Murder Most Unfortunate Read Online Free Page B

here.”
    Rick’s face snapped back but he saw immediately that DiMaio wore a benign smile.
    â€œYes, of course, Detective. When did it happen?”
    â€œThe way this works, Signor Montoya, is that we ask the questions.”
    â€œNaturally. How can I be of help?”
    â€œThank you for asking. Inspector Occasio will decide if he or I will question you. In the meantime, please have a seat. You can read your guidebook while you wait.” He walked to the inspector, who was still talking with Porcari, and leaned over to say something in his superior’s ear. Occasio looked back at Rick quickly, the frown returning to his face. He answered his detective with a wave of the hand and returned to his conversation with the banker.
    There was a seat next to Professor Gaddi and Rick took it. Gaddi’s face had always shown its years, but since their conversation at breakfast it seemed to have added a few shadows. He stared blankly at Rick as if he just now recognized him. “Can you believe this, Riccardo?”
    â€œA very nasty business, Professor.”
    â€œNasty, indeed. We had enough excitement during the seminar, most of it due to Fortuna, but we didn’t need this to cap things off. A murder. Who would have imagined it?”
    â€œMust have been a robbery gone wrong. Who would want to murder the man?”
    Gaddi’s face formed into a twisted smile. “Who?” He waved his hands at the others. “The line forms over there. I don’t think there’s anyone in our seminar, except for you, who did not feel the sting of Fortuna’s tongue, or the viciousness of his pen at some time or another. And the man took great pleasure in it all. To say that he will not be missed among most of the art history community would be an understatement.”
    The detective returned and Rick rose to his feet. “Inspector Occasio would like me to interview you first, but then he needs you to translate when he talks to the people who don’t speak Italian.” DiMaio smiled; apparently he found this humorous. “Let’s go into the dining room. There could be some food left over from breakfast, you never know.”
    The staff had cleared all the tables and was setting up for lunch. The two men took seats at a table at the far end of the room.
    â€œWhy don’t I begin with the classic question?” said the policeman as he pulled out his note pad.
    â€œThat would be ‘Where were you, Signor Montoya, between the hours of nine o’clock and—let me guess—four a.m.’”
    â€œ Bravo . I could not be more impressed.” He pulled a pen from his jacket and waited.
    â€œI left the dinner at about nine-thirty. I think I was one of the first to head back to the hotel. By that time everyone had gotten up from their seats and they were sipping grappa. I am not a big fan of the drink, so I thanked the bank president, our host, and slipped out. I like to check my mail in the evening to see what has come in from friends in America, because of the time zones.”
    â€œYou lived in America, Signor Montoya? That’s where you got your boots, I suppose.”
    â€œMy father is American, so I have both citizenships.”
    â€œI have a cousin who lives in America, perhaps you know him. He lives in someplace called Staten Island.” He looked at Rick’s face and laughed. “I am making the piccolo scherzo , of course.”
    â€œYou’d be surprised how many people have asked me that and been serious, Detective.”
    â€œNot all Italians are as sharp as we policemen are. Anyway, no one left the restaurant with you?”
    â€œNo, I walked back alone.”
    â€œWas Fortuna still there when you departed? Did you happen to see who he was with?”
    â€œHe was still there, of that I’m sure. Everyone was standing around in small groups, I can’t recall who was speaking with whom.”
    DiMaio nodded and drew tiny