Death Brings Gold. Nicola Rocca
are you still there?â Visconti prompted him.
âYes, Iâm here,â he answered, shaking off his lethargy. âItâs exactly what Iâd thought.â
âWell, then why did you ask?â joked the doctor.
âI wanted you to confirm it.â
âWell, I did.â
âGood. Thanks a lot, Umberto,â said Walker, letting his friend know that their phone conversation was over.
âDonât mention it, David. Itâs my job.â
âAh,â Walker drew Viscontiâs attention again, âIâll show you the necktie, to compare it with the impressions on Ghezziâs neck.â
âIâll be waiting.â
Walker slowly returned the receiver to its hook. It was the first time that Visconti had submitted an incomplete report. Poor Umberto, he must still be under stress from his motherâs death. He would give the document back to him and ask for the amendments. He didnât wish to cause him any trouble.
CHAPTER 13
Visconti and Carobbioâs joint effort brought the first result: the necktie with which Ghezzi had been killed matched the one found on his body.
Walker made a mental note to visit the tie manufacturer and got into his car, cursing the traffic in Milan.
He parked his AUDI A3 in the only available spot, in a âno parkingâ space. He remained inside the car until the end of his cigarette, smoking with his eyes closed, sunk into his seat, thinking about his next moves.
When he got outside, he remembered to leave a copy of his police ID on the windscreen. He had already accumulated a collection of fines.
MODADUOMOâs main office was in Piazza San Babila, a hundred metres from there.
While walking, he consulted his iPhone and suffered all the advertising used by the big brand on their website for their products.
Nothing special, he said to himself. He lit another cigarette, ignoring that little voice warning him that he had only just finished the previous one. He sucked in three long drags of nicotine and felt his lungs cursing against him. The discomfort sensed at his breastbone brought back to memory the ongoing lectures from his mother who used to nag him every time she saw him with a cigarette.
The store was enormous, luxurious even, but not the exclusive domain of the rich. Many of its products were more or less affordable, Walker knew, even though he had never bought anything there.
A good-looking black man flung the door open for him, and greeted him showing the contrast between the whiteness of his teeth and his skin colour.
Walker returned the smile and made towards the first shop-assistant he spotted. She was young, blonde, blue eyes. Definitely very pretty. Reading the tag on her chest, Walker saw her name was Marina Papetti.
âGood morning,â he said.
âGood morning, sir,â she answered, her voice friendly. âHow can I help you?â
âI need to speak to the Manager,â he simply replied.
The blonde frowned.
âIâm sorry, sir, Mister Del Chiaro is rather busy todayâ¦â
âTell him that Inspector Walker is here, from the Police,â David interrupted her, holding up his Police ID.
The girl widened her eyes.
âIâll call him immediately,â said Marina, before heading away.
Shortly afterwards Walker saw a tall man approaching. Good-looking, well groomed, expensive suit. A living advert for the store, the Inspector thought, with a bit of jealousy.
âInspector Walker?â the man asked.
âIn person,â David replied, offering his outstretched hand.
âMarzio Del Chiaro. Nice to meet you. May I see your ID?â
Walker showed it to him. âMurder Investigation - Milan.â
Del Chiaro was startled.
âPlease tell me Inspector, what can I do for you? Would you like a coffee, while we talk?â
David accepted his offer, convinced that the other had chosen the excuse of a coffee to bring him to a more private room, far from curious eyes and ears.
The managerâs office was very welcoming, a modern desk at the centre of the room. Along the walls were huge sets of shelves finished in white. The black marble floor enhanced the luminosity of the bright walls. Two ergonomic armchairs welcomed Walker and the manager.
Del Chiaro picked up the cordless and pushed a button.
âElena, can you bring two coffees to my office, please? Thank you.â Then he addressed Walker. âTell me everything, Inspector.â
âI advise you that everything we discuss here must stay between us..â
âYou can count on it.â
âGood. Letâs get to the pointâ¦â
Three light knocks at the door interrupted him.
âPlease come in, Elena,â the manager invited her.
A brunette, almost as pretty as her blonde colleague, made her entrance with a tray in her hands.
âHere you are,â she said, placing two steaming coffee cups on the desk.
When she was gone, Walker started again.
âIâm investigating a delicate murder case, Mr Del Chiaro.â
âShould I be worried, Inspector?â His voice showed a touch of anxiety.
âYou tell me,â Walker rebutted. âDo you have something to be worried about?â
Hesitation.
âOf course not,â the man acknowledged finally.
âI knew it,â Walker smiled. âIâm here because it appears the victim was killed with a necktie made by the company you work for.â
The Inspector slipped a photo of the necktie from his pocket.
Del Chiaro stared at it intensely. He didnât look pleased.
âYes, I recognise it, itâs one of ours.â Then he raised his eyes and met the Inspectorâs. âI remember reading a couple of days ago that a man had been murdered. But I donât recall having read that a MODADUOMO necktie was used to kill him.â
âWeâve decided to feed journalists only with the basic information, without entering into details. Theyâve already begun adding their own, making up false details to pull in more readers.
The man invited him to continue, as he started stirring his coffee.
Walker did the same, and then drank the coffee in one gulp.
âExcellent,â he said pointing at the cup. âI believe such a large company must have a software program that manages the flow of incoming and outgoing goods, please correct me if Iâm wrong.â
âIt does,â the manager confirmed.
âPerfect. Would you be so kind as to tell me how it works? How you manage articles, inventories, coloursâ¦â
The manager nodded.
âEach