Death in the Dolomites by David Wagner (people reading books TXT) 📗

“Certainly, certainly.” He stepped aside and Rick could see that the apartment was the mirror image of the one across the hall. The furnishings were also the same. Lotti, it appeared, had saved money by purchasing everything in sets to cover all the rooms in the two apartments on the floor. They walked to the living room and took seats in the same wooden furniture as in the Taylor apartment. Even the view out of the picture window was the same, though now almost covered with darkness.

“When did you see Signor Taylor last?” asked Luca once he had introduced Rick, and all three were settled in their seats.

Lotti sat with his arms folded tightly across his chest. It looked like a show of defiance, but Rick guessed it was more that he didn’t know what to do with his arms. He wore a bright red cotton turtleneck which clashed with his hair, its collar stretched out so that it accentuated a long neck. His legs splayed out in front of the chair like they were glad to have the space. Rick guessed at least a size twelve for the loafers, maybe thirteen. Lotti stared at the ceiling as he framed an answer.

“The last time I saw Cam? Last week. On Tuesday. We had lunch in Milan.”

“You haven’t seen him here in Campiglio?”

Lotti did not seem bothered by Rick asking a question. “No, I arrived Friday night. Later than expected since the carabinieri were stopping everyone at Dimaro and requiring chains. It was the first time I’d put mine on, so it took a while. I expected to see him yesterday, but he wasn’t there. As you know. His sister told me he was missing.”

“Do you know Signor Taylor well?” asked Luca.

“Fairly well, I suppose, though we are not close friends. We met at one of the monthly luncheons of the American Chamber of Commerce in Milan. I did my graduate studies in the States, so my company has me attend the chamber meetings. They’re mostly conducted in English.”

“Did he say anything at the lunch that could give a clue as to why he’s disappeared? Was he worried about anything?”

“Not really. We chatted about the usual topics, business gossip. Or perhaps you could call it networking.” The last word was in English, and he grinned briefly at Rick as he said it, the first time he had shown anything but seriousness. “He was looking forward to the week of skiing, I do remember that.”

“And to the arrival of his sister?” asked Luca.

Lotti’s face froze. “Uh, yes, of course,” he finally answered.

“Do you know Gina Cortese?”

Lotti did not appear surprised by the question. He shrugged. “Met her once. Cam talked about her, but he likes to brag about all his exploits.” His face froze as he realized what he’d said about his friend to two strangers, but he quickly snapped out of it. “Do you have any idea what’s happened to him, Inspector?”

Luca studied the man’s face and shook his head. “If you think of anything, please give me a call.” He passed his card to Lotti and stood up, followed by Rick. Lotti stared at them before getting to his feet.

“That’s all? I mean, yes, certainly, Inspector, I’ll call you if anything comes to mind.”

***

“Not what I expected,” said Luca as they emerged onto the street and he placed his cap back on his head.

Rick adjusted his Borsalino and looked at the darkened sky. The snowflakes, now getting larger, burst into view as they reached the light of streetlamps. “Not what I expected either, Luca.” The word “doofus” came to mind, but Rick wasn’t sure how to translate it. “Did you notice something in his apartment?”

“The furniture? Yes, it was like—”

“No, Luca, not the furniture, something in the air, literally.”

“Non capisco, Riccardo.”

“Cat Taylor’s perfume. And strong enough to indicate that she had just been in Lotti’s apartment.”

Luca nodded and grinned. “She was there when we rang the door buzzer, which is why it took him a few seconds to answer. Very good, Riccardo. Perhaps I am coming down with a cold and my nose didn’t pick it up.”

“You won’t get a cold now that you have that hat.”

Luca touched his recent purchase and flashed a smile as wide as its brim. They walked slowly along the crowded sidewalk. Ahead of them, three pre-teen boys followed three girls of similar age. The girls talked in low voices, glancing back toward the boys from time to time and giggling. When they turned around, the boys quickly moved their attention to the store windows. Rick was trying to decide if the two trios actually knew each other, when Luca spoke. His serious mood had returned.

“I’ve had a few missing persons cases, Riccardo, and usually that person disappears because they want to. Once you’ve asked everyone if the person seemed nervous or upset or depressed, and the answers are negative, it’s hard to know what to do next. I wouldn’t say that to the man’s sister, but with you…”

“Thanks for confiding, Luca. There doesn’t seem to be any reason for this guy to take off on his own. He’s here for a holiday, the ski conditions are ideal, he’s got the beautiful ski instructor for when he’s not on the slopes. What’s there to make him leave town?”

“Exactly, Riccardo.” He stared at the slushy sidewalk as they approached the square once again. “That’s why I’m worried.”

***

At the moment they stepped into the hotel, Luca’s cell phone rang.

“I’ll meet you in the bar,” he said to Rick, and walked into a corner of the lobby, putting the phone to his ear with one hand and shaking the snow off his hat with the other.

Rick walked into the bar and spotted Flavio sitting with a man and a woman in their late thirties whom Rick immediately pegged as Americans. The man was muscular and wore his hair very short. The woman had looks which in some circles would be