's her. But we don't have to discuss this now. It's not quite the right time. After all, it's your birthday and we should celebrate, not dwell on ancient stories.” She bent down, pulled a voluminous parcel from beneath her chair and went around the table, holding her present out to Aunt Violetta. “I made a very special birthday gift for you. They're hand-knitted bed shoes, very soft and comfy, for cold nights. Maybe you would like to try them on, to make sure that I've got the right size?”

“Not now.” Aunt Violetta held up a hand and concentrated on Olga again. “Olga Ottima.” She stretched out her gnarled hand and crooked one finger. “Olga Ottima.” The words sounded like a curse now, spoken by the booming voice.

The family held their collective breaths.

Suddenly, Aunt Violetta barked in a voice that had them all jump in their seats: “Omar!”

Without a sound, he got up and stood next to her, one hand on her shoulder.

“Look at that woman, Omar.” Aunt Violetta narrowed her eyes as she surveyed Olga from top to toe. “She made my dear Fabbiola's life pure hell when Fabbiola was only a young girl. All because of a young man. She haunted that man until he left his home and his family. I knew his mother well. She never got over it.” She leaned forward, her mouth gaping open for an instant, before she closed it with a snap. “Listen, Olga Ottima. If you dare to make trouble for my family, I will set Omar onto you. You don't know Omar yet.” A dry chuckle. “Omar is my son. He'll do anything to protect our family. Anything, you hear?”

Carlina shook her head to dispel the feeling of being in a bad dream. She had the impression of having strayed into an opera play with too much pathos. Surely, this was pure comedy? When would they start to laugh and realize this was all a joke? She looked at the faces around her. A few were pretending to focus on their plates, embarrassed by Aunt Violetta's antics, but most showed open admiration for Violetta's theater production and were clearly impatient to see the next act. She willed herself to look at Garini. At times like these, she wondered how long he would stick to her and her unpredictable family.

He was surveying the action without twitching a muscle. His face looked as if it were carved of stone and didn't give anything away.

Oh, Madonna.
Carlina sighed. She went to her mother, took the parcel Aunt Violetta had not deemed worthy of attention, and held it out once again to the ancient lady. “You should really try on these shoes, Aunt Violetta. You'll like the color. I know Mama chose the wool especially for you. It's violet.”

A withering glance reduced her to silence. “Don't take me for a fool, Carlina. And I never liked violet. I prefer black. Besides, I'm not trying on shoes in the middle of eating my dinner.”

As nobody had started to eat yet, it was a gross exaggeration, but nobody pointed that out. Aunt Violetta turned her head like a turtle and addressed Uncle Teo. “They say there's no fool like an old fool, Teo. How can you fall for a scheming woman like that Olga? Don't you remember her history? Besides, she's much too young for you.”

Uncle Teo pulled his bushy eyebrows together and returned her stare with dignity. “That history is quite old, my dear. I think we should let the past go and concentrate on the future.”

“You can't forget the past!” Aunt Violetta's voice filled the room without the slightest difficulty, though by now, it was quiet as a grave because the family hardly dared to breathe for fear of missing a single word of this highly entertaining dispute. “The past is the base of everything that happens today! People don't change drastically, believe me. Their characters are done when they're born, and you just apply a thin layer of civilization with all that education and stuff--” she made a dismissive movement with her hand, “-- but after the age of sixty-five, most of that thin layer falls off again,--”

“--as amply proven by yourself.” Olga's words cut into her speech and fell into a silence that turned from appreciative to stunned. All eyes were on her. She lifted her chin and eyed the assembled Mantoni family with an hauteur that was fit for a Queen. “As I'm obviously not welcome here, I will leave.”

She started to leave the room, but before she could reach the door, Uncle Teo addressed them all. “I'm ashamed of all of you. You should rethink your position.” He followed Olga, and the last thing they saw was his arm, draped comfortingly over her thin shoulders.

