Author: Catherine Maiorisi
Category: LGBT
Go to read content：https://onlinereadfreenovel.com/catherine-maiorisi/page,13,537229-the_blood_runs_cold.html
“So what news do you have, Detective? I assume it’s important or you wouldn’t have interrupted us while we’re mourning the loss of our son.”
“It is important. I need to know what it was that you and Nardo argued about.”
“I’ve already told you, that is none of your business. It has nothing to do with his death.”
“With all due respect, sir, this is a murder investigation. Everything is my business. So you’ll make your life and mine easier if you tell me.”
He started toward the door. She thought he was going to leave them, but then he turned and walked back. Flushed and breathing heavy, he stared out the window, then shrugged. “Enough. Nardo had some crazy idea that I did something to him when he was a boy, but it was not true. I will not discuss it. Do you understand?”
“I do, sir. But unless we can find someone who can verify your story about when you left the dinner or what time you arrived at home, you are a prime suspect. Do you understand?”
The color drained from his face.
“How dare you accuse my husband of murdering our son.” The barely controlled rage in Carla’s voice was chilling. The three of them turned toward the door. Sansone stood behind her. “How dare you come into our home when we are mourning and make these filthy accusations. Get out. Now.” Carla’s voice was husky, deeper than normal and ice cold.
“Carla, please, they are only doing their job.”
“You are too nice, Leonardo. They are insulting you.”
She moved to the side and pointed at the door. “You are speaking to Ambassador Leonardo de Balzo who will soon be the Prime Minister of Italy. We will not tolerate such insults. Now go.”
The media had its usual Pavlovian response to their appearance on the steps, but they were still cordoned off on the other side of the street and Corelli ignored them. She smiled at Twilliger. “Take care, Officer.”
The gawky officer grinned and raised his fingers to his hat in salute. “You too, ma’am.”
She put on her sunglasses. “That was productive,” she said as they hit the sidewalk.
“What a piece of work. She’s like a pit bull,” said Parker. “Did you get the feeling we were supposed to salute and kiss the ambassador’s ass?”
“Now that you mention it,” Corelli said. “Too bad she came in. I think he was about to say something. It was a mistake to see him with her there; we need to get him alone.” She sighed. “Let’s go downtown and see if anybody has anything useful.”
“Aspetta, wait.”
Corelli spun around ready to punch whoever had grabbed her arm. “Chief Sansone.”
“You are too far out of line. You accuse Leonardo, but he would never kill his son. I don’t say it because of my love for him but because he is, uh, how do you say, too squeamish, too soft. And you have upset Carla. She adores Leonardo. They have worked very hard to get to this place and they have too much going on right now to be under this scrutiny.”
“Do you know what Nardo and his father argued about?”
“I told you what I know. Nardo believed that Leonardo did something to him, something he didn’t do. Really, it is no concern for you.”
“Oh, but it is my concern. Everything is my concern until I find out who murdered Nardo. And if it was his father, I will find out. So if Leonardo has nothing to hide, I suggest that you encourage him to cooperate.”
“You don’t know who you are dealing with. Be careful, Detective, you might get hurt.”
“Is that a threat, Chief Sansone? Maybe somebody will try to shoot me?”
His eyes narrowed. He smiled, but it wasn’t the big smile. It was tighter and lacked the warmth and charm of those that had come before. “I don’t know what you mean. I just want to remind you that the stakes are high. I’m sure you understand.”
“You think del Balzo tried to shoot you?” Parker said as Sansone hurried away.
“Just fishin’.”
Chapter Twenty
Friday – 10 a.m.
A fidgety Scott Sigler stared at the two-way mirror, as if waiting for a movie to start. They watched him for a few minutes. He looked ten years older.
“Why don’t you take him, Parker, I’m getting tired of doing all the work,” Corelli said, slanting her eyes to the right to catch Parker’s reaction.
Parker stared at Corelli for a few seconds. “Is this a trick?”
“Would I do that to you?” Corelli smiled. “Well, maybe, but not this time.”
They walked out of the viewing room and into the interview room. Sigler jumped up. “Do I need a lawyer?”
“You tell me. Do you need a lawyer? Have you committed a crime?”
Sigler shifted his gaze to Parker. “No. I don’t…I haven’t done anything wrong. Why am I here?” He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair.
“Sit down, man,” Parker said, sitting.
He followed orders and sat facing Parker but his attention was on Corelli, who stood leaning against the door.
“You left something out the last time we talked. We’d like to hear the full story now.”
“As I said, I had dinner with Nardo then went back to work. Surely you checked the sign-out sheets in the lobby?” He looked from one to the other of the detectives.
“Surely, we did check and they corroborate your lie. And when we checked some more we found that you left the building and took a taxi to Nardo’s apartment at about eleven o’clock Tuesday night.”
He blanched. “How did you find out?” He rubbed his eyes. “Shit. I didn’t think it was important because I didn’t actually have contact with Nardo. While I was paying the taxi driver, a man rang Nardo’s bell. He opened the door, they embraced and kissed, and walked in the house. I was stunned and rooted to the spot for a minute. Then I started walking uptown, fast. At Twenty-Third Street, I took the Lexington Avenue subway back to the office.”
