The Immaculate Deception

17

The realization that she had told almost everything she knew to a man who, it seemed, was quite possibly still connected to the intelligence services made Flavia feel quite distinctly paranoid. So much so that when she got to her car – thanking heaven that she always kept the key in her pocket rather than leaving it in the apartment – she checked it carefully, inside and out, underneath and in the engine and around the petrol tank. Stranger and nastier things had happened.

But all seemed fine, and she drove off quickly, taking a round-about route, up and down little alleyways, stopping frequently, doing illegal U-turns, driving the wrong way down one-way streets, just to make sure no one was taking an undue interest in where she was going. She kept up the routine when she got to the motorway as well, although the suddenly uncooperative nature of her bladder and the fact that for the first time in her life she felt car-sick meant that she had to stop frequently in any case.

Again, nothing untoward appeared in her mirror, no one seemed to look at her with more attention than was warranted, and gradually she relaxed. It was a long drive, made longer by the frequent stops, and it was three o’clock when she arrived once more in Siena. She parked in La Lizza, a part of the town that rarely appears on tourist postcards, considered for a moment whether she was doing the right thing, then walked into the school where Elena Fortini earned her living.

She had to wait; Elena was giving a class, and had another twenty minutes to go, so she sat, walked around, read the noticeboard full of trips and offers of accommodation and old cars for sale, and finally stared out of the window wondering why time so often seemed to drag along so slowly. It was unlike most schools; no bell signalled the end of lessons when they came, there was no sudden outburst of noise and movement as the pupils cascaded out of the classrooms. This was a serious place, mainly for students dissatisfied with the teaching at the university, or businessmen trying to show how keen they were to get on, or people who wanted jobs in the town’s hotels and needed to be able to talk to the guests.

Very dull, little life. Lost in a particularly distant pattern of thoughts, Flavia scarcely even noticed; only when Elena Fortini tapped her on the shoulder did she return to earth, and turn round.

‘They said I had a visitor,’ she began. ‘I’m glad you didn’t say who you are.’

‘Can we go somewhere quiet?’

Elena shrugged. ‘Fine. Inside or out? It’s a nice day. Let’s go for a walk. If you’re up to it.’

She was, but only for about ten minutes, then she began to feel extraordinarily weary, so they went into a hotel Flavia had stayed in once before, many years ago, and ordered a bottle of cold water and coffee, and sat in a small cloister in the shade. It was almost too beautiful to talk of anything serious. So they didn’t, for a while, but sat quietly together, with Flavia more and more convinced that her instincts were – must be – superior to any other evidence.

There was, though, only one way to find out. ‘I’ve been looking into you, and into Sabbatini,’ she said. ‘And getting conflicting reports. Like your being known in your past for excessive violence and cruelty. I was also told that Sabbatini never thought up his own stunts. They were always designed and planned by you, who stayed safely in the background. I’ve also caught you out in a particular lie. You said you hadn’t heard from Sabbatini in ten years. That wasn’t true.’

She smiled. ‘Can you prove it?’

‘As near as I need to. He phoned your school in February. It’s in his phone records.’

‘And how could you know that?’ she said scornfully.

‘You mean, how could I know when he used a public phone? Simple. Because he was an idiot and used a charge card to pay for it.’

‘Doesn’t mean I spoke to him. Maybe I was teaching.’

‘That can be checked, no doubt.’

‘Or out for a coffee.’

‘The phone call lasted thirteen minutes. It doesn’t take that long to be told you’re not there.’

‘So I forgot. Sorry. It slipped my mind.’

‘Ettore Bossoni.’ Flavia noted the sudden caution in the woman’s pose as she mentioned the name.

‘What about him?’

‘He’s the one who says you are exceptionally violent and dangerous.’

‘If he’s right, it’s risky of you to tell me, then.’

‘He’s now a journalist, and rang me up soon after the theft to make inquiries. He says Sabbatini tried to persuade him to publicize the whole thing. He also is lying.’

‘Very perceptive of you.’ She smiled. ‘No, I mean it. I’m not being entirely sarcastic. Go on, please.’

‘I’m fairly certain he got his information from somewhere in the government, at least. He was checking up on me, to make sure I was being as discreet as instructed. He was working for the security services twenty years ago, and probably still is in some form. A couple of hours after I talked to him someone put a car outside my apartment, which worries me.’

‘So it should,’ she said, suddenly serious.

‘Why?’

‘Go on talking to me. I might tell you later, depending on what you say.’

‘As far as I know it now, the events went like this: Sabbatini steals the picture on the Monday, and plans some grand coup for the Friday, the anniversary of his sister’s death. On the Wednesday, a ransom demand arrives. Two days later I – or rather my colleague – hand over the ransom money down the Appian Way and recover the picture. End of story. But …’

Elena Fortini looked at her inquiringly.

‘But, who handed the picture back and took the money? There are two possibilities. One is Bossoni, the other is you.’

She turned to see how this suggestion was received. It was not received very well. Elena Fortini took a sip of water, and shook her head.

