Chapter 13

13

MONDAY AFTERNOON

As soon as we reached the jetty and I'd waved farewell to Christopher in the launch, I pulled out my phone and called Lieutenant Bertoletti. He answered immediately and told me that he was in his office if I wanted to drop in. I explained to Anna that I would only be a few minutes and then I promised that would be the end of my involvement with this case. I left her looking a lot happier than she had been this morning, sitting on a bench in the shade with Oscar at her side. I struggled through the crowds to the Carabinieri station and found Maresciallo Veronese standing outside as usual. As before, he gave me a salute when he saw me and addressed me as Commissario . I decided there was no point in trying to correct him as this would probably be the last time I would see him anyway.

‘Good afternoon, Maresciallo . I'm just going in to see the lieutenant. What sort of morning have you had?'

‘Frustrating. The lieutenant will tell you all about it. The two Libyans claim that they're old friends of Mario Fortunato and they just happened to bump into him by sheer chance here in Portofino.' He shot me a sceptical look. ‘And I'm Father Christmas, right?'

‘And what about Fortunato himself? Did his lawyer appear?'

‘Yes, but I don't think the lieutenant got much out of him either. Come on, he can tell you himself.'

He led me through to the lieutenant's office and left me there. The lieutenant was looking a bit less tired but, just like the maresciallo , I could tell he was frustrated. I could well understand and I gave him a sympathetic smile.

‘I gather that your three suspects haven't provided you with any kind of breakthrough.'

‘My three suspects have hardly said anything. The Libyans claim they know nothing and want to speak to their embassy in Rome, accusing me of harassment. Fortunato continues to deny everything, including a mystery vessel arriving in the night, as well as any knowledge of the boxes in his hold, even though I've told him his girlfriend witnessed their transfer from the other vessel. He says she must be mistaken and hinted darkly that she'd been smoking pot. We did find a stash of marijuana in the main cabin but whether that was for her use or his, I have no idea.'

‘What about her? When you spoke to her, did she manage to give you a decent description of the other boat?'

He shook his head sadly. ‘Not really: similar size yacht to the one she was on, but because it was dark, she barely glimpsed the name and can't remember what that was. She has little or no experience of boats, and she didn't even notice if it had a mast or not. So, no, not a lot of help. We've taken a statement from her and we have her contact details, but we sent her away just after ten. She's probably back in Lucca by now. The trouble is that, without her evidence, we still can't get a positive ID on that other boat – assuming there really was one and it wasn't just the product of a drug-induced dream. What about you? How did it go on board the Regal Princess ?'

I gave him a rundown of what I'd learned, starting with the bad news that I'd been unable to identify the other voice I'd heard in Lucca. I saw him nod gloomily and I went on to give him the other bits of information I had gleaned, finishing off with a brief summary.

‘So what does that give us? The victim was generally disliked by all and particularly hated by Martin Grey. Douglas Kingsley, the younger comedian, looks like a tough character, although I'm not sure I could see him committing murder, and I'm not aware of him having had any particular arguments with the victim. There's the question of the company maybe facing insolvency, but I fail to see how that might have provided grounds for killing the boss. To be honest, without sitting down and giving each of them a full in-depth interview and checking their records, I'm struggling. What about the crew? Did Maresciallo Veronese get any joy when he interviewed them?'

‘Nothing of any value. The deckhand who was on anchor watch that night claims that he saw nothing and heard nothing apart from the outboard motor on the dinghy starting up when Van der Groot set off for the shore. Veronese said the man wasn't particularly cooperative.' He consulted his notebook. ‘Name of Heinrich Schiller, German national, goes by the name Rick on board the yacht, and Veronese wondered if he might even have a criminal record as he was very negative, almost insolent. I haven't checked him out yet. I've been waiting to see if you'd come across anything interesting, but I'll get onto the German authorities now. According to Schiller, all he says he could see when he heard the sound of the dinghy engine was the shape of a single person sitting in the boat as it disappeared into the dark, heading for shore, but there was no way he could identify who that was. Apart from that one sighting, he claims no other boats came or left or even passed near them between sunset and dawn.'