“What was he wearing?”
“Nardo or the man?”
“Nardo.”
“He was bare-chested but I couldn’t see what he was wearing on the bottom.”
“What did the man who rang the bell look like?”
He closed his eyes. “Um, I only saw his back, but he was tall and dressed all in black. And, he was wearing a black hat.”
“How did you feel, seeing Nardo embrace another man?”
“At first I was jealous. But by the time I got on the subway, I realized I was being stupid and possessive and jumping to conclusions. Nardo and I hadn’t made any kind of a commitment to monogamy. And, after all, Nardo had invited me to go to Provincetown with him, not the mystery man. I decided I had a lot to be happy for and I would deal with the mystery man if he became an issue.”
“Did anybody see you?”
“I thought I saw the curtain move in the house across the street as I turned away, but I was upset, so it might have been the tears in my eyes that made it seem to move.”
“How did you get in and out of your office building without the guards seeing you?”
“Easy when you’re friendly with the cleaning people. They let me out the freight entrance. I don’t do it too often, but it comes in handy when I really need to get away. And you can check. I don’t bill for the time I’m not there.”
“We’ll leave that to your conscience.”
They dismissed him and went back to the team’s conference room.
“Dietz, get Forlini back to the neighbor who saw the tall dark mystery man go into Nardo’s apartment. Maybe he can confirm Sigler’s story. And maybe the other neighbor saw Ginocchioni leave. She didn’t say, but I’ll bet she watched to see what was going to happen.”
Corelli’s phone rang, startling the three of them. “Corelli.” She rolled her eyes. “Tell him we’re on our way.”
She stood up. “Come on, Parker. Chief Broderick wants to see us.”
As Corelli and Parker left the conference room, an officer handed her some phone message slips.
“Thought you would want to se
e these before you go.”
“Thanks.” She thumbed through. “What do you think, Parker? Our friend Sansone wants to apologize and suggests that he and I have dinner tonight to discuss progress on the case. Why don’t I call and ask him to meet me here later?”
“It would make your sister Patrizia happy if you had dinner with him. You know, a nice Italian guy with a good job.”
“Maybe I should interview him and then have dinner?”
“You can’t do that, Corelli. He’s a suspect.”
“Duh, thanks for reminding me.”
Parker’s face darkened. Ah, she’s pissed off. Corelli put her hands in front of her. “Just kidding. Even if he weren’t a suspect, I wouldn’t have anything to do with him. Wait a second while I tell Dietz to expect him.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Friday – 12 p.m.
Chief Harry Broderick waved them into the chairs facing his desk and wasted no time with pleasantries. “I just got off the phone with the mayor, who, as we know, is no fan of yours, Detective Corelli.”
Parker twitched.
Corelli didn’t blink at his formality and the censure in his voice. Their friendship had been solid until the undercover investigation ended. His failure to speak out to prevent the department from smearing her reputation by intimating she was dirty, his failure to publically support her in the face of the ostracism, and his failure to fight the mayor to get him to allow her back from the leave she was forced to take, had shaken her trust in him, had convinced her he had become just another bureaucrat protecting his ass. She met his gaze, sure he could read her anger. And her disdain.
“His honor received an outraged call from Carla del Balzo.” He glared at them. “According to Mrs. Del Balzo, you are harassing the ambassador, accusing him of killing his son. Is that true?”
Corelli didn’t like the tone of his voice, the fact that they were tried and convicted based on the complaint of a suspect. “Right now, he’s our prime suspect, but we don’t have anything concrete yet. And to be frank, we don’t have much else either.”
“I know you’re aware of the sensitivity here, with him about to become the prime minister, but she sounds vicious. Combining her venom with Mayor Matthews’s vendetta can only lead to trouble for you, Corelli, for all of us. Bring me irrefutable proof, not just feelings. And, brief me every day.”
“Yessir.”
They stood up and moved toward the door.
“Wait.”
They turned.
“I heard about the shooting. I’m glad you’re both all right.”
He held up a copy of The Daily Post, the one with her sitting on the back of the ambulance holding the two kittens. “I need the names of your kittens. I’m thinking about giving them a commendation for their life-saving effort last night.” He grinned.
“Very funny. They don’t have names. I’m probably going to give them away.”
“Really, Corelli, you owe them. You should take care of them.”
“I’ll add your name to the list in favor of keeping them.”
“You’re getting to be quite a media personality. Very nice interview on WNYN last night. You got something going with Darla North?”
Was he implying a sexual relationship? She studied his face. Maybe. “Did you see her piece on the media feeding frenzy?”
“Yes. Very dramatic. Maybe it’ll get you some sympathy from the del Balzo woman.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Not likely. Carla is more cold fish than bleeding heart. Anyway, I spoke to North after she filmed the piece and she requested an interview. Since Captain Winfry has been on my ass about making nice with the press, I said yes.”
“Winfry’s right. We’re getting pressure to put you out there.”
“Probably Matthews trying to use me to save his campaign.”
He looked surprised. “That’s a positive way to spin it. Hanging out with the media is improving your outlook.”
