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Arrivederci, Baby

by Philip Pak

Part 1 appears in this issue.

conclusion


Phelps was dressed and in the conference room of the hotel with Inspector Gotto when the first suspect was summoned. It was none other than Abramo. He nervously took a seat.

Gotto began: “Abramo, a lot of the seasoned workers at the hotel, as well as myself, know of the affair you had a few years ago with Ms. Marbles. Why don’t you tell us about it?”

“You’re right, we did have an affair once, but that’s old news. I was enamored by her looks, but mostly by her wealth and fame. I fell in love with her. I asked her to run away with me, but she told me she would not break up my marriage. I did not want it to go on like this, so I filed for a divorce. My Maria was heartbroken.

“After the divorce, I told Luce that I was now a free man and we could be together. She told me that she used my marriage as an excuse because she just wanted to have a convenient lover when she stayed at the hotel. She never intended the affair to go any further. She used me.

“I was so angry I grabbed her by the throat; I wanted to kill her. She pulled away and said: ‘It’s over. From now on, when we meet, remember you’re the staff and I’m the guest. In the future, you’re to address me as Ms. Marbles.’ From then on, I dreaded her visits to the hotel. Seeing her, or even hearing her name, stirred up memories of the insult.”

“Well, she won’t be visiting again, Abramo. You should be happy about that.”

“That was a long time ago. If I were to kill her, it would have been then. Right afterward, I tried getting Maria back. I grabbed some flowers from a hotel vase, and I went to see her. True, they were slightly wilted. I said I would be willing to give our marriage another chance. She threw me out. Funny, I never thought of her as the type to carry a grudge.”

“Interesting. You can go, Abramo, but don’t leave the hotel.”

“Are you kidding? I’m here twenty-four seven, anyway.”

The next person to be called was the waitress from the Green Grotto Bar, Concetta. She was an attractive woman in her twenties.

“Concetta, it’s no secret that before Paolo married Ms. Marbles, you and Paolo were romantically involved.”

“That’s none of your business!”

“Murder makes it my business!”

“Okay, so we were involved, so what?”

“I would say that jealousy is a good reason to want someone out of the way. Are you sure you’re telling me everything you know?”

She just waved her hand and didn’t answer.

“I understand that you were the one who delivered the gift of the poisoned liquors to Ms. Marbles’ room.”

“They were on the bar, with the room number on the box, when I arrived at work. I deliver all the packages from the bar to the rooms.”

“Do you know who the package was from?”

“I have no idea. Why don’t you ask the bartender.”

“I did. He said the package was there when he opened the bar. Do you have anything else to add?”

“No.”

“You may go, for now, but don’t leave the grounds.”

“That’s easy, since I live in the basement.” She got up and walked out.

The next person to be questioned was Mel Stoval.

“So, Mr. Stoval, I assume you know why you’re here.”

“My conversation with Ms. Marbles in the Capri restaurant?”

“From what I heard, it was more like an argument. Witnesses say you threatened her.”

“It’s true. I lost my temper and said things I regret, but there’s nothing more to it.”

“Why don’t you tell me what that was about.”

“Ms. Marbles promised to sign a contract with my publishing company, giving them the sole rights to publish her books, and to handle any movie contracts that resulted from them. She was a big deal in the literary field. Landing this contract was a feather in my cap, and I was given a promotion. She asked me to send her the check for the amount that was verbally agreed upon, and then she’d sign the contract.

“Usually they sign the contract first, then they get the check, but this was the great Ms. Marbles, so I did what she asked. She kept the check, and then lied about the amount we agreed on. She demanded more money to sign. My firm stopped payment on the check issued. She sued, saying the check was just a down payment and that she never received the remainder of the fee agreed upon . The amount, by the way, was outrageous.

“Also, it’s illegal to stop payment on a check. My firm had to hire lawyers for the upcoming lawsuit, which meant litigation fees as well as a large settlement. I broke protocol by giving her a check without a signed contract. The whole thing turned out to be a big mess, and I was held responsible. It ruined my career. Also, I’m being sued personally by my firm. I followed her here to try to change her mind about the lawsuit, but she wouldn’t even negotiate with me.”

“Her death lets you off the hook, Stoval. Am I right?”

“I don’t know the legalities involved.”

“You’re going to have to stay in town until this case is solved.”

“I haven’t got the money to remain here in the hotel. I have to get back to New York.”

“You’re a person of interest, so I’ll be putting you up temporarily at police headquarters for further questioning.”

Stoval was getting worked up, he seemed to have a temper he couldn’t control. “I’m going to contact the American Consulate!”

“Do as you please, but unless the American government steps in, you’re coming with me. You can call the Consulate from my office.”

An angry Stoval was escorted to a police van.

Paolo was the next to be interviewed. He came in wearing a black shirt with several buttons open exposing a thick gold medallion, black bell bottom pants, black headscarf, and white Armani shoes.

