Commander Rossi and his petite sidekick Detective Constantini—“please, just call me Carmela”—bounced off each other like an old married couple, finishing each other’s sentences, squabbling over minor details and slapping each other playfully about the shoulders from time to time, and as Roxy watched them in action she couldn’t help thinking of that old English puppet show Punch and Judy. Except, after they dropped their bombshell, it was Caroline who looked ready to pull on the boxing gloves.
After bolting as fast as they could to the police station, neither woman daring to think anything lest they be disappointed all over again, Giuseppe had met them at the front door and taken them through to the interview room to meet Rossi and Carmela. Roxy noticed that Caroline barely blinked twice at the hunky officer, a sure sign she was not herself today.
The interview room was the same one where Roxy had sat earlier. This time the old fan was whirring in the corner but she couldn’t feel any benefit and was sweating now beneath her light cotton shirt. She noticed the door had been shut and wished they’d open it a crack.
It was clear Giuseppe had already filled his superiors in on most of what Roxy had told him yet some of his information was incorrect and, while they spoke surprisingly good English, Roxy still spent the first fifteen minutes clarifying details and setting the record straight. When she had finished, she took a deep breath and said, “Look, I’m sorry to be impatient, but Officer Giuseppe said you had heard from Max and ... well ...?”
Both women looked at him, eyes as wide as saucers, and Rossi cleared his throat, knowing he was about to disappoint. “We are not a hundred percent sure it is Mr Farrell, you understand, which is why we have called you here.” He leaned across the table to a small recorder on one side and pulled it towards himself. “Can I play for you?”
“We would like you to identify the voice,” added Carmela. “It is very mumbled, you must listen, carefully, yes?”
Caroline glanced worriedly across to Roxy and she gave her a reassuring nod.
Rossi attempted to press play several times but the machine was not cooperating. He hissed something in Italian under his breath and kept stabbing at the Play button. Eventually, Carmela smacked him across the shoulder, pulled the recorder from his hands and got it working. After an agonising few seconds, a loud crackling sound could be heard, followed by an Italian voice saying, “Polizia, qual è la vostra emergenza?”
There was another crackling sound then a man’s voice appeared speaking softly. “I ... ah... I need to speak with the police, please.”
Caroline’s eyes widened. “That’s Max!”
Roxy nodded, holding a finger to her lips as the operator said, “This is the police. What is your emergency?”
There was another pause before Max’s voice returned, even softer than before. It was as though he were whispering. “I just need to speak to someone, is there someone there I can speak with?”
“What is this regarding, please?”
Another pause. When he started speaking again Max sounded almost embarrassed, certainly unsure of himself. “I don’t know, um, you see, I think ... I mean, I’m pretty sure there’s going to be a ... crime.”
“Crime? What kind of crime?”
“Um, well, I’m just worried, that’s all. I mean, I could be wrong. Oh, shit—”
The line suddenly went dead and all that remained was the recorder’s eerie whistling sound. Rossi turned it off and looked up at them. Both women were still staring at the machine, Caroline tearful, Roxy with a hand to her mouth.
“Can you tell me, please, Miss Farrell, is that the voice of your missing brother, Max Farrell?”
Caroline sniffed and then nodded.
“For verification purposes, Miss Farrell, I need you to indicate verbally please.”
At first Caroline didn’t seem to understand him and Roxy reached out and grasped her hand. “Say yes, Caro,” she said and Caroline blinked back a tear.
“Yes.”
“When did he leave this message?” Roxy asked, trying to control her own tears which were threatening to spill.
“It came through to our emergency call service at 8:08 p.m. last Thursday.”
Roxy began doing the maths, her brain clicking into gear as her heart plummeted. “That’s before he disappeared. Before Candy—”
“Hang on,” said Caroline, her voice trembling a little now. “Are you saying you got this message last Thursday and you ignored it?”
“No, no, we did not ignore it,” Rossi said and then Carmela explained.
“This station is closed weekdays outside of peak season, so any calls from Riomaggiore come directly through to our head office in La Spezia. If it is an emergency, a team is despatched.”
