Read Online Isle of the Dead by Alex Connor - Free Book Online Page B

know that. They
must
know that.’ He turned to Nino anxiously. ‘Do they suspect me?’
    â€˜No.’
    â€˜Do you?’
    â€˜Should I?’ Nino countered. ‘I mean, if what you’ve told me is true, you were both happy. In love, in a new apartment. Why would you kill her? And in such a brutal way?’
    â€˜I couldn’t!’ he snapped. ‘I couldn’t do that to anyone … Only a madman could have done that.’
    â€˜Just one more thing,’ Nino said, following a hunch. ‘Did you ever find out the name of the person who was killed in your old apartment?’
    â€˜Some woman,’ Tom said dismissively. ‘Is it important?’
    â€˜Maybe.’
    Sighing, he concentrated, then glanced back at Nino. ‘Claudia Moroni. I remembered it because of the painter Moroni.’
    The name meant nothing to Nino, but he made a mental note of it anyway. He had hoped to draw out more information from Tom Morgan, and was disappointed. He had longed for a slip-up, a giveaway word, but it seemed that Morgan had nothing to give away. Or nothing to hide.
    â€˜Why would you do it?’
    â€˜
What?
’
    â€˜Kill your wife.’
    â€˜
I didn’t!
’ he snapped. ‘I loved Seraphina – I love her even more now.’
    â€˜Now?’
    â€˜She was pregnant,’ he said sadly. ‘Seraphina was going to have my child.’

12
    It was two thirty the following afternoon when Gaspare Reni heard the knocking coming from below. The gallery was closed, but apparently the visitor was either unable to read the sign or unable to take no for an answer. Puzzled, he waited for the knocking to end, but it continued, persistent and unsettling. He had always insisted that customers or dealers make appointments in advance, so that he would know who to expect. After all, he was getting old and the gallery was crammed with expensive pieces. Who knew who might walk in off the street?
    Irritated, Gaspare moved to the window and looked down to the pavement below. From his vantage point, he could see the top of a man’s head illuminated in the winter lamplight and ducked back when the figure looked up. But it was too late, he had been spotted. And the knocking began again.
    Reluctantly, he moved down the stairs. Then, checking that the chain was on, Gaspare opened the front door.
    â€˜We’re closed!’
    â€˜Mr Reni,’ the figure said, trying to push against the door as Gaspare pushed back, ‘perhaps we could talk?’
    Anxious, the dealer put all his weight against the door and slammed it shut. Relocking it, he leaned against the wood, breathing heavily. But the man outside wasn’t going anywhere.
    â€˜That’s hardly polite,’ he said. ‘I only want to talk to you. About the painting.’
    â€˜Go away!’ Gaspare snapped, unsettled. ‘Or you can ring me for an appointment—’
    â€˜Where did you put it, Mr Reni?’ the voice continued. ‘In a bank? In safe storage? No, you’re old school, aren’t you? I think it’s still with you in your gallery …’
    Gaspare could feel his heart pounding as the man continued to talk.
    â€˜Hidden where? In the cellar? There are windows down there, Mr Reni, easy enough to break in. Or is the Titian in the attic?’ A soft laugh. ‘Simple to enter from the roof, wouldn’t you say? Anyone could do it. Could creep in and surprise you. You wouldn’t like that. To come across a thief. Why, they might attack you. Even kill you.’ He paused, taunting the old man. ‘You have such a big gallery, haven’t you? So many rooms, so many windows, so many ways to get in.’
    â€˜
Go away!
’
    â€˜Why risk yourself for a picture, Mr Reni? Even a Titian?’
    Stumbling away from the door, Gaspare hurried into the nearest room and grabbed the phone, dialling 999. He couldhear it ring out, then there was silence. The