"Dibdin, Michael - Aurelio Zen 02 - Vendetta UC - part 09" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dibdin Michael)

powers of sickness and death at bay by banishing their
agents, dirt and dust, from every corner of the house. This
had made it virtually certain that the dried spots of blood
found on the dining room floor and on the steps leading to
the cellar must have been deposited by the lightly-
wounded killer. In which case, thought Zen, he must have
destroyed the discs and tapes after the murders, despite
the horrendous risks involved in staying at the scene once
ghe alarm had been raised and the police were on their
way. It didn't make any sense, he told himself for the
fiftieth time. If the object was to destroy both Burolo and
his records, surely the killer would either have used a
silenced weapon or eliminated Bini and his wife as well,
thus giving himself ample time to erase Burolo's records
before making good his escape. And if the discs and tapes
had been erased after they were seized by the Carabinieri --
the long arm of Palazzo Sisti would no doubt have been
capable of this -- then why did the killer make his way
down to the cellar and ransack the shelves at all?
It made no sense, no sense at all, although Zen had a
tantalizing feeling that the solution was in fact right under
his nose, simple and obvious. But that was no concern of
his in any case. His reason for visiting the villa had
nothing to do with viewing the scene of the crime. Never-
theless, for the sake of appearances he asked Bini to show
him the cellar before they went outside. The caretaker duly
levered up a brass ring and lifted the hatch to reveal a set
of worn stone steps leading down.
'It's not locked?' Zen asked.
Bini clicked a switch on the wall and a neon light flick-
ered into life below.
'There are no locks here,' he said. 'If you keep your
jewels in a safe, you don't need to lock the jewel case.'
The cellar was large, stretching the entire width of th~-
original farm. Zen sniffed the air.
'Nice and fresh down here.'
The caretaker indicated a narrow fissure at floor level.
'The air comes in there. They used to cure cheeses and
hams here in the old days. Even in the summer it stays
cool.'
Zen nodded. This constant temperature was no doubt
why Oscar had used the place as a storage vault. But now
the twin neon bars illuminated an empty expanse of
whitewashed walls and bare stone floor. There was
nothing to show that this had once been the nerve-centre
of an operation which had apparently succeeded in
fulfilling the alchemist's dream of turning dross into gold.
Once they got above ground again, the caretaker led
Zen out on to the terrace.
'The swimming-pool,' he announced.