‘Van der Groot stormed off at the end of a major argument that night. I'm not sure, but it was probably with Martin Grey.'

‘I'll check that out. Veronese and I are on our way back to the yacht this afternoon.'

‘And when you spoke to the people on the yacht yesterday, did they tell you what they did after Van der Groot stormed off? Did they get up and leave as well or just stay in the saloon?'

‘We didn't have long with each of them so I'll ask for more detail this afternoon, but, from what people told me, after the meal had finished, some started heading back to their cabins, one or two went for a late-night swim in the pool, a couple opened yet another bottle of wine and stayed in the saloon but, otherwise, nothing much happened. Very few of them have solid alibis so I suppose almost any of them could have followed Van der Groot and killed him. We asked each of the guests if they'd seen anything of Van der Groot after he stormed off and they all said no, but I find it hard to believe that he just disappeared into thin air. To make matters worse, although the yacht has a CCTV system, it's been out of action for the last two or three days and I gather they're calling into Genoa later in the week to get a replacement part fitted. It's infuriating.'

I knew how he felt. ‘That's a great pity. There's a part of me that still thinks there's something not quite right on the Regal Princess , but I suppose I'm coming around to having to accept that it might not have been one of them after all. Maybe Van der Groot just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and he was murdered by Mario Fortunato or the crew of the boat that brought the cases of weapons to stop him revealing what he'd seen.'

Bertoletti nodded slowly. ‘But of course we have no conclusive proof that there was a second vessel there, so that leaves us with the possibility that as Van der Groot was passing Fortunato's boat, he spotted him doing something compromising – whatever that might have been – and Fortunato decided to kill him to shut him up, but I'm just clutching at straws.' He gave a frustrated snort. ‘Who knows? Maybe Van der Groot was killed for some completely different reason. It might even have happened after he landed here in Portofino. He arrives at the harbour and somebody's lying in wait for him. They jump into the dinghy, knife him, then tip the body into the water and push the dinghy out into the current and that's that. But why? And more to the point, how did they know he was coming? I haven't done checks on all the phones on board the Regal Princess yet, but I suppose it's just possible somebody on board phoned here to tip the killer off, but why?'

‘Why indeed? Could it just have been an opportunistic robbery?'

‘Anything's possible. When the body was found, there was no phone, wallet or passport on him but the murderer might have taken them just to give the impression of a robbery or just to slow the investigation.' He shrugged helplessly. ‘Like I say, anything's possible.'

‘By the way, have your Forensics people checked the dinghy used by the victim yet?'

‘Yes, I got the results a couple of hours ago. Definite traces of blood and in fact some faint bloodstains still visible on the floor of the dinghy. The lab has analysed the blood and confirms that it matches the victim's. He was either knifed in the dinghy or it was used when disposing of the body.'

‘Yes, but if somebody came with him in the dinghy from the Regal Princess and murdered him en route to the shore, or if somebody knifed him on the yacht and then took the body away in the dinghy to dispose of it, how did they get back to the yacht? The German on watch says no other boats came near that night and the yacht was several hundred metres from the shore.'

‘More like eight hundred metres: a good long way.'

I let my mind roam for a few seconds. None of these scenarios seemed very likely but, without evidence, there was little we could do apart from come up with hypotheses and try to shoot them down. My thoughts were interrupted by the lieutenant's voice.

‘What about Susie Upton, the comedian? What was that you said about her maybe having had a relationship with the victim? Might that have gone sour?'

‘Your guess is as good as mine, but my gut feeling – and that's all it is – is that I think it's unlikely she was involved with the victim, but anything's possible, I suppose. When she spoke to me about him, she made it clear that she found him repulsive. Yes, she might have been lying, but I tended to believe her. I didn't see her as that venal. To be honest, I rather liked her, but I've been wrong before.' I glanced across the desk at him. ‘What's your next move?'

‘I can't keep the Regal Princess here much longer without charging somebody, so I'll have one more go at questioning everyone on board, including Susie Upton, and if nothing new emerges then I'll have to give the captain permission to carry on with the cruise.'

