David Wolf 01 - Foreign Deceit Page 12

  She swept her hand at the door. “They don’t teach that skill in the American military?”

  “Huh. No I don’t remember learning that. Touché.” He stepped in.

  The apartment was dimly lit. A corridor hallway inside the entrance was lined with a body length mirror and framed painting that looked to be Australian aboriginal art.

  Two doors were closed on the right hand side and a brightly lit bigger room was at the end of the narrow hallway.

  “Hello?” Wolf called into the apartment.

  Lia flipped a light switch and the hall flooded with yellow light. She shut the door, suffocating any outside noise.

  He smelled her sweet breath as she turned toward him, and then the lavender scent of her hair. The apartment was completely silent save the gentle rustle of her clothing.

  Wolf was aware he’d passed beyond the act of looking to staring at Lia, so he sprung into action. “I’ll check this door.” He turned and opened the nearest door, revealing Rosenwald’s bedroom. A queen-sized bed was un-made with two shirts strewn across it. A dirty clothes wicker basket was filled to the brim giving the room a musty body-odor smell. The screen-less window was open a crack, and Wolf felt another tiny sting and slapped his forearm.

  A distant thunder rumbled outside, shaking the building deep. Light dimmed by the second. Outside, a midday thunderstorm was building somewhere within the hazy sky.

  “Pretty nice place!” Lia said from somewhere else in the apartment. He left the room and followed her voice down the hall into a large living room that had vaulted ceilings. There were two massive windows set in an exposed brick wall that looked out on the river, filling the room with subdued natural light. The opposite wall was painted Italian-flag green. From it hung a medium sized flat screen television. Australian landscape photography and paintings adorned the rest of the wall space. It was thoughtfully and tastefully designed with attention to detail. There was a leather couch, dark wood end tables and a kitchenette with a table where Lia was digging in a backpack.

  “Notice the coffee table over there.” She nodded her head toward it.

  Wolf looked and saw a small pile of Euro coins, a few pieces of paper, and a tiny white bag. It looked like a bag of cocaine. He picked it up and studied it closely, then opened it. It looked and smelled like it at least.

  “So, Matthew here is also using cocaine,” she said.

  “I don’t think my brother was using cocaine.”

  “Sorry.” She gave him a sideways glance. “What about what the coroner’s report?”

  “It said there was residue on his nose. There weren’t any blood tests done.”

  “True.”

  He closed and pocketed the tiny bag and they began a thorough search of the apartment. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary for a single male from Australia, living his life as a gamma-ray astronomer in a foreign country. Other than the bag of coke that is. Receipts were piled on the kitchen counter against the tile back splash, none giving any clues to anything but his diet, which consisted of a lot of vegetables from the local supermarket.

  “There’s no phone. That reminds me, can we look at phone records for my brother and this guy? There may be some clues there. We should have the cell phone company ping his phone as well to see where it’s at, if there’s any charge left in it. Did it go straight to voice mail when you called it earlier?”

  “Yes, it did.”

  “Okay, that says something. He’s not charging his phone. Maybe he knows someone could trace his phone if he charged it. Maybe he took out the battery. Maybe he’s running. I don’t see his car keys anywhere. What about his passport? I don’t see one, do you?”

  “No.” She looked around with her hands out.

  “Okay, so he has his passport also. Can we trace movement with his passport?”

  “Probably not. At least, it’s not easy. Schengen rules allow free travel between most European countries. Most countries don’t even have electronic passport control of any kind. There will be a guard, and he will look at the passport, and done.” She swiped her hands together as if wiping off crumbs. “We can check of course, but we shouldn’t expect anything. Credit cards and cell phone are a better bet.”

  “You have a person in the Carabinieri that does all this stuff?”

  “Yes.” She smiled. “There is a guy who does all this stuff. He is the technical genius of the office.”

  A close thunder rumbled for a long time outside, and a deluge of raindrops began hitting the roof and windows.