‘Wrong,’ she said simply. ‘Or at least, wrong in your conclusions about me. I can’t comment on Bossoni, of course. However, all that evening I was teaching a long revision class that went on until past ten o’clock. The students had a big exam on the Monday and needed a lot of help. I have twenty people to prove I was here. And if you think I could get from a classroom in Siena to the Appian Way in under two hours, you have a higher estimation of my poor old car than it deserves.’

‘I’m open to suggestions.’

‘And what would you do if I did tell you something of interest?’

‘I don’t know. My original intention was to tidy up loose ends and save everybody embarrassment. Like a good public servant. It seems to have got a bit beyond that. I thought I was dealing with a stolen picture. The picture seems only a small part of it now. Although part of what I do not know. But Sabbatini is dead, his sister was murdered, a large amount of money has gone missing. And no one wants me to look into it at all. I’d like to know why, and get people off my back.’

‘If that’s the case then I won’t tell you anything,’ Elena said. ‘I’m not going to break cover just to make you feel comfortable. It’s too dangerous. And I’m not being melodramatic.’

Flavia looked at her seriously. ‘Look, I could arrest you as an accessory. I won’t; won’t even threaten it. You can sit there, drink your water, say nothing, walk out. There will be no consequences, no reports, nothing. If you tell me what you know, if there is anything I can do about it, I will. But I must be honest; I doubt there is.’

Elena rocked herself back and forth and thought. ‘So do I.’ She paused, then took a deep breath. ‘I kidnapped Maria di Lanna. Was that in your files?’

‘No.’

‘Good. I was worried about Maurizio when he was arrested. Courage was not his strong point, and I knew that he would say anything to get himself out of trouble. We needed something to make sure he realized that he had to keep quiet. Kidnapping Maria was a message he could not fail to understand.’

Flavia stopped herself from saying that shooting her in the head probably got through as well.

‘So we took her, and held her. A nice woman, oddly. Desperately spoiled, of course, but no whinger. I liked her. She was upset and frightened, obviously, but we reassured her it was only for a week, then she calmed down. It was true, as well. We planned to hold her only long enough for Maurizio to hear about it and get the message.

‘The day before we planned to let her go, the police came. The army, whatever. I was out; Maria said she wanted some cornflakes, so I went to the shop to get them for her. I also bought her a little cake. With a candle. We were going to have a little party that evening to say goodbye. Can you believe it?’ She shook her head. ‘I even bought some party hats.

‘No party. I saw the cars draw up as I was coming out of the shop, so I watched from a distance. I heard the gunfire, saw the troops storm in, heard my comrades and friends being killed. Pop pop pop. They didn’t even fire back; it was too much of a surprise. Five people in there, all killed within seconds.’ She paused. ‘You don’t look very shocked.’

‘Should I be?’

‘I suppose not. All that I want to say is that there was no attempt to arrest anybody. It was shoot to kill, no questions asked. We expected it in one way, but it was still a shock. A long time ago, and not important. What is important is that after all the shooting was over, I saw Maria, alive and well, being bundled out of the house and into a waiting car.’

‘She was alive? She was rescued? Are you certain?’

‘Alive and unharmed. Believe me, I can never forget it; as she was being led to the car she looked across the road and saw me, clutching the cornflakes. I thought, Christ, she’s going to point me out, and I got ready to run, but she didn’t. Do you know what she did? She winked at me. She did nothing at all except wink at me. Then turned her head away, allowed herself to be put in the car, and was driven off.’

She stopped, still remembering that faint smile then shook her head and drummed on the marble-topped table with her fingers. Thick, short fingers, they were, Flavia noted. Almost like someone who worked with them for a living.

‘The next morning it was all over the papers. Heiress killed in car crash. And rumours that she had been murdered by terrorists. I never discovered how they found us, but in some ways I was lucky that everyone else was killed. There was nothing to link me with the business at all. I went underground for a couple of years, and eventually was picked up and made peace, in my way, with the powers. It was all over by then; nothing anyone could do.

‘And that, I thought, was the end of it. I was lucky to be alive, and lucky not to be connected with it in any way. When I heard from the magistrate, Balesto, that he was investigating the whole business and wanted to talk to me, I was terrified. I thought, Christ, my luck’s run out. I would have made a run for it, but as I was still in gaol I couldn’t.

‘It was Maurizio, of course, who’d put him on to me. He only guessed it was me, he had no proof; nobody could do anything much. The magistrate made that clear when he saw me. And he wasn’t interested in me anyway. In effect, he offered me immunity from prosecution for anything that might turn up in the future in return for a full statement. So I gave it.’

‘You trusted him? Might I ask why? It hardly fits in with everything else I know about you, at least then.’

‘No. You’re right. In theory I had no confidence that he’d keep his word. It was something even more disreputable and infantile.’ She stopped and smiled quietly. ‘I felt guilty. I’d liked Maria. I needed to make some effort to redress the balance. Even if I wasn’t prepared to take many risks and even if I didn’t think it would make any difference. I was expecting my first kid by then. Maybe that made the difference. You’ll see for yourself, maybe.’

