“Yeah, I just met Gennaro, who was going home. I guess everybody should know how you almost gave him a heart attack,” his finger poked teasingly at Maurizio’s shoulder. “However, what have you found out?”
They resumed the walk to the common room, “I haven’t found out anything yet, but I noticed a few phone calls from a mobile phone here in Rome. The number is from a foreign operator to the number of Ms. Fazekas, probably from Russia. I bet everything I have it’s a prepaid sim card, so finding the owner won’t be possible, I guess we could ask Ms. Fazekas about it. My first thought was that it could belong to her ex-husband, which I ordered Senior officer Milani to identify.” Maurizio’s tone of voice was feverish.
“So, I think we should start to put the pieces together, including that man,” Leonardo added. “Everything considered, he could have the best motive of all to kill Mr. Calvani.
With a nod, Maurizio entered the common room and went to the vending machine, trying to fit the new pieces to the picture that started to form in his mind. “Another thing to consider is whether the daughter has something to do with the story. I am also keen to believe the whole family created this plan together to get to the money of the victim. Even twenty million divided by three people would be a good reason to plan a murder in detail.”
“Then, you need to locate and track all the movements of the girl from three months before the murder.” Without averting his eyes from Maurizio, Leonardo reached the vending machine to get his coffee too.
The silence between them, although interrupted by the chattering and the noises coming from the corridors, overwhelmed Maurizio, but he could hardly hear anything else but the voices of his own thoughts as he reconnected everything together like a braid.
There must be a red wire that brings together the actions of every single person involved. The discomfort of Luciano’s behavior, his relationship with Irina, this elusive possessive ex-husband, and the apparent innocence of Madlen, must be related to one another.
The ringing of Maurizio’s phone brought him back from the depth of his considerations. He peered at Leonardo, who was also mentally placing the pieces together, and grabbed his mobile.
A slight groan escaped him as he realized Berenice was the caller.
“Good morning, Mrs. Moretti,” he greeted with a hardly concealed annoyance in the tone of his voice.
“Good morning, Detective, I know you told me not to call you using this telephone number, but I needed to talk to you. Do you have the time to see me?” her voice was far from being apologetic. When she was certain to have good grounds to call Maurizio, she understood she had to overcome every bureaucracy or formality.
“What’s your emergency?” he asked, sipping the coffee before it would have gotten cold. And unless I order an iced coffee, this isn’t the way I enjoy it.
His mood got slightly offset at the call, but he also knew that as the case would have been closed, even Mrs. Moretti would have become a distant memory.
“I was going through my morning routines, when my attention was caught by some noises coming from the apartment of Mr. Calvani. Did you return the keys to his son, or should I presume there is an intruder?”
At those words, Maurizio froze, and turned his eyes in the direction of Leonardo, and almost forgot about Mrs. Moretti waiting for an answer.
“Detective, are you still there? Do I have to presume you’re on your way? Should I keep an eye on what’s going on in the apartment?” Her voice reached an excited tone.
Surprised to hear her voice coming from the telephone he kept glued to his ear, he almost startled. “Oh, Mrs. Moretti, can you wait a moment so that I can check on something?” He muted the conversation he had with Berenice.
Creasing his forehead, Maurizio looked at Leonardo. “Someone’s in the apartment, and unless it’s someone from your team, we might have the stereotypical assassin who returns to the crime scene. Come with me, we need to find out and to make sure Mrs. Moretti won’t intrude in this matter.”
That being said, Maurizio turned and started to walk toward the exit, expecting Leonardo to follow him. Unmuting the conversation, he took a deep breath.
“Mrs. Moretti, are you still there?” he asked.
“Yes, but what’s going on? What am I supposed to do?” her voice lowered the tone as if she didn’t want to be heard.
“Remain where you are and don’t go to the apartment. We’re coming to check what’s going on there, whether there’s a thief or it’s Mr. Calvani junior, who’s trying to fetch something he might have forgotten there,” he warned as he reached the parking lot and entered the car.
“Ok, Detective, but what if the intruder leaves?” she asked.
“Keep your eyes on the door, and if he leaves, you’ll take account of the time, and we will take care of the rest, but stay away from the apartment.” His voice growled inside the car, as Leonardo entered.
Pursing his lips, Maurizio glared at his colleague, who kept his annoying nagging expression. “Not a single word!” Maurizio warned.
He was going to tell him everything, but he needed to have Leonardo silent for a minute. That was the moment when his sarcastic comments were the most unwelcomed. The night he spent sleeping in the home office didn’t help improve his mood, which went on deteriorating by the minute.
“It was Mrs. Moretti, the woman living in the apartment adjacent to the one of Mr. Calvani,” Maurizio explained, trying to focus on driving and to calm down his spirits. “She called to inform that she’d heard some noises coming from the apartment. Now,