Aunt Violetta snorted like an old horse. “Men. He's infatuated. It's obvious that we need to help him. He won't get out of the snares of that one all on his own. I'll think of something.” She looked around the table. “But let's eat first. There is no reason to overcook the pasta.”

Chapter 6

I

Carlina's heart hammered in her chest as she stood at Uncle Teo's door the next evening. She didn't usually meddle in other's people businesses, but she had the feeling that now was the right time to make an exception. Still, she felt ill at ease and wished she were somewhere else. Anywhere, in fact, but in front of Uncle Teo's door. She knocked and waited.

Nothing. In the distance, she heard the bells of Santa Croce chime the hour. Seven o'clock. Her throat closed. How she loved this house. She would miss the bells. She cocked her head. Still nothing. What if something had happened to Uncle Teo? Was Olga with him? She rang again.

Finally, just as she was considering using her own key to get into the apartment, she heard Uncle Teo's shuffling steps. He opened the door in slow motion.

“Uncle Teo! Are you all right?”

He looked tired, and his usually impeccable hair was slightly ruffled. For some reason, he seemed much older and more vulnerable than ever before. “I'm all right, Carlina.” His voice was flat.

“Where's Olga?” Carlina looked over his shoulder into the apartment.

“She's gone out.” He took a step back. “Do you want to come in?”

“Yes, please.” Carlina was grateful for the chance to speak to him without anybody else present. She had been willing to ask Olga point-blank to leave them alone for a confidential talk, but was happy to reach the same result without confrontation. She followed him to the living room, her fingers twisted around each other. She was nervous. It was incredible, but she was nervous to face her trusted great-uncle about his love affair.

“Was there anything you wanted to discuss with me?” Uncle Teo took a careful seat on the sofa and pulled at the crease in his trousers so they wouldn't be stretched out of form.

“Yes.” Carlina lowered herself onto the edge of Uncle Teo's old sofa and aligned her feet.
This isn't going to be easy.
She took a deep breath. “It's about Olga.”

“I thought as much.” His voice was dry.

“Recently, a friend of mine came to Temptation. Her name's Francesca. I'm not sure if you remember her? She's a glass-blower. Tiny woman.”

Uncle Teo shook his head.

“Well, anyway, she came to Temptation, and we got to talk about-- things. I happened to mention Olga's name, and she told me that she's works for the
Finanza
.” She kept her gaze fixed on Uncle Teo, to see his reaction to that most dreaded institution.

He only inclined his head. “I'm aware of that.”

Madonna. I'll have to be brutal.
“Francesca also said that Olga more or less ruined her family by reporting income from a holiday home they had kept secret. As a result, Francesca's family had to pay more taxes than ever before and had to sell the holiday home.”

Uncle Teo looked at her, his face wooden.

Carlina labored on. “It appeared that she insinuated herself into the family by becoming a friend of Francesca's mother. She only disclosed her true nature after she had found proof enough – and after she had reported them.”

Uncle Teo met her gaze with chilling hauteur. “What are you saying, Carlina?”

She gulped. “I'm . . . I'm afraid that Olga is using you only to sniff around.”

His mouth hardened. “Is it so unbelievable that she should be interested in me as a person?”

“Oh, no!” Carlina jumped from the sofa and went onto her knees, her hand on Uncle Teo's arm. “Of course not. And if it were anybody but Olga, I would be so happy for you. In fact, I
was
happy when I first saw you dancing with her. But everything I've learned in the meantime repels me. She's . . .mean. I mean, really nasty. She says things to hurt, and she knows where to hit.”

“She's never said a nasty thing in my hearing.”

“I know!” Carlina shook his arm. “I know. She's very clever. But you can't have failed to notice everybody's reaction to her. Even Benedetta doesn't like her, and you know that Benedetta is the sweetest woman in this house.”

“You all begrudge me my happiness.” His voice sounded brittle, and it was obvious that he was quoting Olga.

“Oh, no, we don't!” Carlina shook her head so hard that one curl slid into her eye. She pushed her hair away. “We want you to be happy! But Olga isn't the right person to make you happy.”