“And that didn’t seem like an emergency to you?” Caroline said, her voice now quivering with contained rage.
Rossi held his palms up. “You have to understand, please, Miss Farrell. Your brother said no more than that. He did not give his name or explain what this, er, ‘crime’ was. Then, as you can see, he hung up.”
“He might have been referring to a shoplifter for all we knew,” added Carmela.
Sensing a fresh wave of anger, Rossi quickly added, “In any case, we did send two officers out the next day, around midday, and everything seemed to be okay.”
“Okay? Two people were missing!” said Caroline.
“No, no, not then you see,” said Carmela. “Our men patrolled the main town for hours. They spoke to shop owners and locals but could not find any problems to report. Nobody tell us these people are missing. It was only later that evening that Mr Marlow approached the officers and reported his wife missing. The officers began a search that evening and we brought in the helicopters and coast guard for a full-scale search the following morning. We later learned that your brother, too, disappeared that Friday morning.”
“Before your officers got here,” Caroline said, barely able to conceal the contempt in her voice.
Rossi coughed to clear his throat. “We still have no evidence that a crime has been committed.”
“What?! Surely Max’s message ...?”
“Again,” interjected Carmela, “it is not specific enough. We need more evidence.”
“Which brings us to the camera,” Rossi said. He reached below the table and produced what looked like a clear evidence bag. Through the bag they could see an iPhone encased in hot pink plastic.
“That has to be Candy’s,” Roxy said and Rossi looked at her inquisitively so she added, “I know she has a thing for pink, that’s all.”
It was located with the body, he explained. “Which has now been formally identified as Candace Eloise Marlow.”
Roxy and Caroline shared a glance then, and Roxy thought how horrendous it was that someone else’s death could fill them with such relief.
“Anyway, lucky for us, she had it inside her waterproof jacket, so we got it working,” Carmela was saying as she snatched the bag from Rossi and began clicking the phone to life through the plastic. She continued clicking until she got to the page she wanted. She held it out for them to see and Caroline’s shoulders dropped.
“Oh, Maxy.” Her voice was brimming with deep despair. She showed it to Roxy who was also overwhelmed with a sense of melancholy.
It was a photo showing Max standing in front of a stunning alpine view with one arm slung around Candy’s shoulder, the other by his side, the same slightly worried look in his eyes. It was almost a mirror image of the one on his Facebook page and Roxy realised they must have given both their devices to a third party to take the photos.
“That is a picture of your brother, Max Farrell, yes?”
Again this was directed at Caroline, again she struggled to answer until Roxy prompted her. “Yes, that’s Max.”
“We thought so,” Carmela was saying. “There are six pictures with Mr Farrell.”
“They were all taken last Tuesday at the same place,” added Rossi. “But we do not know this place. Can you identify?”
Caroline slowly clicked through all six images and both women agreed it had to be Mt Pilatus. They spotted the familiar caves, the circular-shaped hotel, a bright red train sitting at an impossible angle in another.
“Did you find any pictures with Max here in Riomaggiore?” asked Roxy. “Or maybe on that walk between here and Manorola?”
Both detectives shook their heads.
It was the best news Roxy had heard all day and her heart lightened a little. “So you have no evidence that Max accompanied Candy on her walk last Friday, the day she disappeared?”
“No, but …” began Rossi.
“It does not mean he was not with her,” finished Carmela.
Yes it does, Roxy wanted to exclaim. The last time they went on a walk, up at Mt Pilatus, they took a stack of photos together. Why would this walk be any different? Instead she asked, “Did you find any pictures of anyone else with Candy?”
Carmela glanced at Rossi as if getting permission to answer and when he nodded she said, “Not on the day in question, no. But there were several shots from that day, taken around the time we believe she fell off the pathway.” She paused, glancing at Rossi again. “They are of the deceased. Alone.”
“But someone must have been with her, to take the shots,” said Roxy.
“Could’ve been selfies,” said Caroline.
“Selfies?” asked Rossi and Carmela hissed at him.
“You know selfies!” She slapped him across the shoulder, lighter this time. “All the youngsters they take the selfies all the time.” She held the phone up in front of her and turned her wrist around as though about to take a photo of herself. “She could have done this.”
