***
Maurizio was in his office, after returning from a well-needed chat with the employees at the firm Claudio owned. Besides the tension for the uncertain future of the business and the eventual redistribution of the working places, nobody seemed to have any problem of going along with Claudio.
“Every person I’ve spoken to would describe him as a very easy-going person, understanding and professional. This, at least, might take away any sort of jealousy in the firm.” His voice resounded between the walls of the empty room. He raised his glance from the keyboard of his laptop, where he was putting in order his notes, and felt the loneliness of not having either Leonardo or members of his team to brainstorm with.
It wasn’t the first time he was working alone, but certainly, it was the first time he felt lonely. Leonardo was finalizing the collection of the data from the apartment. Once it would have been completed, they would have gone through all the bits of information and get an exact idea of what happened that evening and what could have been the reason for murdering Claudio.
The ringing of his mobile phone resounded in the room, giving him a sense of gratitude, toward whoever came to rescue him from his loneliness.
“Scala,” he answered with his usual firm tone.
“Good afternoon, Detective, this is Giulia Martini, Claudio Calvani’s ex-wife. I’m not sure whether you need to know this particular detail, but I feel like it’s better to know too much than too few in this case,” she commenced as she walked to the kitchen to get a soda from the fridge.
Leaning on his chair, his expression relaxed. “Good afternoon to you, Mrs. Martini. How can I help you?”
“Well, today, as I came back from work, as usual, I had checked the mailbox, and between the regular correspondence, I received two letters, one for me and one for Luciano. We both had been invited this Friday to the reading of the holographic final will of Claudio,” she explained, hoping this wasn’t useless information that could be considered a waste of time. “I was surprised to receive the invitation as well; I was sure he’d left everything to Luciano and his new girlfriend.”
Maurizio grabbed a pen from the desk and started playing with it, a smile opened up on his face as he recalled how Leonardo found this way to release his stress: tapping any object he could find against the surface of the desk annoying. “That indeed is a very important piece of information and, if you permit me, I will need to be there as well. Do you have any idea of who else may have been invited to the reading?”
Shaking her head and scrutinizing the letter once again to check whether the names of those who would participate were listed, she replied. “No, Detective, I believe the only way you can find this information is to call the attorney who is handling this case. I wish I were more helpful.”
“You have been very helpful with this call. One thing I would ask you is the time of the appointment and the address where you are supposed to meet. I will be there as well and, perhaps, I will get the opportunity to have a chat with the attorney who has taken charge of the will.” He searched for a piece of paper where he could write down the address.
There was his laptop sitting there on his desk, ready to take any sort of input, but Maurizio was still attached to the old-fashioned pen and paper method of note-taking. He felt like they were far handier, when it was a question of taking fast notes.
“Yes, the Antonioni Law firm is the one who’s taking care of the case and you can refer to Silvia Antonioni, who is the attorney who sent us the invitation. I believe she took care of the legal business of Claudio. It might also be the law firm that was the one who was paid in case of legal issues with his business. We are supposed to meet there at three o’clock in the afternoon, and the address is ‘via Cola di Rienzo, 100.’” Her eyes browsed around the room and met the clock on the wall. With a grimace, she acknowledged that the time to prepare dinner was approaching.
Living alone, she never had to adhere to any timetable, but as Luciano moved into the same apartment, she returned to the routine of having dinner together at the usual time they used to have it, when they were once a family.
A melancholic sigh escaped her mouth, recalling those times, so far in the past to fool her as they belonged to someone else’s life.
“Yes, thank you very much,” he answered as he finished writing down the address. “Is there anything wrong?” Maurizio wondered, acknowledging her tone.
“No, Detective. I was thinking about preparing dinner,” She giggled, amused, standing from the chair. “I’m no longer living alone, and this means timetables and routines have to be restored.”
Folding the note, he placed it on his wallet. He nodded and recalled that probably he also was supposed to either call home or to consider the day over.
“You’re right. I will have a chat with the attorney, and I’ll be there for the reading of the wills,” Maurizio stood from the chair, stretching his back. “Thank you very much for the information and I shall see you on Friday.”
As he ended the conversation with Giulia, Maurizio thought he’d better tend to straight up the relationship with his wife. Therefore, he considered informing her that he was about to leave and prayed to be home as soon as possible. Later the traffic on the Tiburtine Road would have been unforgiving, and at best he knew he needed to get a head start.
He switched
