The Last Enemy by Grace Brophy Page A

way into the count’s social circle. He and his new-money wife Grazia had been notorious in Perugia for name-dropping and self-promotion. When they’d first started working together, Russo had treated Cenni in the same way that he’d treated most of his colleagues, and all of his subordinates—with contempt—until the questore had mentioned that Cenni’s mother was a Baglioni, one of the Baglioni’s. After that, every time that Russo threw a climbing party, Cenni had to find a new excuse to stay away. It had gotten close to the point of direct rudeness when Russo was exiled to Assisi. Did the banished Russo now hope to find Minelli’s killer himself, thereby acquiring her uncle’s gratitude and, with that, access to his high-powered friends? Russo was a barbarian from the north and given half a chance, he would screw up the Minelli investigation for his own purposes, of that Cenni was convinced.
    Il lupino was waiting for his counterpart inside the front door when Cenni arrived at the Assisi barracks. Given Russo’s history of skipping out of the office early on weekends, and of never showing up on holidays, Cenni found this unnerving.
    “Alex, Come ste ?” Russo said, using the familiar Umbrian ste , suspicious in itself since Russo was from Valle d’Aosta and in the past had always made fun of the Umbrian dialect. “Come into my office where we can talk in private,” he urged. “Your people can wait out here,” he said, slamming the door in Piero’s face. As soon as they were alone, Russo confirmed Cenni’s suspicions. Il lupino had an agenda.
    “We have an airtight case here, Alex. You need to know that, so you don’t waste your time talking to the family. They want their privacy. I have the murderer right here in the station, Sophie Orlic, the woman who found the body. She threatened the American a few months ago, and more than once. I have it on record,” he said triumphantly. “She’s a Croatian, a straniera ,” he added. A stranger, the clincher!
    “How did you arrive at that conclusion, Fulvio? Has Orlic confessed? I wasn’t aware that we’d established that Minelli was murdered. There’s no evidence of injury beyond a small bruise to her temple and a bump on the back of her head. Both could easily have resulted naturally, a fall after a heart attack, for example. Batori hasn’t done a postmortem yet.”
    Russo sneered: “After she had a heart attack, she staged her own rape! Come on, Alex. We both know this is no rape, and Batori confirms it. It points to a woman, to Orlic directly. But it’s your turf, Alex. Just trying to help!”
    “It’s not a matter of turf, Fulvio. We need to work together here. I’ve already spoken to Sergeant Antolini about working with us directly, and I can use anyone else you can spare.” Cenni had full authority to requisition whatever personnel and resources he needed, those of Assisi included, and they both knew it, but he viewed unnecessary displays of authority as counterproductive.
    “What about Minelli’s handbag?” he asked, not waiting for Russo to accede openly to his earlier request. That too would have been counterproductive.
    “It’s here,” Russo said, retrieving the bag from the bottom drawer of his desk, placing it on top. It was not plastic wrapped and Russo had handled it without putting on gloves. Cenni groaned inwardly.
    “Another reason why we should focus on Orlic!” Russo insisted. “A convenient way for her to account for her prints being all over Minelli’s bag, carrying it away from the crime scene like that. I checked the bag’s contents myself and made a list. There were only six euros in her bag, all in coins, and Minelli usually carried large sums of money on her person.” Noting the surprised look on Cenni’s face, he added quickly, “Information from her family.”
    “If you can wrap that, Fulvio,” Cenni said, nodding to the bag, “I’d like to take it with me. Include the list of contents as well.