  “We’ll have him check on Dr. Rosenwald’s car as well,” she said. “He can get the registration.”

  “I wonder if he could hack into my brother’s computer at the same time.”

  “If it can be done, he will be able to do it.”

  I’d also like to take a thorough look at the police report, or whatever you call it here,” he said. “All after we go to The Albastru Pub.”

  “Is that all?” She looked at him facetiously.

  “No.”

  A white flash of lightning lit the interior of the apartment, followed by a deafening boom that rolled into the distance.

  “Whoa. We’d better get to the car.” They walked down the hall and out of the apartment. “So what else do you have planned for us, Mr. Wolf?”

  “Food.” Wolf said. “Food.”

  Chapter 22

  Lia cut a chunk off her Margherita pizza and stuffed it in her mouth. “So, what’s it like in Colorado?”

  “It’s a beautiful place. There aren’t nearly as many people as here, at least where I come from, in the mountains. Some days you’ll see more animals than other people. I love it.”

  They sat inside a crowded pizzeria along the river while it poured rain outside. They ordered pizza, water, and Cokes, a meal Wolf liked anywhere in the world, but he was looking forward to tasting the authentic thing. Wolf dug into the savory pizza and he wasn’t disappointed. Not only did it taste delicious, but also he felt a burst of energy and realized it was much-needed fuel for his jet-lagged mind and body.

  “Have you been there your whole life?”

  “Most of it. I was in the military for a number of years right out of high school, then I returned. Otherwise, yeah. Born and raised.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Really? Where did you serve?”

  “I was stationed in Washington.”

  “Where did you go?”

  He laughed at her intense interest. “Middle East. Pacific Rim, mostly Asia and Australia.”

  “Oh, wow. That must have been amazing.” She shook her head and sipped her Coke. “Did you see any action?”

  “Nah, not much,” he lied. “I saw some in the Middle East, but otherwise, it was more a nice tour of the world.”

  She stared at nothing for a beat, then shook her head. “What is your position on the police force there?”

  “I’m a … sergeant”

  “Is that a bad subject or something?”

  “Well, it’s an interesting time for my career at the moment. There’s a possibility I’ll be appointed to sheriff on Monday.”

  She paused. “Really? Monday? Wow, congratulations?”

  “Yeah, no congratulations yet.”

  They sat in silence as he swilled another small glass of water. “That’s if a few things go right, of course.”

  “What do you mean? Do you not have the job already?”

  “No, I don’t. I have to be appointed by our town council, which means I have to be unanimously chosen by all of the members.”

  “And …?”

  “Well, I hurt a guy pretty bad before I left, and his father happens to be on said town council.”

  “Uh oh.” She leaned forward on her elbows. “And you are a bit worried.”

  “Well, yeah. They could be persuaded to vote for another person as sheriff instead. Because of what I did.”

  “Oh, okay. So, is there another candidate for the job?”

  “Yes,” he said. “The guy I hurt prett
y bad before I left.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Ah, I get it,” she said. “He may try to convince the others to vote for his son, especially since you just beat the crap out of him. Also, of course there is the matter of your brother here, which you want to make sure is taken care of before you go home.”

  They both resumed eating.

  She paused. “So, you think that the town council member would have voted for you before you hurt his son? Wouldn’t he have pushed the town council to vote for his own son anyway? I’m confused.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, it’s confusing as all hell. But, no, he wouldn’t have I don’t think. He probably would have voted for me over his own son. In fact, that’s probably the reason his son and I got into it the other day.”

  She nodded her head as if all was crystal clear, and then she finished her last bite and wiped her mouth. “All right. So let’s figure this whole mess out soon so you can take your brother home and go win your job.”

  He liked this girl more and more.

  Chapter 23

  Lia parked the Alfa Romeo right in front of The Albastru Pub, which sat in a piazza in the heart of Lecco that looked otherwise restricted to vehicle traffic.

  The pub had a large dark wooden sign with hand carved lettering above the front door, with a blue, yellow, and red square flag hanging from a pole above it. A single deciduous tree grew thick from a small square of brick in front.