Flavia sniffed.

‘In some ways, meeting Balesto changed my life, in a small way. He was a good man. Brave in his soul. Do you know what I mean?’

‘I think so.’

‘Unlike me, he believed in justice, and was determined to live up to it, however foolish it was. He took great risks, and they destroyed him for it. Even seeing me was brave; several magistrates had been killed already, and he knew, I think, that he would win no friends in high places by what he was doing.

‘He was a very unheroic figure. Short and fat, but he had a sense of himself. A clarity about what he was doing. He was an honest man. I’d never met one before. Have you?’

Flavia nodded. ‘Maybe one. I used to work for him. As you say, they are rare creatures.’

‘Anyway, I told him everything, and he nodded and said that he knew most of it already.’

‘How?’

‘He didn’t say. Just that it was in his report. Which was almost finished. A week or so later, he was arrested, disgraced and his papers confiscated.’

‘So you can’t prove any of this.’

‘Yes. I can. That’s the whole point. After he died, Maurizio got a package from him, and in it was a letter, posted by his lawyer. The letter said that he had done nothing since his arrest, as he was frightened for his family should he speak out. There had been clear threats that he knew were serious. All his papers had been confiscated when he was arrested, but he had taken the precaution of making and hiding a copy of his investigation and the proof he would need.’

‘What proof?’

‘I don’t know. The letter finished by saying that he didn’t dare do anything with it himself but, since he knew he was about to die, there was nothing now to lose. If Maurizio wanted the report, he could have it.’

‘What did it say?’

‘I didn’t see it. All I saw was the letter; Maurizio came and showed it to me.’

‘Why?’

‘Just to prepare me. He said he was going to have his revenge and he wanted me to have some sleepless nights.’

‘All this was just to punish you?’ Flavia asked incredulously.

‘To punish everybody. I was just a minor detail. Anyway, then he vanished. I tried to contact him, but he never answered the phone or returned calls. He just went to earth, and the next I heard was that he was dead. I don’t even know if he managed to get the proof.’

‘It didn’t come with the report?’

‘No. Balesto said he’d left it long ago with a man called Bottando, who was the one person in the world he knew he could trust to look after it. What’s the matter? Have you heard of him?’

Flavia nodded. There wasn’t much point in being surprised at anything any more. ‘He’s my boss. Was, anyway. Go on. What do you mean? That you were just a minor detail?’

Elena looked scornful. ‘Don’t you realize? Don’t you know what this is about?’

‘It seems not.’

‘You don’t realize that the man who ordered Maria shot was Antonio Sabauda? The man who is now the prime minister? That what Maurizio was going to do was bring down the government?’

Flavia sucked in her breath and stared at her. She had not, in fact, realized that this was what Elena was leading up to. ‘But you don’t know that. You didn’t see it,’ she protested. She was willing to believe many things of politicians. This was going too far.

‘Oh, come on,’ Elena said angrily. ‘Sabauda got his big break being tough on terrorists and for his handling of the di Lanna case. He blamed the weak laws, the refusal of parliament to give him stronger powers, and he got everything he wanted. He got the patronage of the di Lanna family in gratitude for his efforts, and that saw him through all the crises of the next couple of decades. He was also in charge of the security services at the time. Her death and the quiet, forceful way he handled it made his career. He was waiting for something like that to happen, and when it didn’t, he made it happen. Dammit, she was taken away by the security services. And the next day she was found dead. Who else do you think killed her?’

‘Is that what Maurizio thought?’

‘Oh, yes. And so did I. When I came out of prison, after Balesto was disgraced I was visited by the security services. And was told that they had read his report, and knew full well of my role in the di Lanna case. That I should consider myself lucky to be alive, but that I wouldn’t be if ever I told anyone about it.’

‘So why didn’t they kill you? If everybody is as ruthless and murderous as you seem to think?’

She shrugged. ‘Because you never know when my testimony would come in useful. Sabauda was the friend of the security services, but what if times changed? What if they wanted to bring him down? Then I’d be useful.’

‘You never thought of leaving the country?’

‘Of course. But why bother? They’d find me. But now I am going. That report is out there somewhere, and the security services evidently know it. It’s time to pack my bags.’

Flavia shook her head. ‘So what about this picture? What was that all about?’

‘If this Bottando is your boss, then I think it’s fairly obvious. Maurizio wanted a bargaining chip to get this proof. Something to make Bottando give the proof up. Threatening to burn the picture would have been what he had in mind. The report wasn’t enough, however damning it might have been.’

She shook her head. ‘No,’ she said. ‘That doesn’t make sense. If he was going to hand the picture back in exchange for the proof, then what about this business he was planning for the Friday?’

Elena shrugged. ‘There I can’t help. As I say, I couldn’t get hold of him. I’m only guessing. You’re on your own now. And so am I. Don’t bother trying to find me. You won’t.’