“You’ll be happy, then. I’ve promised her a couple more, maybe a chance to sit in on the team meeting.”
“Better spread yourself out or you’ll be accused of being in bed with Darla North.” He smirked.
“I can’t win, can I?”
He raised his hands and shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “Don’t blame me.”
She gave him a dirty look and reached for the doorknob.
“Wait, I almost forgot. Kate Burke, the Speaker of the City Council, called just before you walked in. She knew del Balzo and would like a report on the investigation. She’s tied up all day and this evening, but she’ll make herself available whenever you can fit her in tomorrow.”
She made a face.
“I’m sure it’s not necessary to remind you we need all the allies we can get, but I will. We need any and all allies. Fit her in. Capisce?”
“Yessir. I understand. Actually, we haven’t had much luck tracking down his friends. Maybe she’ll be able to help us.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Friday – 6 p.m.
Dietz jumped up when they walked into the conference room. “Everything okay with the chief?”
“Just Carla del Balzo rattling his cage.”
“Means you’re on to something.” He handed her a file. “Sansone’s alibi didn’t check out. He’s in interview room one.”
She glanced through the file. “Gotcha, Romeo. C’mon Parker, let’s have some fun.”
Andrea Sansone was pacing and ranting in Italian, when Corelli and Parker arrived. “This is outrageous,” he said, waving his arms to indicate the interview room. “You keep me waiting in this small place for two hours. They take my cell phone and tell me I cannot leave until I see you. Explain, please, Chiara. I am not amused.”
“Please sit, Mr. Sansone. And please speak English. We have a few questions for you.” She sat at the table but Parker remained standing in front of the door.
He took a deep breath. “Questions? I called this morning to apologize for my meanness and then you called and agreed to have dinner.” He had switched to English and he sounded hurt.
“No sir, I called and asked if you would meet me here. I didn’t mention dinner. It would be inappropriate for me to have dinner with a person of interest in an investigation. I was trying to save you the embarrassment of being escorted out of your office, perhaps in handcuffs. Now, please sit.” She pointed toward the chair on the opposite side of the table.
He placed his hands on the back of the chair. “What does this mean, person of interest?”
“It means you lied about the last time you saw Nardo. And it means you lied about your alibi. And it may mean you murdered Nardo. That’s what we’re here to determine. We can do this now or we can get more formal. It’s up to you.” She sat. Parker remained at the door.
His face reddened. He pulled the chair out and sat facing her with his hands folded in front of him.
“Please, I would like some water.”
Parker stepped out. When she returned with the water, she took the chair next to Corelli.
“Grazie,” he said, after drinking. Then, as if Parker had given him a magic potion, he was back, all smiles and oozing charm. “I’m sure there’s been some mistake. Perhaps I will call the ambassador?”
“That’s a good idea, Mr. Sansone, but first perhaps you could explain a couple of things.”
“Certo,” he said. He smiled, then looked at Parker. “This means certainly.”
Mr. Blazing Teeth, as Parker had tagged him, was back.
“Mr. Sansone—”
“Andrea, please.”
The oozing charm was back as well. Corelli thought she might vomit.
“Andrea, you said you spent the night with…” She glanced down at the papers in front of her. “Monique Von Huevendal. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“And you said you spent the night at her apartment?”
“Oh, no, it was my apartment.”
“I’m puzzled, either way. There is no Monique
Von Huevendal at the address you gave us, or anywhere else in New York City for that matter. And neither your evening nor your night doorman saw you come in.”
“The doorman was mistaken. The door was free when I arrived home. And this is the name and address she gave me. I can show you my address book.”
“We also checked the security tapes in your building and you were nowhere to be seen.”
He shrugged. “Maybe the camera didn’t work.”
“What restaurant did you eat at?”
He smiled ruefully. “I’m sorry, I can’t remember.”
“Was she a prostitute?”
He glared at her. “I do not need to pay for sex or female company.”
“What were you doing at Nardo’s apartment at ten p.m. Tuesday night?”
“I told you, I was not there. I was otherwise occupied.” He smirked.
“That’s interesting. We have a witness who saw you there.”
“No, I wasn’t there.”
“Lies, lies, lies, Andrea. You’re digging a hole for yourself. You say you were where we have proof you weren’t, and you say you weren’t where we have proof you were. Better to admit the truth.”
He frowned. “What do you mean, ‘digging a hole’?”
“Would you like an interpreter?”
“No. You explain, please.”
“It means that every lie makes it clearer that you were there and makes us wonder why you’re lying if you didn’t kill him.”
He paled but smiled his slimy smile. “I think I must have a lawyer.”
“Do you want a public defender?”
“Who is this?”
“A lawyer paid for by New York City.”
“No. I must call Leonardo. He will know what to do.”
They left Sansone to make his phone call and went out for a sandwich at the deli near the precinct. They were at the register paying when her phone rang. “Sansone’s lawyer is here. He would like to talk to you,” said the voice at the other end.
“Give us a few minutes,” she said.
The uniform standing outside the interview room stopped them. “You have a surprise waiting for you.”