I remembered something that had occurred to me earlier. ‘I had a very nice fillet steak for lunch on board the yacht today and I noticed that the steak knives correspond pretty closely to the description you gave me of the murder weapon. I don't know whether you think it might be worth getting them to check if they're missing one?'

‘It can't do any harm – but I must make sure we tell the person doing the check to say nothing to any of the guests. The less gory detail gets out to the media, the better. Mind you, even if one's gone, it doesn't really get us any closer to knowing who might have stolen it and used it.'

I glanced at my watch and stood up. ‘I'm sorry I haven't been able to give you a positive ID on the voices I overheard, but maybe that was a red herring anyway. It could be the people I heard were from a completely different group – there were loads of English speakers in Lucca that night for the concert – and even if they were from the Regal Princess , maybe they were just letting off steam. From what I've seen and heard today, there's been a pretty tense atmosphere on board all week – and a lot of alcohol being consumed. Anyway, I've promised my girlfriend and my dog a decent walk so I'd better go. Sorry I haven't been able to help more.'

‘You've been a lot of help. I look forward to saying thank you properly at dinner tonight. See you at seven. Tell your girlfriend that my wife will be there so she won't be left to her own devices if you and I start talking shop. La Conchiglia, okay?'

‘If we start talking shop, I'm afraid you might find me in the sea with a steak knife sticking in my back.'

Anna and I spent the rest of the afternoon together and I worked hard to get back into her good books. My original idea had been to climb up the steep hillside above Portofino and walk for two hours to the Abbey of San Fruttuoso and then return to Portofino by ferry, but a helpful notice at the bottom of the hill indicated that it was a ‘moderate to hard' climb. The temperature was in the low thirties and I knew Anna wasn't very keen on hiking, so I wisely chose an alternative route. This was the Passeggiata dei Baci – the Path of Kisses – that led from Portofino around the rocky coastline to Santa Margherita. It was almost pan flat and the views across the bay to the south towards the distant Cinque Terre were delightful. There weren't too many people using the path and we even managed to stop in one or two secluded places for a few baci of our own.

I had brought Oscar's bowl, a small bag of dog food and a big bottle of water in my backpack and the highlight of his walk was without question when I gave him his lunch, now delayed by several hours. He has an impeccable internal body clock and it had been telling him that he was hungry for some time now – and he had been telling me with insistent prods of his nose. Needless to say, he hoovered it up in a matter of seconds and then finished off his meal with a bellyful of water – not quite as nice as lobster and fillet steak, but he's always been more interested in quantity than quality.

When we got to Santa Margherita, we walked along the harbourside until we found seats at a table under the trees directly overlooking the marina. Like Rapallo, it was packed with pleasure craft ranging in size from rowing boats to what I would formerly have described as ‘gin palaces' – although I now knew they were small fry in comparison to where I had recently been wined and dined on something three or four times their size. The buildings ringing the harbour were the same mix of ochre colours as Portofino but it lacked the beautiful little bay and the old castle on the hill. The busy road running parallel to the harbourside further detracted from the charm of the place, but it was very pleasant all the same and I sensed that Anna might be beginning to forgive me for allowing work to encroach on our precious free time together.

There was more of a general family holiday vibe here and there were kids at most tables with nervous parents constantly checking that they didn't run out into the road. As for Oscar, he happily sprawled on the cool stone beneath our feet as we ordered freshly pressed lemonade for ourselves.

We had only been there for five minutes or so when Anna's phone started ringing. I heard her say, ‘Hi, Tamsin,' and then a few seconds later, she passed the phone across to me. ‘It's Tamsin, she says one of the men on the yacht wants to speak to you.' She didn't look impressed.

I took the phone from her. ‘Hi, Tamsin, thanks again for your hospitality today. We've just been trying to walk off all the wonderful food.'

‘Hi, Dan, you're very welcome. Listen, I've got Neil beside me: Neil Vaughan from Accounts? I don't know if you remember him. He'd like a word, if you can spare him the time.'

‘Yes, of course I remember him. I'd be happy to talk to him.'

