The Broken Frame Read online

  Once the man was inside, Virginia Lucci made him aware of her doubts.

  “You don't look like an engineer from the power company.”

  “Really?”

  "I’m sorry, it was just an observation."

  “You’re saying the man who came this morning looked like an engineer from the power company, is that right?”

  “Roberto? What the hell is happening?”

  “Stay calm Mrs. Lucci. My name is Germano, I’m a policeman.”

  “Roberto! What are you doing? Say something!”

  “Leave your son alone. Why don’t we take a seat and have a little chat?”

  The two first looked at each other, and then they agreed to the Commissioner’s request. They made their way to the kitchen, and although they still didn’t understand what was going on, something prompted them to stay calm and listen to what the cop had to say.

  "I think you have a big problem, which unfortunately for you, has also been my problem for some time."

  “About what?”

  "It's about a murder case which at first was listed as suicide. That is what I’m investigating, Ma’am."

  “Is it someone we know?”

  “Don’t try to play games with me, Mrs. Lucci. I’m talking about Carlo Riva, and you knew him.”

  “He was an old flame, but that was many years ago.”

  "Are you sure? You know what the problem is, Ma'am? A couple of hours ago we were close to breaking into your house to arrest your son. To put him in jail on charges of first-degree murder. Do you happen to know what I’m talking about, Ma'am?”

  "Oh mamma mia! He hasn't done anything."

  "So you say. As far as I'm concerned, I have more than enough evidence, and I don’t need to argue who is guilty and who is innocent. However, I get the impression that the persons who wanted to fool me are the same persons who would like to fool you."

  “Rubbish.”

  "Mrs. Lucci, why don’t you tell me when and why you resumed contact with the deceased Carlo Riva?"

  Mother and son exchanged a significant glance, confirming that their bluff had been uncovered. It was time to talk.

  “It was two years ago. Roberto is Carlo’s son. He was born many years ago during our relationship. During this time I never wanted to tell Carlo the truth. He had his family, and I didn’t believe that if Carlo knew it would have changed anything. Roberto would still be left without a father, but the gossip and confusion would have made the newspapers."

  "Okay, so then you decided to tell him. Why was that? Economic reasons?"

  "Unfortunately, yes. Five years ago the company I worked for laid me off. When my compensation money ran out, I found myself broke. The only person to whom I could turn was Carlo Riva."

  "So you went to Carlo Riva and told him the story. Given the extreme resemblance to the other son, Michelle, he decides to help you."

  “Exactly, Germano. From that very moment...”

  "He starts to pass you two thousand Euros a month, so that the gas bills would no longer be a problem."

  “He was trying to help us.”

  “Indeed. Then what happened?”

  “It happened that he died. Poor Carlo.”

  "Madam, do not waste my time, and do not try to fool me. Rather, it would be better to try to explain to me why two thousand Euros per month were no longer sufficient."

  “I’m not trying to fool you!”

  “Perhaps you should make yourself clear.”

  "It was an operation on my knee. Unfortunately I’m following a very expensive course of rehabilitation. Without this intervention, I risked not being able to walk anymore."

  “At this point you asked for more money?”

  “Well, sort of. We asked Carlo for help.”

  “It seems more likely to me you were blackmailing him. Threatening him that you’d tell the rest of the story to his wife. Including the bit about the illegitimate son. You told him you’d raise a scandal which would hurt a person as prominent as him.”

  “I don’t how he took it, but certainly, we weren’t trying to blackmail him.”

  "I think he took it just like that, Mrs. Lucci. You would tell everything to his wife in order to force her to settle the matter. She, in her own way, fixed it for you.”

  “What do you mean, Germano?”

  "When was, if there ever was one, the last time you met Mrs. Bezzi, wife of Riva?"

  "Two or three months ago. She came directly to my house, close to Via Cristoforo Colombo. She was accompanied by a tall, slender man."

  “Did he look like this man here?”

  "Yes, it was him." The woman recognized the photo of the lawyer Morosini, Michael Riva’s current attorney.

  “I see. What was said, specifically?”

  "Mrs. Bezzi told me that she was aware of the history. Our history, that is, and she proposed a deal which we agreed to."

  "The agreement was a reward in exchange for your silence?"

  “Exactly. She offered to make the arrangements so we would become a part of the husband's last will and testament. We’d get ten percent, in return for which we would have to disappear, and not disturb Carlo anymore.”

  “And what about the two thousand Euros? The amount that you received monthly?”

  “She said she’d take care of it. All we had to do was tell Carlo that we wanted nothing more from him, since he’d already helped us so much.”

  "I'm sorry Roberto, but I bet you told your father of your decision to break off relations in a letter, didn’t you?"

  “Exactly, but how did you know?”

  "I would also guess that you never received an answer?”

