perhaps, who was jealous to see that Bardizza was intending to live with the old man.”
“A crime of passion. But they didn’t sleep in the same bed,” the judge said.
“They didn’t sleep in the same bed but they slept in the samehouse. And how was an outsider to know what exactly went on within the walls of the Villa Laura?”
“The murderer knew the villa well—well enough to find his way around and not leave any clues, not even a fingerprint. Somebody who cleaned up after his dirty work. Somebody who knew exactly what the relationship between the old man and his housekeeper was.”
Trotti was silent.
“Piero Trotti, you’re young and you’re ambitious. But don’t allow yourself to be carried away. Look for the motive. Can’t you see that no one else had any reason to want to kill the old man?” It was as if Dell’Orto had convinced himself. “Tell me, Trotti, have you talked to Ramoverde?”
Trotti nodded.
“And?”
“He seems a pleasant man. Shy, perhaps.”
Dell’Orto smiled. “A shy man with a fairly turbulent past.” He set the pince-nez higher on his nose and turned towards the pile of dusty documents.
Outside, beyond the judge’s grubby office, the sky was blue and cloudless. Agnese and Pioppi were up on the lake, probably swimming in the cool water or perhaps taking tea on the terrace at the Villa Ondina.
The hottest August on record.
The old Judge appeared to have forgotten about Trotti. Trotti stood up and mumbled a courteous “Buongiorno.”
“Remember, Brigadiere, remember what the French say—
cherchez la femme
.”
14: Monster
V ITA E SORRISI , 2nd September 1960
“
WE SAW THE MONSTER OF VILLA LAURA ”
Within a few days, Italy will return to work after the two-month hiatus of a summer that has given us much to be proud of in the stadia of Rome. But the Olympic Games are now over, the first clouds can be seen in the late August sky and soon the nation must return to the office and to the factory
.
For some people, work has never stopped, even during the canicular heat of the Ferragosto. While others were crowding into the Olympic City or on to the hot beaches, Vilma and Giacomo Forti (both thirty-seven years old) have been diligently selling petrol and oil from their AGIP concession in the via Klepero (Piacenza). “Not everybody can take a holiday and we have been working to satisfy the demand of the local population as well as the tourists coming down from Northern Europe.”
About one thing, Giacomo Forti is certain. “On the afternoon of August second, a two-tone Fiat 1100 drew into the forecourt. The driver—a tall man wearing dark sunglasses—insisted that I wash his car immediately. He appeared nervous and obviously in a hurry. When I informed him that I would not be able to carry out the job before the following morning,he got rather agitated. Eventually he agreed to pay me a bonus of three thousand lire in addition to the standard rate for tourist vehicles. Understandably, the financial agreement met with my approval.”
“
We have seen the monster of the Villa Laura,” says Vilma, originally from the Valcamonica (Prov. of Brescia). Holding her delightful young son Andrea to her breast (photo opposite), she informed our special correspondent that the driver of the Fiat 1100 wore sunglasses and, despite the summer heat, a suit and a borsalino hat. He was, she states, of above average height
.
“
My husband was very busy and it was with my sister that I cleaned the car. Above the passenger seat, both on the inside and the outside of the vehicle, there were clearly defined black traces. My sister has trained as a nurse and she recognized the traces as dried blood.” The proprietress gives a shrug and a smile. “We have informed the Questura of this discovery in the light of what has already been stated in the local and national press.”
A phone call placed by our special correspondent to the Questura has met with the reply “No comment.”
“A crime of passion. But they didn’t sleep in the same bed,” the judge said.
“They didn’t sleep in the same bed but they slept in the samehouse. And how was an outsider to know what exactly went on within the walls of the Villa Laura?”
“The murderer knew the villa well—well enough to find his way around and not leave any clues, not even a fingerprint. Somebody who cleaned up after his dirty work. Somebody who knew exactly what the relationship between the old man and his housekeeper was.”
Trotti was silent.
“Piero Trotti, you’re young and you’re ambitious. But don’t allow yourself to be carried away. Look for the motive. Can’t you see that no one else had any reason to want to kill the old man?” It was as if Dell’Orto had convinced himself. “Tell me, Trotti, have you talked to Ramoverde?”
Trotti nodded.
“And?”
“He seems a pleasant man. Shy, perhaps.”
Dell’Orto smiled. “A shy man with a fairly turbulent past.” He set the pince-nez higher on his nose and turned towards the pile of dusty documents.
Outside, beyond the judge’s grubby office, the sky was blue and cloudless. Agnese and Pioppi were up on the lake, probably swimming in the cool water or perhaps taking tea on the terrace at the Villa Ondina.
The hottest August on record.
The old Judge appeared to have forgotten about Trotti. Trotti stood up and mumbled a courteous “Buongiorno.”
“Remember, Brigadiere, remember what the French say—
cherchez la femme
.”
14: Monster
V ITA E SORRISI , 2nd September 1960
“
WE SAW THE MONSTER OF VILLA LAURA ”
Within a few days, Italy will return to work after the two-month hiatus of a summer that has given us much to be proud of in the stadia of Rome. But the Olympic Games are now over, the first clouds can be seen in the late August sky and soon the nation must return to the office and to the factory
.
For some people, work has never stopped, even during the canicular heat of the Ferragosto. While others were crowding into the Olympic City or on to the hot beaches, Vilma and Giacomo Forti (both thirty-seven years old) have been diligently selling petrol and oil from their AGIP concession in the via Klepero (Piacenza). “Not everybody can take a holiday and we have been working to satisfy the demand of the local population as well as the tourists coming down from Northern Europe.”
About one thing, Giacomo Forti is certain. “On the afternoon of August second, a two-tone Fiat 1100 drew into the forecourt. The driver—a tall man wearing dark sunglasses—insisted that I wash his car immediately. He appeared nervous and obviously in a hurry. When I informed him that I would not be able to carry out the job before the following morning,he got rather agitated. Eventually he agreed to pay me a bonus of three thousand lire in addition to the standard rate for tourist vehicles. Understandably, the financial agreement met with my approval.”
“
We have seen the monster of the Villa Laura,” says Vilma, originally from the Valcamonica (Prov. of Brescia). Holding her delightful young son Andrea to her breast (photo opposite), she informed our special correspondent that the driver of the Fiat 1100 wore sunglasses and, despite the summer heat, a suit and a borsalino hat. He was, she states, of above average height
.
“
My husband was very busy and it was with my sister that I cleaned the car. Above the passenger seat, both on the inside and the outside of the vehicle, there were clearly defined black traces. My sister has trained as a nurse and she recognized the traces as dried blood.” The proprietress gives a shrug and a smile. “We have informed the Questura of this discovery in the light of what has already been stated in the local and national press.”
A phone call placed by our special correspondent to the Questura has met with the reply “No comment.”
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