Home Before Dark by Charles Maclean Read Free Book Online Page B

way across Santa Maria
Novella’s triumphal concourse – she hadn’t bargained on a
local soccer game swelling the rush-hour crowds with overexcited
fans – and out onto the track for the Venice Express.
Jimmy, pouring sweat, tickets between his teeth, helped her
board the train and find her reserved window-seat with only
minutes to spare.
'Trust you to pick the observation car,’ he gasped.
She looked out the small grimy windows and pulled a face.
An old woman in widow’s black nodded politely from the
seat opposite. Sam smiled at her and sank down onto the
banquette with a sigh.
She felt giddy with relief. She glanced up at Jimmy who
was trying to find room for her suitcase on the rack, when
the train suddenly jolted forward.
'Forget about that. Go, or we’ll both end up in Venice.’ It
had crossed her mind to ask him to keep her company. 'I’ll
come to the door. I got something for you . . .’ She shooed
him away.
The moment his back was turned Sam unzipped her
suitcase. The silk robe lay on the top. She’d bought it for
Federico – that didn’t matter now. She wanted Jimmy to have
the robe, but there was no way she could give it him wrapped
only in tissue paper. She’d thrown away the elegant box it
came in to make more room in her case.
Sam hesitated, then emptied the contents of her L.L. Bean
book bag onto the table. She transferred her laptop to the
suitcase, covered it with clothes and zipped the lid.
Asking the old lady to keep an eye on her stuff, she ran
down the aisle with the distinctive white and black book
bag.
'Oh my God,’ Jimmy went, as she handed it over, 'just
what I’ve always wanted . . . what is it?’
Sam laughed and leaned down from the carriage steps to
kiss him on the mouth. 'I owe you, you, big time.’
She could see the guard walking up the track slamming
doors. There was nobody else on the platform. Jimmy took
a peek inside the canvas bag and whistled. 'This must have
cost a small fortune . . .’
She heard the clatter of heels. A woman ran past.
'If it’s the wrong size, you don’t like the colour, whatever
. . . you can always change it. . . you know the store on Via
Tornabuoni.’
'What about this?’ He held up the bag. 'I’ll mail it to
you.’
The door slammed shut. As the train began to shunt
forward, Jimmy walked along beside her carriage. She
caught the chirruping first bars to 'O Sole Mio’ and smiled
as she saw him reach for his cell phone and consult the
display— Sam felt another twinge of guilt at the thought that she might have exposed her friend to danger, but as
far as she could tell they weren’t followed. She was going
to miss him.
She mouthed through the window, 'Look after yourself.’
Then Jimmy stepped back, gave a little wave and slid from view.
    After dark the main gates of the Villa Nardini are closed and the family use a less conspicuous entrance in the ivy-covered
perimeter wall on Via Rucellai. I got there at seven. The
Nardinis were away, but I had their permission to go anywhere I liked in the house and grounds. Coming home from a party,
Sophie had let herself in this same door the night she was killed.
I’d run the sequence countless times in my head. Her murderer sees his chance and steps out swiftly from the shadows
I noticed a magnolia tree across the street that shaded the pavement. There were plenty of places he could have hidden.
But was that really how it happened? Wouldn’t she have
screamed, struggled, tried to run for it? Morelli believed she let the perpetrator’ into the grounds because she knew him. Via Rucellai is a quiet, well-lit residential street with a boutique
hotel on the corner and a retirement home for nuns overlooking
the villa’s garden.
No one saw or heard anything.
My hand had hardly touched the bell when the nail
studded oak door swung inwards. Rutillio, the old portiere, stood framed in the doorway; his long secretive face, caught
by the light in half profile, might have been a detail from
a Renaissance