“Exactly!” Detective Scala exclaimed, pointing his finger against him, “This person, perhaps explained to him that it wouldn’t take long and he or she was going to sleep, so he or she approached the Lamborghini, extracts the gun and shoots the deadly shot right at the victim’s head,” he concluded pointing an imaginary gun at Leonardo’s head.
“And Mr. Calvani wasn’t expecting him or her to extract a gun, because they were probably friends and he trusted this person, so he couldn’t react. Most likely, he didn’t have the time to realize he was holding a gun and fired at him,” Leonardo reasoned, standing up.
“Do we have any results from the surveillance cameras?” Maurizio wondered. That evidence could have solved a big deal of headaches, because it would have revealed, at least, the dynamic as it happened.
“Are you going to guess, or do I have to tell you?” Leonardo grimaced.
“Fuck! What was the problem this time? A short circuit, locusts, plague?” It wasn’t the first time technology failed when it was needed the most. “Come on! They installed the cameras for this precise reason, so if a crime occurred in the garage, it would be easier to identify the suspect.” His voice trembled in frustration, as he raised his hands to his head.
“The cameras were under maintenance, and a guard was supposed to be there to compensate for that lack. Now, the problem is that not everyone knew this detail, and not everyone knew where those cameras are located. Therefore, we have two important clues: Number one, the killer is not an idiot, and didn’t act impulsively. He or she studied the place accurately under every single detail. Number two, the assassin is either one of the people living in the building or a person who comes regularly there to visit a family member or...” Leonardo counted on the fingers hesitating on the last sentence.
“Or is in a relationship with one of the residents,” continued Maurizio.
“Precisely!”
Rubbing his chin with his hand, Detective Scala lowered his gaze and walked to his desk. Fully immersed in his thoughts, he slowly sat down as if not make any noise to disturb his train of thoughts.
He then raised his eyes to Leonardo, “This means that it’s either the son, the girlfriend or one of the people living in the building. Although, I do believe only a handful of them knew Mr. Calvani close enough to have any reason for killing him.”
“What could have pushed his son to even conceive anything like a murder?” Leonardo’s forehead creased at the unexpected suggestion.
Certainly, for a young man in his University years, having a Lamborghini, a fat bank account, and a beautiful apartment on the most expensive part of the city would have been a reason good enough to kill. Not to mention that he would have also inherited at least half of his father’s business if Mr. Calvani decided to include his ex-wife in his will.
“What about the other heirs? Was Luciano his only son?” Leonardo tried to consider the whole scenario and all those who would have a reason to have Claudio six feet underground.
“Yes,” mumbled Maurizio. “One thing for sure is that without recordings, things are going to be difficult. The murderer could be literally whoever, except the wife, who has a bulletproof alibi. At the time of the murder, she was on the night train from Reggio Calabria to Rome. His son was asleep in his room. What if he wasn’t sleeping and he appeared by the car? Mr. Calvani certainly wouldn’t have expected to have him shooting.”
“I seriously doubt he was expecting anyone to shoot him. He wasn’t a politician, a drug dealer, or a magistrate involved in an organized crime case.” Leonardo shook his head, crossing his arms to his chest. “We are talking about a successful businessman, who never received any threats, with, apparently no enemies, but with a soft spot for women. If this puts him into the position of being a target, then we should include half of the Italian entrepreneurs. This doesn’t make any sense, and I don’t believe his son would ever do anything like that. We are too early into the investigation to start reaching these types of conclusions.”
Pursing his lips, Maurizio lazily browsed through the items on his desk. Grabbing a pen, he started tapping on the table with its tip.
Tick...tick...tick... A measured rhythm marked the time, together with his own thoughts.
At the fourth ticking sound, Leonardo grabbed the pen from Maurizio’s hand, “Would you stop it, alright!” he hissed, slamming it on the desk.
“Cool down, brother,” Maurizio replied, annoyed, holding the pen once again.
He grabbed his head between his hands, and a long exhale came from his mouth as he raised his stare once again at Leonardo. “According to Mrs. Moretti, the neighbor, we should look for the girlfriend, but she also admitted the relationship between father and son wasn’t the most harmonic. She mentioned hearing, Luciano, yelling at his father. The reason was probably the jealousy; he wanted to spend time with him, but this one was completely caught in the relationship with his new girlfriend.”
“So, you think he thought that killing his father would have been the best solution? Something like If I can’t have you, then no one else will? I would have considered instead to kill the girl,” Leonardo observed, excluding completely the involvement of the young man.
Leaning on the chair, Maurizio’s eyes met the clock on the wall. “I’m going to consider this day gone. I’ll ask the rest of my team to gather more information as to whether there’s a testament, a life insurance, anything that could lead someone to think killing a person would be a brilliant idea.
“Yeah, I think we