  “Romanian.” Lia pointed at the flag as they got out, answering Wolf’s forthcoming question.

  They entered the pub, and Wolf noted the nautical-looking clock on the wall that said 2:10 pm. It looked like the bottom rung customers were there at the moment—a few older men slumping over a yellow beer or a brownish clear liquor in their squat glasses. Punk rock music Wolf didn’t recognize buzzed softly from out of the large wall mounted speakers. Two muted televisions showed the same channel, a sports channel showing soccer highlights.

  No one was behind the dark wooded bar, nor was there any indicator bell on the door or anything to telegraph their entrance.

  Lia took off her hat and brushed the stray strands of her dark hair from her forehead. “Buon giorno!” She called toward the rear of the bar.

  A thin face with buggy cobalt eyes peeked around the corner at a surprisingly tall height. Wolf realized he had to look up to look into the man’s eyes.

  Almost imperceptibly, the man’s eyes widened, then a stringy arm appeared holding up a finger, “Buon giorno! Un momento per favore,” the second half of the sentence retreated away from them behind the wall. There was a fast clipped conversation just audible over the music somewhere in the back, a door closing, and then the man returned.

  The bartender was tall. What Wolf thought to be a man standing on a step stool and peeking around a corner was in fact a man that stood well above Wolf’s six-foot-three height. His head was shaved on the sides all the way to the skin, with a spiked hairdo on top that shined with copious amounts of gel, making the man look even taller than the already circus-height he was. His ears protruded from the side of his head like two open car doors. He had a large nose, and a tight small mouth with spittle built up on the corners. A gold necklace jostled around his neck, well displayed on his bared chest above his mostly unbuttoned white silk shirt.

  He hurried over and extended a huge hand across the bar to Wolf. “Ciao, sono Cezar.”

  Wolf shook his hand, eying a pattern of five dots in between the man’s right forefinger and thumb, like a five on a dice. He’d seen the tattoo countless times around the world. All on bad people. It seemed that each culture, or country, or region, had different meanings for the universal mark. Some men in the far east would get the tattoo in prison, some would get it to represent they’d killed another man. Wolf assumed Cezar’s mark represented something similar, and didn’t represent his prowess for dice games.

  “Do you speak English?” Wolf asked.

  “Yes, I speak English, why?” The faint sound of a car engine fired up toward the back of the building, revved, and gradually faded.

  “Because I don’t speak Italian. My name’s Wolf.”

  “Wolf! What is that, German?”

  “No, actually it’s not,” he said. “Do you mind answering a few questions for us?”

  “Of course I do not mind! I’m Cezar.” He slumped down on his elbows giving Wolf his undivided attention. “How can I help you?”

  Cezar blinked long and hard while turning his mouth downward, ending the move with a hard sniff. Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out a pack of Marlboro’s in a black box, a type Wolf didn’t recognize ever seeing. He pointed the box in Wolf’s direction. “Would you like one?”

  “No thanks,” he held up his brother’s driver’s license, which he had also pocketed from his brother’s belongings at the morgue. “Have you ever seen this man before?”

  Lia cleared her throat.

  Cezar looked at the license with an unreadable face. “Yes! I know this guy. He and his friend come in sometimes.”

  Cezar pulled out his cell phone, apparently all his undivided attention used up on the one question.

  “You own this place?” Wolf asked.

  “Yeah, it’s mine, all mine.” He raised his arms out showing off his pterodactyl wingspan.

  Lia stepped forward and put her elbow on the bar. “Did you happen to see him this weekend? On Friday night?”

  Cezar paused for a few seconds swiping his finger on his phone.

  “Cezar?” Lia reached across and put her hand over his phone screen.

  Cezar inhaled a sharp breath and glared at Lia. He blinked hard and sniffed again, eyes transformed to a cool gaze as he opened them again. “I don’t think so, I normally remember everyone who comes in, and I don’t remember seeing him that night.”