“Sorry for your loss. I see you’re taking your wife’s passing hard.”

“I wanted to throw myself into her grave. I vow to wear black for the rest of my life; except for the shoes, of course. Luce was my everything.”

“More than Concetta?”

“What are you getting at?”

“Concetta has been seen coming and going from your room since your wife’s death.”

“Leave her out of this!”

“Hard thing to do, since you two were romantically involved before and, some say, after your marriage. It’s also coincidental that she delivered the box that contained the poisoned liquors that killed your wife. May I ask what you did for a living, Paolo, before you met Ms. Marbles?”

“Consulting.”

“Everybody who’s unemployed says that. Some say you were a gigolo.”

“Just because women pay me to escort them, it doesn’t make me a gigolo.”

“Actually, according to the dictionary, it does. I checked with your late wife’s lawyer. You are the only heir to Ms. Marbles’ estate. She changed her will against her lawyer’s advice. You’re a rich man now. “

There was a pause.

“Did you kill her, Paolo?”

“You have nothing on me.”

“You’re a person of interest, and you’re coming downtown for further questioning.”

Paolo was escorted to the police van, and both he and Stoval were taken downtown.

Phelps asked Gotto: “Do you think either of those two did it?”

“I have no idea. Marbles was an international celebrity, and there are reporters all over the place. We have to look like we’re doing something.”

* * *

Days passed. Inspector Mario Gotto was sitting in his office trying to make some sense of this case. His superiors were breathing down his neck. Tourism was big business here. This was the biggest crime to hit the area in years, and they wanted it over.

The desk sergeant stuck his head into Gotto’s office. “Sir, there’s a gentleman here to see you regarding the Marbles case.”

“Send him in.”

A thin weather-beaten man was escorted in. Gotto offered him a seat.

“I feel I know you, but I can’t place the face.”

“Most people look my way but don’t see me. I sell lemons in front of the Puccini Dei Marini Hotel.”

“Ah yes, the lemon man. What brings you here?”

“I came to confess to the murder of Luce Marbles.”

Gotto looked puzzled. He wasn’t sure if he was serious or just crazy.

“Why would you want to kill Ms. Marbles?”

“Does the name Angela Mazza mean anything to you?”

Gotto had to think. After several minutes, he answered, “She was the young woman who committed suicide by jumping off a cliff several years ago.”

“She was my daughter. Angela was a passionate writer. She was especially proud of one of her novels and thought it good enough to be published. When she learned Luce Marbles was staying at the Puccini, she decided to go there to try and see her. She sat in the lobby for days, waiting for Marbles to pass. When she did, Angela approached her. My daughter told her what a fan she was and asked if Marbles would read a little of her novel to see if she had any talent. Marbles agreed and took a copy. They parted.

“Angela never heard from her again. One year later, Angela saw her novel published, almost word for word in a book that listed Luce Marbles as the author. Marbles made a fortune on the book and the subsequent movie. My daughter was heartbroken. She had poured her heart and soul into that book and was cheated.

“We are poor and it would have changed our lives. Angela was a sensitive girl, and she fell into a depression over the matter. It seemed to get worse and worse. Then one day she killed herself. I decided to move my stand in front of the hotel, knowing that one day Marbles would return.”

Gotto decided to test him. “How did you kill her?”

“I grew the belladonna plant in a garden in back of my home. Then I crushed the blackberries into a juice and poured it into the limoncello and Campari. I usually arrive early in front of the hotel. No one notices me, so I just walked in and put the package addressed to Luce Marbles on the bar. I had observed what she liked to drink. I also knew her husband didn’t drink.”

“What did you write on your note?”

“For my beautiful author.”

“That was a strange thing to write.”

“What it meant to me was, I’m poisoning you ‘for my beautiful author,’ my Angela.”

“Why are you turning yourself in? We would never have caught you.”

“I read you made arrests. I do not want innocent people to suffer for my crime. I’m a sad old man, whose life ended with the death of my only child.”

The lemon man was booked for murder and placed in a cell. He looked at the grey walls that boxed him in, and for the first time in his life, he missed the beautiful scenery that had always surrounded him. Now he could only appreciate it in his memories. However, the anger and hate that had burned in his gut like an overly acidic lemon for so many years was gone. He had avenged his daughter.

When the famous author Luce Marbles stayed at the Puccini Dei Marini, it could not be publicized. She was a guest and given her privacy. Now that she was dead, the hotel sought to benefit from her fame. They filled a section of their library with her books, and gave tours of the room where she fell to her death. Everything in the room was left as it was when it happened.

The tours ended with a lecture on her accomplishments, generosity and what a wonderful person she was in real life. The hotel selected Abramo to give the tour and lecture. As Phelps was checking out of the hotel, he paused long enough to enjoy the look on Abramo’s face, as he forced himself to praise the late author in front of her fans. He would probably be doing this for the rest of his working life.


Copyright © 2022 by Philip Pak

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