  "That's true, I never did receive an answer. I thought that he felt sad, or that he considered he’d finally got rid of a nasty irritant. However, Dr. Germano, you haven’t answered my question."

  “Which is?”

  “How did you know about that letter?”

  "Ah! You see, Roberto, your father did write the letter, with his apologies. Only since we found it at the scene of the crime, this investigation has been littered with clues. Clues that would lead us to the two of you. They were artfully placed, so that at the end of the story the person who had to go to prison for life would be you, Roberto. A legacy, but what a legacy!"

  “Now what’s going to happen to us?”

  "At the moment, nothing. Unfortunately, stupidity is not yet considered a felony.”

  “How will this story end?”

  "Well, until now, Michele Riva is and will remain guilty of the murder of his father. The only hope we have is that in the end he decides to talk. If only because of your lack of involvement."

  “What do you suggest we do?”

  "Get out of town for a while, and of course, don’t dare to claim that ten percent of the inheritance."

  "We’ll disappear. Maybe it’s the only way to remove ourselves from the publicity generated by this story."

  "I can’t guarantee that, Roberto. It’s possible that Michele Riva, when he discovers that it won’t be so easy for him to get out of prison, tries one last card."

  “To implicate us?”

  "Exactly. Perhaps in the belief that the police did not move against you because they weren’t able to understand certain clues. So he'll try to present his side of the story in a more coherent way. I told you, there isn't anything predictable or foreseeable in the near future."

  The conversation ended in a much more relaxed way compared to the way it had begun. Germano left the apartment and headed for his car. Once in the car, he called Inspector Parisi.

  “Hello.”

  “Parisi, it’s me, Germano.”

  “Vincent! What the hell is going on?”

  "I'll explain it to you later, but for now, you can go home. Suspend the surveillance, we don't need it anymore."

  “You’re serious?”

  "I need a favor. I need you to track down Tim Simons and ask him to come and see me. But hurry, I have a feeling he’ll
be returning to America very soon."

  “Got it, Vincent. We’ll see you later.”

  “See you later.”

  Left alone in his office, the Commissioner thought about the entire case. The complicated series of criminal acts had reached heights of fantasy and cruelty he’d never seen before.

  The famous American detective didn’t keep him waiting for long. At the end of that winter afternoon, just before six, he was sitting in the waiting room, preparing to meet Germano in his office.

  “Good evening Commissioner.”

  “Good evening, Simons. Please, have a seat. Coffee?”

  “Yes thank you. A nice, long, American coffee.”

  “Certainly.”

  "To be honest, I was a bit surprised when your Inspector contacted me, Germano."

  "Why were you surprised? After all, a few weeks ago we started to discuss this, and maybe it’s time to finish it. Don’t you think?"

  "In some ways you’re right."

  “One more thing, I wanted to thank you.”

  “Why is that?”

  “For your quick and accurate investigation, and then for letting us in on the call to your wife in the United States. Even if you knew that your phone was being tapped.”

  “You’re a very cunning person, Commissioner.”

  "Thank you. Throughout our discussion, however, there was one thing that I didn’t understand. Only this morning I realized what you meant when you said that you had to drop the investigation. That delving into certain secrets, maybe many years old, would not help to solve the case. That they would only obscure it even more. Mr. Simons, I must confess it was very likely that it would have finished this investigation.”

  “But now? What is going to happen?”

  "With what we have, we can only hope that at the end the guy confesses. That he will tell the whole story, to condemn the mother and that cheap lawyer."

  “I hope so, Commissioner.”

  “So do I. Can I ask you a question, Mr. Simons?

  “Sure.”

  "Now that your daughter will not be attending the Italian university, I assume you are going to return to the United States. Why is that?"

  "I decided to send my daughter back to the U.S. because universities across the Atlantic are better. Also because I discovered that here in Italy you can have unpleasant encounters. Sometimes very unpleasant, so it’s better if we all go home, alive and together."

  "You're right. Sometimes I also think like you."

  “Commissioner, look. When you're away, you have the impression that Italy is a peaceful country. The truth is that too many things happen here. I see them happen every day. In the streets, on the bus, even at the post office. More complex things, thousands of things can happen in the space of time used to pay a telephone bill. The difference is that Italians are very clever at hiding these things. To live as if nothing has happened. To call reality by another name."

  “Those are bitter thoughts.”

  "I see that you have also been influenced. However, the important thing is that you tell the truth. If we don’t like it, then that should be a secondary problem. It should be an encouragement to give the best of ourselves.”

  “You’ll see, Mr. Simons.”

  Germano was suddenly interrupted by his colleague Parisi, who showed up at the door.

  “Vincent!”

  “What is it?”

  “There’s some news regarding the Riva case.”

  “Okay, tell me what’s going on.”

  “We received a call from the prison. Michelle Riva wants to talk.”

  Thanks

  Thanks to all those who have believed in me, I hope someday to repay all your confidence.

  Claudio

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