“Can I see?” asked Caroline and Carmela handed the evidence bag over.
Caroline flicked through with her forefinger, passing across a range of images as she did so. At one stage she glanced up at Roxy, a surreptitious look in her eyes, before continuing through the shots until she found the ones Carmela was referring to on the hills around Riomaggiore. They sent a small chill through her body. Each one was slightly different but they all showed Candy standing on the edge of a cliff with a bright yellow cap on, squinting slightly into the sun. In one she was holding her arms wide as if presenting the view, in another she was pointing down towards the stunning blue sea, the same sea that would soon claim her life. Caroline noticed she wasn’t smiling as widely in these pictures as she was in the ones with Max at Mt Pilatus. If she was with someone, she wasn’t nearly as happy.
“I don’t think these are selfies,” Caroline said. “There’s too much distance between Candy and the lens, and see this one, with her arms out, she’s not holding the camera in that one at all. Of course, she could have set the camera up on a rock face somewhere, but it’s not so easy to do with an iPhone. I bet somebody else took them for her.”
“Which means somebody was definitely with Mrs Marlow on the track,” Rossi said.
“Or she could have asked a passing tourist to take them,” said Carmela, scrunching up her nose, “but six shots? I doubt that. No, no, I agree, someone was with Mrs Marlow on her walk and they were very careful not to be photographed.”
Roxy stared at her for a minute. “You think that person was Max, don’t you?”
“We do not know. We have no evidence at this stage. He did not send you any messages telling you where he was going? Telling you about Mrs Marlow?”
Both women shook their heads and Caroline said, “The last time Max spoke to my mother he was in a hurry and didn’t say much. Mum misheard where he was going but she says he never mentioned anybody else. We’re as surprised as everyone to learn that he started up an affair with Candy Marlow.”
“And nothing about Donald Marlow?”
“No. We never even heard the name Marlow until we got to Mt Pilatus. Why?”
The detectives shared a glance but did not answer the question.
Now Rossi asked, “Has your brother ever come to Riomaggiore before?”
“Not that I know of. I don’t think so.” Caroline glanced at Roxy who nodded agreement.
Rossi reached out for the phone and said, “Officer Giuseppe has told me that you have located Mr Farrell’s car. If you will hand over the keys, we will make an inspection.”
Roxy did so, explaining how the smart key worked. He looked confused and Carmela snatched it off him.
“He’s useless with technology. I will do the opening!”
Now it was Rossi’s turn to give his partner a light whack across the arm. “I am not so bad, you know!” He turned back to Roxy. “Okay, Ola’s room key, too, please. I think this one is easy to work, hey?”
“Just a boring old door key,” Roxy told him, handing it over. They had already relinquished the pink cap and Rossi had given it to Giuseppe to take into evidence. Roxy had explained their concerns that it had been planted, and asked about Sofia, yet neither detective knew whether she worked for Ola. Giuseppe had been ordered to look into it.
“And you have received no more word from your brother?” he asked of Caroline. She shook her head. “No more pictures on the Twitter?”
“Well, he only posted messages on Twitter. The pictures were on Facebook.”
Carmela hissed again but said nothing as Rossi pushed away from the desk and stood up. “That will do for now. You are staying in town in case we have more questions?”
“We’re staying in town until we find Max,” Roxy corrected him.
“Okay. Maybe we can help you with this. We will check out your friend’s hotel room and his car. Maybe you lucky and he just go away for a few days and he be back, all will be happy days, no?” He didn’t sound convincing and they weren’t buying it. “You can go now, ladies, but first, please see Officer Giuseppe. We need to get your fingerprints.”
“Ours?” they said unison.
“Not to worry,” said Carmela with a smile. “You have put your prints all over everything, we need to discount them from the evidence.”
Before they left, Roxy asked, “Do you have any idea what happened to Candy? Whether she fell accidentally or was pushed?”
The two detectives shared another look and then Rossi said, “That is the sixty-four-dollar question.”
“Sixty-four-thousand, you silly man!” interjected Carmela, giving him a final smack across the arm for good measure.