  Wolf pulled out the receipt and laid it on the bar counter.

  Cezar glanced at it, then back to his phone. “He might have been in here, I don’t know. It was pretty busy that night.”

  “This is my brother’s receipt from that night —”

  “Yeah, I get it. Look, I didn’t see him that night, okay? Sorry to disappoint you.” He stared with a sad look on his face, head tilted to the side. A shrug was added for good measure.

  “Yeah. Okay.” Wolf stared icily. “Hey, you have a bathroom in that back room I can use?” He looked over Cezar’s shoulder to the back hallway.

  His eyelids drooped lazily as he pointed to the far wall. “The toilet is over there.”

  Wolf stood still, glaring at Cezar.

  Cezar held up his arms in a defensive gesture, a vaudeville look of fear twisting his face, then laughed through his tiny spit-ringed smile.

  “He knows something.” Wolf said as they got into the car.

  “That guy is creepy.”

  “Yeah, that too.”

  Lia’s phone trilled. She picked it up and talked for a minute.

  “Valerio is going to meet us at the station with the police report. Let’s go pick up your brother’s computer and head down there.”

  Chapter 24

  Wolf followed Lia into the Caribinieri station. She darted up the stairs to the left without a glance to the chaos below, which Wolf saw had escalated to biblical status.

  Upstairs was light and smelled refreshing after the mid day rains. The lake in the distance was white capped once again, and more aquatic boarders rode the winds back and forth across the vast expanse. He shook his head looking back at the stairway, like it was a wormhole into another universe.

  The room bustled with activity—officers on phones, paperwork being shuffled from desk to desk. A few unanchored sheets fluttered to the floor on the breeze coming in the windows. Colonnello Marino’s room to the right was closed, and once again his booming voice rumbled from within. Detective Rossi stood up from behind a desk in the distance and waved them over.

  “How are things coming along, David?” Rossi folded his arms.

  “There have been some developments for sure
.” He looked to Lia, who sat comfortably on the edge of Rossi’s desk. “We found that the belt around my brother’s neck was not his own belt.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Wolf explained the length of the belt and how it couldn’t have been stretched, and therefore couldn’t have been his brother’s belt.

  “That is interesting indeed. About your brother,” Rossi said, “I am working on getting all this paperwork done to release him and his belongings as fast as possible. And did you find this friend he was out with the night before?”

  “No, we just went to his place of work and his apartment, and no luck at either place. It looks like he’s been missing for the same amount of time as my brother. Or, at least he hasn’t shown up for work all week.”

  “Interesting again.” Rossi raised an eyebrow. He waved them to the chairs in front of his desk and sat back down. Wolf sat gratefully and stole another glance out to the shimmering water behind Rossi. .

  Rossi handed a manila folder to Wolf. “Here is a copy of the police report. If you would please not let Marino know that I gave you that, it would be much appreciated.”

  “All right.” Wolf took the folder and put it on his lap. He looked around the room, noticing the piles of paper on each desk. It seemed mountainous compared to what he was used to. Every single person at a desk was dealing with paperwork, or holding a piece of paperwork while on the phone, or handing a stack of paperwork to someone else.

  Rossi seemed to sense his curiosity. “What?”

  “Oh, I was just noting the vast amounts of paperwork on everyone’s desk. I thought we had it bad in Colorado.”

  Rossi and Lia laughed. “Really? This is a lot of paperwork?”

  Wolf nodded. “Yes. This is a lot of paperwork.”

  They laughed like school children at the observation, Rossi slapping his hand on the desk. “Paperwork is in the DNA of all Italians. We cannot get out of our mother’s wombs unless we have the proper paperwork.”

  Rossi leaned forward and frowned, as if remembering the sober reality of Wolf’s visit, “David, all that paperwork is the reason it can take a lot of time. But I’ve been keeping on top of your brother’s release papers. They are sitting on Marino’s desk now for final approval. In the meantime, I see you have your brother’s computer?”