The Venice conspiracy

CHAPTER 36

Present Day Carabinieri HQ, Venice Vito Carvalho is smiling when he re-enters his office.

Tom takes it as a good sign. 'So? Am I to be deported? Or fed to the lions in St Mark's Square?'

'Worse.' The major slips into his seat behind the desk. 'We're going to throw you to the Italian press.'

'The press?'

'Fight fire with fire. A full media conference. The brigadier thinks the best way out of this mess is to get the TV, radio and print journalists all together and blow this away in one single session.'

Valentina agrees. 'It's a good idea. At least this way we have some control over the garbage they'll write about you and the investigation.'

Tom can't hide his shock. 'I came here to escape the press. If you announce it's open house, then you'll have CNN, Fox and TMZ on your doorstep as well as the local vultures.'

'Then we need to be quick,' says Carvalho. 'Let's get it done and dusted before the foreign hacks start pleading with their editors for a few days in Venice.' He looks to Valentina. 'Can you fix it with our media centre? We'll use the main hall, five p.m. tonight.'

'Will do.' She smiles at Tom on her way out.

'What do you want me to say?' Tom asks.

'The truth. Be as truthful about your own situation as you want to be. As for the enquiry, Valentina and our press officer will prepare a statement, which I'll deliver. Hopefully we can use the situation to get members of the public to come forward with new information.'

'On what?'

'Anything. The first rule of running a murder enquiry is that someone always knows more than the killer thinks they know. We need to reach those people. With forensics struggling to come up with some leads for us to follow, we're making no progress.'

Tom wonders about the logistics. 'How will we do this? I mean, my Italian isn't good enough either to speak or understand. '

'Don't worry, we have a translator. You'll meet her beforehand and she'll explain how it'll all work.' Carvalho looks down at the National Enquirer article. 'Do you know where Signorina Ricci is now?'

Tom glances at the wad of faxes. 'Not a clue. She's a travel writer – allegedly – so I guess she's travelling somewhere.'

Carvalho can see he's embarrassed. 'You haven't spoken to her since she left?'

'No. I rang her cell several times, but it just trips to voicemail. I guess she's avoiding me.'

'She probably has a new number.' Vito scratches the back of his hand. 'You want me to find out exactly where she is and what her new contact numbers are? I could call some friends at the Polizia di Stato – the border police will have records on when she left the hotel and, if she has left Italy, where she went to. The rest of the information will only take a couple of calls…'

Something in Tom's conscience lectures him to turn the other cheek, to forgive and forget. 'I don't think so. Thanks anyway.'

'You sure?' Carvalho picks up the telephone. 'Wouldn't it be nice to phone her out of the blue?'

Tom can see the attraction in that. There are certainly a few un-priest-like words he's tempted to say to her. 'I'm sure.' He prises himself out of his seat. 'You mind if I just run to the washroom? Too much coffee.'

'Go ahead, you know where it is.' Carvalho waits until Tom has left the room, then decides he's going to put in the calls regardless. Even if Tom doesn't want to speak to the troublesome little bitch, he still intends giving her a piece of his mind and wants to find out exactly what her next story is going to be.