Now what, I wondered, was this about? A couple of seconds later, I heard a man's voice. In spite of what I'd just said, I was still trying to place Neil Vaughan, but as soon as I heard the voice, I recognised it. It was the man who had originally been sitting alongside Tamsin, one of my possibles for the Lucca restaurant conversation, and the one I had notionally pigeonholed as a serious lawyer type. So he was an accountant rather than a lawyer – my first guess had been a good try, but no cigar.

‘Hello, Mr Armstrong, this is Neil Vaughan. I'm one of the GreyratTV group on the Regal Princess . I wonder if I could have a word with you about a serious matter.'

‘Hello, Mr Vaughan, how can I help?'

There was a momentary hesitation and when he spoke, it was in muffled tones. I had a mental image of him leaning out over the side of the boat so as not to be overheard. My curiosity increased as he murmured into Tamsin's phone. ‘I believe you said you're a private investigator. That's correct, is it?'

‘Yes, although, as I said, I'm a private investigator on holiday at the moment.' My eyes caught Anna's for a moment and I saw her nod in approval at mention of the word ‘holiday'.

‘Yes, I'm sorry to interrupt your break, but we have a situation here that needs to be looked into urgently.'

‘What sort of situation?'

‘I work in the accounts department and I've been getting increasingly worried over the past months about irregularities.'

‘When you say irregularities, do you mean that money's been going missing?'

‘That's exactly what I mean.' There was another long pause. ‘And I'm afraid that Jerome's death might be connected with it.'

‘In what way?'

‘I have a horrible feeling he might have discovered that somebody's been fleecing the company and that person, whoever it was, decided to silence him.'

I took a few moments to digest what I'd just heard. This could potentially add a different dimension to the whole case, but I still tried to distance myself from the official investigation as far as anybody on the Regal Princess was concerned. ‘I happened to bump into the Carabinieri lieutenant this afternoon and he told me he was coming out to the yacht to do some more interviews. Have you seen him and did you tell him this?'

‘Yes, I've seen him, but no, I didn't tell him, because I thought it was just too awful to contemplate.'

‘So why involve me now?'

‘After he left, I needed to talk to somebody about this so I took Tamsin into my confidence, and she told me I really needed to speak up. I was wondering whether maybe you could be persuaded to come and investigate my suspicions before we get the UK police involved. In the meantime, I'd be grateful if you'd go to the lieutenant and tell him about my concerns in case this might influence his investigation. You can say that I'm happy – well, not happy, but you know what I mean – to tell him all about it but, as you can imagine, I'm just concerned that if my accusations turn out to be groundless, I may have endangered my career. You can probably imagine how you would feel if one of your colleagues accused you of embezzlement, let alone murder.'

‘Yes, indeed. Do you have a particular person in mind as a suspect?'

There was a pregnant pause before he replied, his voice barely audible now. ‘I wouldn't like to accuse anybody unjustly, but there are only very few people with access to the company's affairs who could have been able to take the money.'

‘And are these people on the boat with you now?'

I swear I heard him gulp. He then cleared his throat before replying tersely, ‘Yes.'

‘All of them?'

‘Yes.'

I did a bit of quick thinking. It was five-thirty now and I would be meeting the lieutenant at seven. The complication, of course, was that Anna would be with me and I had promised to devote myself solely to her from now on. The fact was, however, that this was a murder case. I knew that this was serious enough for me to have to override any sensitivities Anna might have. I told myself I could have a couple of minutes at the beginning of the evening passing on this information to the lieutenant and then he could decide what steps, if any, he wanted to take. ‘Okay, Mr Vaughan, thanks for telling me this. I need to speak to my girlfriend to see whether I have time to get involved with the investigation, but I'll certainly get a message to the lieutenant. Don't worry, I'm sure he'll handle it sensitively and you don't need to be afraid. As far as my involvement is concerned, I'll get back to you if you give me your number.'

He sounded relieved, gave me his phone number and thanked me profusely. When the call ended, I relayed the gist of the conversation to Anna and she nodded a couple of times – not so much in agreement as in resignation. She made no direct comment but I thought I might just have caught a low murmur of, ‘Here we go again.'